by Sophie Stern
And I got the job, didn’t I?
“I did,” he says, his smile is gone, but his eyes are still twinkling. “I’m sorry it didn’t go so well, but I’m glad you’ve agreed to give us another try. I think you’ll find that Honeypot is a rather unusual place, but once you get used to our little quirks, it’s not such a bad place to live.”
Before I have a chance to ask what little quirks he’s talking about, Carter steps back and motions for me to come into the house.
“Where’s Wyatt?” I ask.
“Miss my brother already?” Carter asks, and I roll my eyes.
“Just curious.”
“He’s chasing down a lost calf.”
“Oh no,” I gasp. “Is it okay?”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Carter assures me. “It’s all part of the job. Part of the fence was down and it got through. One of our employees, Alex, noticed it yesterday. You’ll meet him soon, I’m sure.” Then he eyes me for a moment and adds, “You haven’t spent much time in the country, have you?”
“Is it that obvious?” I shift uncomfortably, but don’t bother lying. I figure that if I tell the truth, even if it’s not very fun, at least I’ll be an honest idiot, rather than a lying one.
“Don’t worry about it,” Carter says. “I know you’re from a small town, but there are going to be some things that are different. Outside of city limits, we’re on our own for most things. It’ll be okay. We’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
He’s friendly. I like him immediately. He’s very different from his brother and I’m not sure what to make of that. Maybe it’s because I’m an only child, but I always expected that siblings would behave in a certain way around each other.
I guess I thought they’d have a lot of personality similarities, but Carter and Wyatt aren’t that way at all. Though their appearances are somewhat similar – which is why I thought Carter looked familiar when I met him – that’s the end of it. Wyatt carries himself with professionalism and determination. He walks like he has a purpose. Carter seems more casual and carefree. He seems like the “fun” brother, if I had to give him a label.
“There’s a lot to learn, but you seem pretty bright, so I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly,” Carter says. “For today, we just need to get your paperwork sorted, then I’ll show you your cabin.”
“My cabin?” I ask. I knew there was housing provided on-site, but I didn’t know exactly where it would be.
“Yeah, there are five,” he says. “You’ll be in number three. My brother Micah lives in number one and Alex is in two. The other cabins are vacant.”
“Do visitors stay there often?” I ask.
“No. That’s part of why I wanted to hire you. From what I can tell, you’re something of a social media genius.”
“That’s true,” I say. I’m not bragging, but I’m good. I probably should have highlighted those skills in the original interview with Wyatt, but I freaked out.
Badly.
“We want to expand the ranch,” Carter tells me. He leads me down a hall and to a cozy office. There are a couple of desks and he sits at one, then motions for me to pull up a chair. “My parents retired last year and gave us the ranch to do with as we pleased.”
“Wow. That’s quite a responsibility.”
“You aren’t joking. One of the things we want to do is make it more of a tourist attraction.”
“There isn’t a lot to see in Honeypot, from what I could tell.”
“Yeah, but we want to change all that. Honeypot is unique in its own way and we feel that will bring in plenty of visitors once they know all it has to offer. In the meantime, we’re planning on sprucing up the ranch, adding more cabins, and coming up with some fun activities for visitors to participate in.”
“Sounds like a lot of fun and a lot of work.”
“You up for the challenge?” Carter winks and hands me a stack of paperwork.
“Where do I sign?”
Chapter 11
Hope
Carter offers to help me unpack my car, but I turn him down. I really just want to unload the basics, then crash. I want my own bedding and a couple of books, my toothbrush, and a few bottles of water. Most of my things can wait until later and to be honest, I’m kind of loving the minimalist décor in the cabin. Before I finish unpacking all of my stuff, I kind of want to enjoy the scarcity of the cabin. It’s so different from my old place. Like everything else that’s been happening this week, the room really feels like a fresh start.
I’m exhausted and sweaty by the time I finally settle down in my room. It’s nothing a good shower and a good nap won’t cure.
The cabin itself isn’t much to speak of. It’s a single multi-purpose room with a bed, a mini kitchen, and a loveseat. There’s an attached bathroom, which is great because the idea of sharing or having to go all the way up to the main house creeps me out.
For some reason, I pictured the cabins at Blair Ranch to be more like the type of cabin you’d see when you go to summer camp. You know: the log building with a couple of bunks and a shared bathroom you have to trudge to alone in the dark.
Luckily for me, the reality is much more fantastic.
First things first: I set up my bed. I throw on my favorite quilt and a couple of throw pillows, then kick off my shoes and strip down. What I want is a long, hot shower. What I need is a nap.
And food.
Still, the shower beckons, so I climb in and let the water wash away the stress and sweat of the day. Only, once I’m relaxed, I start feeling really relaxed, and I start thinking about Wyatt again.
Why can’t I get him out of my head?
He wasn’t that nice during our first meeting, but he was so self-assured. Something drew me to him instantly, like he was the kind of guy I could talk to about anything. No topic would be off limits.
Then he apologized. He tracked me down and apologized. When had Jacob Clint ever done that?
