by Eve Langlais
“Just drive,” she snapped. But she couldn’t help a warm glow at his words.
Jerk.
Stay strong. Don’t give in to the charm.
And don’t breathe, because every inhalation drugged her with his scent, muddled her thoughts.
What is happening to me?
Chapter 11
Bryce could feel her simmering beside him. He couldn’t truly blame her. He’d lost control, let that dickwad bait him into acting. “Well, that went better than expected,” Bryce declared when she hadn’t said a word for a few miles.
She turned an incredulous gaze on him. “How do you figure that? You and Rory got in a fight.”
“Yeah, but that was bound to happen at one point. The more important thing is grandfather liked you.”
“Do you think?” She sounded uncertain. “I felt like such an imposter the whole time.”
“Why?” he asked as he pulled to a stop in front of her place.
“That’s a dumb question, or is your silver spoon so big you can’t see it?”
He laughed. “I think you just accused me of being a snob.” Which entertained him. Most women fawned over him endlessly, but Melanie had a down-to-earth attitude that wasn’t meant to stroke his ego, which made the fact that every time he touched her and got near, and her pulse began racing quicker, it was because she truly was affected by him. Not his wealth. Not his stature.
It made a man swell—and not just with pride.
“It’s not your fault,” she teased, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “You were born that way.” She hopped out of the car, not waiting for him to come around.
He could have driven away. After all she’d played her part for the night, yet he found himself reluctant for it to end. He caught up to her just outside the door to the building.
She whirled, her eyes bright, her lips parted. “What are you doing?”
“A gentleman, even a snob, always sees his date to the door.”
“Even fake dates?”
“Most especially a fake one. After all, someone could be watching.”
“Do you seriously think someone is spying on you?”
He wouldn’t put it past his grandfather. “Most definitely”—he leaned closer to her—“which means we really should make this look real.” Before she could protest, he pressed his mouth to hers.
A jolt of electricity went through him, not the real kind that came from sticking his tongue in a socket for fun, but the kind that slammed him with awareness. That woke his body to the fact that he desired this woman like he’d never desired anyone before.
She didn’t shove him away, and so he deepened the embrace, coaxing her lips apart with his own, nibbling on the soft flesh, feeling the hot pants of her breath mingling with his own. His hands spanned her slim waist, and he drew her near. Near enough for her to feel the evidence of his arousal.
She kissed him back, shyly at first, but when he groaned, she grew bolder, letting her tongue slide along his, nibbling his mouth, craning on tiptoe just to reach him.
He curled his arm around her and lifted her off her feet, deepening the embrace, truly tasting her.
Needing her.
Who cared if they were predators on opposite sides? (And yes, moose were predators, deadly forest kings who ruled with sharp tines!)
Who cared if this relationship wasn’t supposed to be real? It felt real and good and right and…
The shrill ring of his phone shattered the spell.
She shoved away from him and said, her voice high and breathy, “Good night, Bryce.” Then she left him. Left him aching and hard.
Which meant he was annoyed when he answered his phone and barked, “This better be important.”
“The factory is on fire.”
Chapter 12
Sleep proved almost impossible. The couch purposely kept her awake. The lumps extra uncomfortable, the buttons on the cushions digging. Every single noise had her twitching, and Melanie couldn’t even blame it on her mother. Martha had given her mother a sleeping pill, which would last the night, and gone home when Melanie insisted.
It was just Melanie and her thoughts.
Her tumultuous thoughts.
Only one person to blame for her restlessness: Bryce.
He kissed me.
What a kiss!
Reading about passion exploding and knees buckling and insides melting like gooey chocolate was one thing. To actually experience it? Damn. Had his phone not rung, who knew how far things might have gotten?
Not very far, seeing as how I don’t even have a place to go with him. Somehow sneaking him in for a tryst on the couch with her mother in the other room just didn’t sound romantic.
Probably for the best. He and I shouldn’t get involved. She shouldn’t forget this was a sham—no matter how hot the kiss. He was only using her to fool his grandfather while she used him to try and better her life.
It was the perfect arrangement, which meant she shouldn’t muck it up with kisses and misplaced feelings. Keep it professional. Distant.
Of course, that was hard to remember when he showed up the next morning at her door, right behind the new nurse, as she bustled in.
Poor Bryce looked exhausted and dirty, his previously clean clothes covered in soot, smelling strongly of smoke.
“What happened?” she asked, slipping out of the apartment to speak with him in the hall. She didn’t want him to see just how poorly she lived.
“Fire at the maple syrup plant.”
“Oh no. Was anyone hurt?”
“No, and thankfully there wasn’t much damage from the fire itself, but the smoke ruined all the pending batches of syrup, not to mention fucked up our production times. It will be weeks before we’re cleared by the health inspectors to start producing again.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “We don’t know yet. Best guess is a careless smoker. But we won’t know for sure until we get the fire marshal’s report.”
“I’m sorry. That’s awful news.” Which made her wonder why he showed up here instead of going home. “I’ll understand if you want to call off our arrangement so you can handle this.”
