Read The Bear's Virgin Darling (Honeypot Darlings Book 1) Online
Authors: Sophie Stern
Wyatt
I’m an asshole, but I don’t need spoiled princesses on my ranch. I need a team of employees are prepared to work their asses off to get the job done.
Unfortunately for me, Hope Demers from Missouri just isn’t going to cut it. What the hell was Carter thinking, letting her come out for an interview? She was completely right: it was a long drive and there was no reason for her to make it. I feel bad that she wasted all that time and gas money, but I have a ranch to run.
This is not a summer camp for city chicks who don’t even know how to weed a garden. Yeah, her bookkeeping skills might come in handy, but surely that stuff isn’t that tough to learn. Carter’s been managing just fine on his own.
As much as I don’t want to hire her, though, the sound of her sniffles reaches my ears as she walks down the hall and out the door. I follow, my feet moving of their own accord and watch from the door.
She’s trying to keep it together. I can tell. Her head is held high and her back is to me until she gets to her car, but as soon as she’s inside, she completely loses it and collapses in her seat, her head banging against the steering wheel.
Fuck.
I don’t know why she’s having such an effect on me that I’m suddenly Mr. Sensitive. Her tears shouldn’t bother me. I’ve made plenty of women cry and it’s never pained me the way this little human’s tears are hurting.
And that’s the other thing – she’s obviously, obviously human.
And judging from the way her arousal scented the air during the interview, she hasn’t been laid in awhile.
I shouldn’t have said what I did about blowjobs, but she was just so damn horny. What was I supposed to do? How else should I have handled that?
And the cop who told her to wear a low-cut shirt to the interview, well, what the hell was that all about? I guarantee I know who it was, too: Jason Edwards. He and I have never been close friends, but after his sister and I broke up, it was all over between the two of us. Edwards has made it his mission to pester and annoy me every chance he gets. Lucky for him, he’s got the law on his side.
Lucky for me, my brothers are meticulous with their recordkeeping.
She drives away from the ranch, but I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something. It’s just a job. Why would she care so much about
this
job? She’s obviously completely unqualified for what we need and more importantly, she doesn’t know we’re shifters.
We have plenty of human employees on the ranch, but they’ve all grown up in Honeypot and they all know enough to keep their mouth shut about shifter issues.
This one, though?
I don’t think she’s ever been out of Missouri.
Part of me doubts she has any idea what a shifter is. She might not even know we exist. No, shifters aren’t a secret anymore, but some places still swear up and down that shifters are just a legend, a myth.
Some places aren’t ready for the truth.
Would little Hope be able to handle it?
Reluctantly, I stop watching her car as it disappears down the lengthy driveway, and I head back to the office to look over her resume more closely.
Something just doesn’t make sense. From everything I’m looking at, it seems like she’s a reliable employee, like she was good at her job, and like she was moving up in the company. She was the manager of the store she worked at and her two-page list of responsibilities baffles me.
She did a lot more than just “manage the store.”
She arranged signings, repaired the roof, handled all plumbing issues, and even did gardening and landscaping. Why didn’t she mention
those
things?
Oh yeah: my fussy attitude.
Sometimes I forget how intimidating I can be when it comes to other people. Humans and shifters alike are often scared when they see my big size and if I’m not careful, my words come out harsher than I intend for them to.
Is that what happened with this little human?
If I hadn’t been so irritated about the damn cow and annoyed with Carter for bailing on me, maybe I would have been more patient.
I hate the fact that I completely messed this up and more importantly, I hate the fact that I made her cry. It wasn’t just her arousal that threw me off. It was just…her. She was sweet and cute and all human. She had long blonde hair that was starting to frizz, and I kept imagining what she’d look like with it pulled back in braids.
When I smelled her?
All I was thinking about how she’d look with
me
pulling her hair.
And that was when I lost it.
She kept saying “customer service” and instead of listening to her literal words, I imagined her under some other douchebag and I just went crazy.
I’m an idiot.
I can make this right. I have to. She mentioned she was staying in town for one more night. Maybe I can find out where. Maybe I can salvage this.
I have to get to her before she leaves, but first things first. I need to phone Jed and Ralph to let them know the position has been filled and to cancel their interviews.
To my surprise, neither one of them seems to know what I’m talking about and insist they didn’t apply for a job at the ranch.
That’s when I realize that Carter is a genius.
And I’m a moron.
Hope
Call me a coward, but I don’t want to go back to Mrs. Marsh’s just yet. I was so excited about the interview before I left and I’m not ready to answer her questions. It’s not that I think she’s nosy. I totally don’t get that vibe from her. It’s just that she’s motherly.
She’s kind.
I think if I had known my mother as an adult, she would seem like Mrs. Marsh. She would seem warm and kind and caring. I’ll never know, though. My mom died when I was 16 after a long battle with cancer and by that point, my dad was long gone. I have no idea where he is, who is he, or what his life is like now.
I also don’t care.
At all.
He left long before my mom’s cancer and he never even tried to contact us to check on me growing up. He can kiss my ass for all I care.
Why am I thinking about him now?
Oh yeah, because for a little while, at Mrs. Marsh’s, I started to feel safe and comfortable. There’s something about Honeypot that just feels like
home
. You know, the way
home
is supposed to feel.
The ranch is just south of town, so I decide to head back to the main road and see what’s open. Surely there are some stores I can peruse, some places I can wander around where I don’t have to worry about anyone bothering me or asking too many questions.
After a few minutes of driving, I locate a little trinket shop that looks promising, so I park and head inside. The door jingles when I enter, and the clerk looks over at me with a smile.