Never.
Even when I caught him balls deep in my best friend, he’d never apologized. No, Jacob had given me excuses.
Maybe if you’d put out, I wouldn’t have had to go to her.
It just happened.
You can’t blame me. It’s been two years.
Margaret let it slip they’d been together for months, so I know perfectly well that it didn’t “just” happen. Still, an apology would have been nice. A little honesty would have been nice.
I get the feeling that Wyatt is the kind of guy who isn’t scared to be blunt and truthful, even when it hurts.
I get the feeling that Wyatt is unlike any man I’ve ever met before.
What would it be like to be with Wyatt? My mind starts to wander and my hands make their way over my breasts and down my stomach. I can’t help but think about how it would feel with him kissing me, touching my nipples, licking my neck.
Would Wyatt Blair be soft or heavy? Slow or fast? Quick or long?
Would he take his time making love to me or would he ravage me?
Would he fuck me hard and fast?
Would he pull my hair?
My hands glide between my legs and begin to rub. I can’t believe I’m fantasizing about my boss in the shower, but today I can’t help myself. When I kissed Wyatt, I was imagining more. Even though it was just an innocent peck on the cheek, I wanted more. What would it have been like if he had pushed me against the car and owned my mouth?
What would I have done if he had gripped my ass, pulling me into his body?
Is he the type of man who would slide a hand up my skirt in the parking lot or would he carry me home over his shoulder?
Picturing Wyatt has me groaning and moaning loudly. Luckily, I’m the only one in my cabin and I know I closed the front door. Still, I’m panting and breathing hard. When I start to picture his cock sliding into my mouth, I know I’m done for.
I come hard and fast in the shower, holding the wall for support as my body trembles in the water. It’s been awhile since I masturbated i
n the shower, but I needed the release, and I feel warm and relaxed all over.
Trying not to feel ashamed of my fantasies, I finish rinsing my body and step out. There’s a soft towel hanging on the rack and I grab it, wrapping it around my body. When I step out into the bedroom, I scream in surprise.
“What are you doing here?” I shriek. Wyatt is standing in the middle of my room and he looks just as scared to see me as I am to see him.
“Were you touching yourself in there?” He asks. My eyes immediately go to his crotch and I bite my lip when I see his painfully obvious hard-on.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat, ignoring his question.
“I brought you flowers,” he says, holding up a bouquet, but he places them on the bed and turns back to me. “I wanted to give you a proper welcome to your new home, but I can see you got started without me.”
“I don’t…I don’t know what you mean,” I say, but my voice comes out as a whisper, and suddenly I wish he had been watching me in the shower. That’s something I’ve never done before and never even really been interested in before.
What would it be like to have someone look as I played with my body?
What would it be like to have Wyatt Blair look at me as I touched myself?
“I think you know exactly what I mean, little human,” he says, and he takes another step towards me. I back up against the wall, and Wyatt crowds my space, but I don’t mind. In fact, I wish he would keep moving forward until his body was pressed against mine.
Until all I could breathe was him.
“No…” I whisper. “I don’t know.”
“Were you rubbing your pussy in the shower, Hope?” He whispers.
I gulp. I should lie. I should lie and say “no,” but where would the fun in that be? I came to Honeypot for a fresh start, a new start, and if I start with lies, I’ll just be the same girl. I’ll be the same boring girl who was a virgin after two years of dating and whose boyfriend wanted her friend.
So I decide to be different.
I decide to take a risk.
I decide to be honest.
“Yes,” the word floats from my tongue, and Wyatt’s eyes flash dark. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they looked completely black, just for a second.
“What were you thinking about while you rubbed yourself, darling?”
“I was thinking about you,” I say, and I know I’m blushing. He strokes my cheek with his hand, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me, but he just keeps watching me.
“Is that so, honey?”
I nod.
“Were you thinking about how good it would feel to have me rubbing your pussy for you, Hope?”
“Yes.”
“Were you thinking about how much you want me to lick and suck on your nipples until they’re hard and pink, Hope?”
“Yes.”
He leans in close and whispers in my ear, “Were you thinking about how much you want me to eat your pussy until you come all over my face, Hope?”
“Yes.”
I’m so aroused that I’m shaking. It’s like the orgasm in the shower never happened. How does Wyatt Blair have this effect on me? No one in my life has made me so horny that my knees trembled, but he does.
I want him to kiss me. I’m already pinned against the wall with his body close to mine, but he’s still being a gentleman, I realize. He hasn’t kissed me or pressed himself against me. If I jerk my hips forward, I’ll be able to rub against his cock. I’ll be able to see how long and hard it feels for myself, but something holds me back. His own restraint surprises me, so I try to imitate that behavior, just for a second, just to see what he’s doing.
“Soon, baby,” he whispers, nipping my ear. “Soon I’ll have you in my bed, on your knees, begging me for more.”
I close my eyes and open my mouth, but he just kisses me on the nose and turns to leave. When I open my mouth again, he’s gone, but the room smells like roses and Wyatt.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I ask aloud, but no one is here to answer.