“What?” He appeared startled. “Not at all. I came here to ask if you’re available for lunch today.”
“Given the news of the factory, is your grandfather well enough for that?”
“Probably not, so good thing he won’t be there. I was talking about a lunch with just the two of us.”
The words filtered slowly. She blinked at him. “Us, as in alone?”
“Yes, alone. You do realize we also have to see each other outside of my grandfather’s presence to make this work?”
“Of course.” There he went with his paranoid conviction that people were watching. “I can do lunch. What should I wear?” Because the dilemma remained, she owned nothing.
“Something comfortable. I was thinking we’d have a picnic.”
Only as she closed the door after planning a time, did she think of it. A picnic would have no audience. How exactly would this advance his cause with his grandfather? Shouldn’t there be a witness or spying eyes to their fake budding romance?
Or perhaps he planned to immortalize it by taking images for social media. An intimate picnic would look great in that case.
Whatever the reason, she couldn’t stem her excitement, and her mother noticed when she went in to say good morning after the nurse finished bathing and feeding her.
“You look awfully pleased with yourself.” Maizie’s gaze narrowed.
“It’s a beautiful day.”
“If you’re not stuck in bed, dying, with a daughter so lazy she uses your money to hire help.”
“It’s not your money paying for it.”
“Then whose?”
Despite knowing the probable reaction, she said it anyhow. “My boyfriend.”
“Whore!” The word emerged quick and harsh.
“Am not.”
“Then why would he agree
to pay for it? You must have given him sexual favors.”
“We’ve only kissed.”
“But he’ll be expecting more. Selling your body so that you can avoid being a proper daughter,” Maizie sneered. “You’re a slut, just like your father.”
“I’d rather be like him. At least he was smart enough to leave,” Melanie snapped.
“Is that what you think? That he left?” Maizie’s lips twisted, and her eyes sparked with malice. “I was the one who took off on him.”
“What?” Melanie froze as her mother’s words filtered.
“You heard me. I left him. The bloody bastard thought he could just toss me aside for that other woman. As if I meant nothing. I showed him.”
It turned her blood cold to hear, but she had to know. “Did you ever tell him where we went? Where I was?”
“Never! I took off with you and never looked back. The bastard never got to hold his precious little girl.” Smugness dripped from the words.
My dad never left me.
The horrifying truth slapped Melanie, and she couldn’t stand to look at Maizie’s face any longer. Her whole world had just been dumped on its ass.
The knock on the door saved her, and she fled the room with its ugly revelation, flinging open the door and brushing past Bryce with a terse, “Let’s go.”
She didn’t say much during the drive, and after his attempted, “What’s wrong?” and her snapped, “None of your business. It’s personal,” he stopped trying. He just drove them in silence and parked by the woods.
Woods that she knew. The same forest where she’d recently gone for a run and encountered that giant moose and then those scary wolves.
In her mind, hackles rose, and she dug her nails into her palm lest the yowl building within release.
“Are you sure it’s safe to be here?” She couldn’t exactly tell him what had happened so she had to settle for, “I hear there’s been wolves sighted.”
Being a man, he didn’t appear bothered at all about big hairy creatures that could tear his arm off. “Don’t worry about them. They won’t bother you while you’re with me. Come on.”
Still, she bit her lower lip and worried. What was he implying? Was he armed? Had someone culled the pack and eliminated the threat? If yes, then it made any future treks to this forest to stretch her furry paws a bad idea. If there were hunters and poachers around, they’d probably love to bag a lynx.
Perhaps they were watching right now, eyes pressed to a scope, sighting their next victim.
Slap. Her cat gave her a mental whack. You’re not going into the woods as a cat. She was here to have a picnic like a normal person. A hunter wouldn’t shoot a woman.
From the trunk, Bryce pulled out a hamper, a real wicker one with a handle, and a folded blanket. She tucked her hands in her jean pockets as she watched, her inner kitty twitching, not out of fear but eagerness.
It would be nice to go for a run in daylight.
She’d never tried that before, too scared someone would see her. Besides, how would she explain that to Bryce? I’m different than you.
He wouldn’t believe her. Then she’d show him. Then he’d run off screaming and get a gun.
And then where would she be? Possibly stuffed and mounted as a trophy.
Best to keep her secret and shove her longing deep down inside. She placated her inner feline with, If there are no hunters, then maybe later we’ll come back and see if we can catch a fish.
Although this time, if they did succeed in snaring one, she might close her human mind to the slurpy gooey eating part of it.
Bryce slammed the trunk of his car shut and tucked the blanket under an arm. He used that same arm to carry the hamper, leaving a free hand to grab hers.
She almost yanked it away, mostly because the jolt of awareness immediately brought a flush to her body.
“What did we say about flinching?” he teased, lacing her fingers with his, allowing no escape.
“That wasn’t flinching. It was preserving my bubble.”
“Relax and let me in. I won’t bite.”
He might not, but she could. And scratch too. Meow.