“Selena?” I ask. “You work here, too?”
The woman laughs and shakes her head. There’s a man leaning against the counter, and he chuckles, as well.
“I’m Savannah,” she says easily. “Selena is my twin sister.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea she was part of a set.” I wink. “Obviously, I’m new to town.”
The girl laughs, high and clear. I haven’t known many twins, but it’s eerie how similar she sounds to her sister.
“Just move here?” She asks, and I shake my head. I like this girl already. She seems just as friendly and kind as Selena, and just as easy to talk to.
“I was hoping to. I had a job interview today, but it went poorly.” The man turns his head to look at me and even though he looks familiar, I can’t seem to figure out where I might have seen him. Maybe he was at the diner last night.
“What was the job?” Savannah leans forward and props her head on her hands, just the way Selena had the night before. Creepy. Seriously, if she’s playing a prank on me, I’m going to kill her, but this girl’s hair is just a little bit different, now that I think about it. Selena’s was more of an ordinary brown. Savannah’s has subtle red highlights in it. They’re very, very subtle, but I can see them if I look closely.
“It was at a ranch. The Blair Ranch, do you know it?” I’m sure she does. Everyone in this town seems to know everything about everyone.
“Yeah, I know it,” she says casually. “I heard they were looking for some extra help.”
“During the phone interview, they told me they wanted to expand the property.”
“Oh, really?” Savannah says pointedly at the man, and I nod.
“Yeah, I think they want to make it more touristy. I’m not sure. It seemed like a good fit, so I drove all the way out here. Sucks for me, but I can’t deny that Honeypot is a great town.” I look around the shop wistfully. It’s so fucking quaint that I want to scream. I love everything about it.
As much as I try to control my thinking, I just can’t. I picture shopping in this store for postcards and notebooks and colored glittery pens. During hot summer days, I could stop in and get a drink, soak up the AC, and talk with Savannah about the latest gossip.
I could, if I had gotten the job.
And I had definitely, absolutely, 100 percent not gotten the job.
“What went wrong?” The man says, speaking for the first time. “If I may be so bold,” he adds when I give him a questioning look.
“Um, the guy was just a complete asshole,” I say, and Savannah bursts out laughing. “Sorry if you’re friends of his, I add quickly.”
“It’s fine,” Savannah says, but she is completely cracking up. The man seems to have gone cold, though. Fuck. I hope they aren’t friends. Surely they are and now I’ve just gone and shoved my foot in my mouth.
Again.
“What did he do?” He grits out.
Suddenly, I feel nervous once again. He reminds me of the man from the farm in that cold, calculating stare of his, and I realize that I never, ever want to cross these people.
Then I remember that I don’t know these people and I certainly don’t owe them anything. Besides, after today I’ll be gone for good and I’ll never see them again. I might as well be honest.
“It wasn’t the original guy,” I say. “I was supposed to meet with Carter, who seems really nice on the phone, but something happened and his brother interviewed me.”
“Which one?” Savannah asks.
“Wyatt.”
“Ooh, he’s feisty.” Savannah winks and pretends to stare at her phone for a second, but I can tell she’s trying to stop laughing.
“Well, he’s also a complete dick.”
That earns a little smirk from the guy standing there, and I keep going. What do I have to lose? This might be my last chance to make a big impression in Honeypot. Why not go all out?
“He thinks I’m a hooker! What the hell, right? I don’t even look like a hooker. I’m way too fat.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I’ve made a mistake. I’ve gone too far.
“Oh, shit,” Savannah mumbles, shaking her head at me, but it’s too late. The man stands up to his full height and looks down at me with a glare.
Somehow, I manage not to piss myself.
Barely.
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he says sternly. “You are gorgeous and curvy and everything a woman damn well should be. I don’t like hearing any woman say she’s fat, but certainly not a sweet little human like you.”
“Um, okay?” Did he just call me “human”? And what’s with the caveman routine? I don’t even know this guy. Still, my panties go a little moist as he stares down at me and all I can do is swallow. Oh, I’m going to be
missing out
on all the hot action in Honeypot when I go back to Missouri. Surely these people are all fucking each other all the time. They’re all too beautiful not to be.
“Look, honey,” Savannah says, taking over the conversation. “Wyatt is a bit headstrong and mouthy, but he’s a big ol’ teddy bear once you get to know him.” The man’s eyes shoot daggers at Savannah, but she sticks out her tongue.
“I’m sure he’s great,” I mumble. What else can I say? “Sorry, but he’s a huge asshole and you’re wrong about him”? Or maybe I could try, “He made me cry.” Something tells me that the big guy would freak out even more if I admit that I cried.
Then I remember that I’m in Savannah’s store and I don’t know her at all. I’m being completely rude just standing here badmouthing people she knows. My mama taught me better than this.
“Um, can I buy a postcard or something?”
“Sure, hon, they’re right over there.” She points to the back wall and I move quickly and quietly through the racks of snow globes and pictures and figurines. I find the wall of postcards and start to look at my options.
From the front of the store, I can hear Savannah and the guy whispering quietly. He sounds annoyed. She sounds frustrated. Then the door jingles and the shop goes quiet. Quickly, I make my selection. I choose a colorful postcard that has a historical picture of the town with
Honeypot, Colorado
across the front. It looks like the pictures I saw in the diner. Satisfied with my selection, I bring it to the front and pull out my wallet. To my surprise, the woman shakes her head.
“On the house, doll,” she says. “Welcome to Honeypot.”