Chapter 12
Wyatt
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I mutter, leaving her cabin. I walk right over to Micah’s and barge in without knocking.
“Hey!” He cries out, closing his web browser. He was obviously looking at porn. Or something. I don’t know. I don’t want to know. That’s not why I’m here.
I ignore him and head for the mini-fridge where I know he has an ample supply of booze. Micah’s no alcoholic, but he’s also not a prude. I open it up and grab a beer and chug.
“Slow down there, champ,” Micah says, standing and stretching. When I don’t show signs of listening to his advice, grabbing another beer and starting in on it, he looks concerned. “Long day?”
“Something weird just happened.”
“Weird like, shifters dancing in pink tutus or weird like, you have a crush on the new girl?”
“I have a crush on the new girl.”
Micah looks self-satisfied and grabs a beer for himself. He pops the top and turns back to me.
“Totally called it,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
“When Carter told me he was hiring a super hot girl from out of town, I called it. I said you’d be into her.”
“How did you know she was super hot?” I say, jealousy starting to rear its ugly head. Had he seen a picture of her before she came here? What did he know about her past? I shouldn’t be surprised; Micah is a genius with computers. Of course Carter would ask him to run a background check and take a look at her Internet presence prior to interviewing her. It only makes sense.
“Calm down there, lover boy,” Micah says calmly. Too calmly. My youngest brother is very self-controlled. He’s more put-together than I could ever hope to be, but Micah has his own secrets. I don’t know what he’s going through right now and I hope that at some point, he’ll open up to me, but right now I know he’s fighting his own demons.
“Sorry,” I say, realizing I’ve gone full caveman on him. That’s not like me. Not really. Then again, I haven’t really been myself since before I dated sweet Georgia Edwards. When she left, something inside of me changed. Something went dark.
Part of me felt like it had died and would never feel alive again.
“Carter had me run her background check. That included checking up on her social media sites. I know you don’t handle hiring much, but these days, it’s really important to look online. Most people post using their real names and a lot of times, they think things are private that aren’t. You’d be surprised at how many applicants we had whose online profiles had pictures of them drinking, doing drugs, or just partying in general.”
“And that’s not okay,” I say dryly. Micah just shrugs.
“Nothing wrong with how people live their lives, but we also need to be careful that our employees are going to present a professional image.”
“I understand.” My curiosity is driving me crazy, though, and I’m itching to ask what he found. Of course, I could pull out my phone and look her up, too, but Micah has tools and skills that I couldn’t dream of.
“You want to know what I found?” He asks, finally preparing to put me out of my misery.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“What? Knowing more than you for once in my life? Of course.”
I drink the beer, waiting. There’s no pushing Micah when he gets in these moods. Finally, he sits back down and pulls up a folder on his computer. He motions me closer and I move. It’s Hope. It’s all the data he gathered about her life: pictures of Hope, data about her last job, and a transcript of a conversation with her last boss.
“You actually called her references?” I ask. “I always thought that was just for show.”
“Most people do. That’s why I always call.” He taps the screen. “Hope Demers. 26 years old, model citizen. She graduated with honors and a degree in English literature. After graduation, she l
anded a job at A Cup of Tea and turned the company around. Her boss quickly promoted her, as she should have, and put Hope in charge of basically everything.”
Micah pulls up a few pictures and newspaper articles. Hope looks so happy in them, so peaceful. She looks excited, even. Something must have changed, must have happened to her. She’s still completely gorgeous, but now her eyes look more sad than happy. What secrets is Hope hiding? What burdens is she bearing on her own?
“Why Honeypot?” I ask. “Why would she leave this perfect life behind for something so different?” I don’t know if Micah’s research when that deep, but when he turns back to me, I know that he knows.
“It’s probably not my place to say anything,” he begins. “Usually, when I discover something about an employee’s past, I don’t tell Carter unless it’s vital that he know, but you’re my brother, so fuck it.”
He clicks an image and pulls it up. Hope is standing next to another guy, one who looks like a real asshole. He’s obviously human and obviously a spoiled rich kid. His button-down plaid does nothing to convince me that he’s good enough for her.
“Meet Jacob Clint,” Micah says. “Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t listed as one of her references, but there were so many pictures of them together on social media, I decided to look into it.”
“She has a boyfriend,” I say through gritted teeth, frustrated and upset that I was coming onto her. More importantly, she let me. What the hell? I might not go after humans often, but I never go after cheaters. That is so not my style. If a girl belongs to another guy, I stay away.
Far away.
“Slow down there, tiger,” Micah says, smirking because he knows I don’t like to be called “tiger.” I’m not a tiger. I’m a fucking bear. If he’s going to call me anything, he can call me bear.
Or nothing.
“Continue,” I say, my voice tight.
“As I was saying,” Micah leans back and threads his fingers together behind his neck. He’s so relaxed. Why can’t I be that way? But seriously, when is he going to get to the point? “She has a lot of pictures with this guy, but he wasn’t listed as a reference. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out they were dating.”