“You come here often?” she asked, striving for nonchalance in spite of a racing heart.
“As much as I can. I find the forest to be peaceful. The one place I can be myself.”
She understood that all too well. At times, when she shifted at night, the freedom to be herself, her true self, was bittersweet.
“Is it a protected parkland?”
“Protected, yes, but not by the government. My family owns this.”
“All of it?” she asked, because she’d gotten the impression it extended for miles and miles.
“Three thousand nine hundred and sixty-three acres, to be exact.”
“Wow. But then again, I guess that makes sense.” She pointed to the trees. “Sap for the syrup.”
“Not from this section, but you are correct. We have a dedicated section for collection. Our foresters keep it thriving, ensuring any sickly trees are immediately cared for.”
“You use pesticides?”
He visibly shuddered. “Perish the thought. We use more natural methods, culling as the last resort.”
“You sound like you’re really into the whole maple syrup thing.”
“I am.” He smiled down at her. “It’s not only lucrative, it’s delicious.”
The way he said it caused her to shiver. To have that applied to—
She ignored the direction of her thoughts. “How far are we going?” Because if she wasn’t mistaken, they neared the stream.
“Not far. You should recognize it. It is, after all, where we first unofficially met.”
The word brought a chill. What is he saying?
She’d never seen Bryce in the woods. The only time she’d been here she’d been shifted.
Think of it.
Her mind shied. “It’s peaceful here.”
“Indeed it is. I thought you might need it.”
“Why?”
“I was talking to Martha. She happened to mention your mother is a tad difficult.”
A noise left her. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“I know about difficult family members.” He squeezed her hand, a moment of shared understanding that eased something inside her.
When they emerged from the forest, the sound of the stream filled her senses, as did the smell of it. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, filling her lungs, letting herself relax.
This was nice. For a fake date.
“Here we are.” He tossed the blanket to the ground and spread it. He set the basket in the middle and, with a wave of his hand, invited her to sit.
They then proceeded to have a normal picnic. The food in the hamper was beyond delicious: thick-cut sandwiches layered with smoky ham, Dijon mustard, and Swiss cheese, plus crispy lettuce. The kettle chips were salty and crunched. A thermos of lemon iced tea went down smooth. He’d even thought to bring some freshly baked cookies for dessert.
It might have been the best meal she’d ever had. The company might have had a lot to do with that. Despite his innate arrogance, Bryce had a quick wit and charm that kept her on her toes as they conversed. He flirted outrageously, probably something he did with every woman he met, and yet, she still enjoyed it.
His intelligence shone through as he spoke, as did his love for this land, the company, and even his ornery grandfather.
It was all too easy to forget that this was a sham. If only it weren’t.
The fall afternoon unfolded perfectly, the temperature just right, the sun a dancing delight on her skin. She turned her face into it and not for the first time wished she could run free in its rays.
“Want to go for a nature walk?” Bryce asked.
She opened her eyes as a shadow fell over her. Bryce stood and, as she watched, began to unbutton his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Because she could have sworn he’d asked her to walk, and most people stayed c
lothed for that.
“Preserving my clothes. Aren’t you going to strip, too?”
“Uh, no. I prefer to keep my clothes on when going for a stroll.”
He canted his head. “You weren’t wearing any clothes the other night.”
The comment confused. “What are you talking about?”
“The first time we unofficially met.” At her blank face, he sighed. “By the river. You can stop pretending you don’t remember meeting my majestic moose.”
The conversation turned from odd to disturbing. “You have a pet moose?”
“Not a pet. Me. I’m the moose.”
The words finally sank in, as did their meaning. Still, it couldn’t be. I thought I was the only one.
A concept that made her inner kitty chuff.
Ask him. “You can change into an animal?”
“Of course I can. Hold on a second, are you telling me you didn’t know?” Now it was his turn to look puzzled.
She took a deep breath. “I’ve never met someone else that could. I thought I was alone.”
The whites of his eyes showed in his surprise. “Alone? Why would you think that? Didn’t your parents teach you any of your heritage...” The words trailed off. “Holy shit, your mom never knew and—”
“My dad left.” Her head ducked as her shoulders lifted and fell. “I found out by accident when I was a teenager.”
“Damn. That must have been confusing.”
More like terrifying for a young girl who’d run off after yet another fight with her mother, feeling something wild beating in her chest, something fighting to get free.
“I learned how to deal with it. But I never knew there was others like me.”
“Didn’t you smell them? We’re very distinct.”
“I’ve smelled something, with some people.” Her gaze met his briefly, but she couldn’t handle the directness of it, so she quickly dropped it. “But it’s not exactly like you can go up to them and say, ‘Hey, you smell like an animal.’” She peeked at him.
His lips quirked. “It is considered rather gauche.”
“So, there’s more people like me out there?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“And you’re a moose?” The very idea boggled the mind. Wolves, she could fathom. Bears, too. Even big cats like lions and tigers and a lynx like her, but a moose? She snickered.