by Stacey Mewse
Gemma smirked at him petulantly ‘she’s gone to town to catch up with a gentleman she met, he wants to talk to her about investing in some of the land she’s not currently using. She’ll be back by three apparently, and in the meantime you should probably get to work and fix the fence you were called here to mend.’
Hunter turned and began to walk away, calling back ‘which –’
‘The sand school’ she cut him off.
He stalked off thoroughly agitated by the encounter but trying not to let it rile him. She was always snappy and it never failed to irritate him. Why was she so concerned about his relationship with Lucy, what did it matter to her? Yes they had been friends for a long time, had even briefly dated but things had not worked out. It had never felt right, it had been too forced on his part and he had balked the first time she had slid her hands down his belly towards his waist. He remembered vividly grabbing her wrists and stepping away from her, the hurt in her eyes as he shook his head. He had known her for so long she was more like a sister to him, it was a relationship he did not want to complicate. Something in him told him that she was not his, it wasn’t right and he felt inclined to listen as the feeling was a strong one.
As he got to work on fixing the fence his mind stayed focused on her. By all rights he should have found her irresistible, she was very typically beautiful; had everything society looked on as attractive. She was 5”3, slim, and yet with curvaceous hips, softly rounded DD breasts and firm buttocks. Her legs were slender and her dimpled smile lit up a room, her hair a cascading fall of sunny blonde and her eyes a clear, shining blue. She even had a good sense of humor… Yet something was missing. There was no spark with her, no butterflies, and even though she was pretty he had no desire to tear off her clothes. Perhaps it was something to do with her scent, or perhaps the fact that he had known her parents many years before he had moved away… Then moved back many years later to see her grown into a woman… The beast inside him was also on a constant lookout for females of his kind, that was what he needed to fill the void… Yet none ever came. He could count on one hand the amount of times in his life he had scented a female werewolf, and he had never laid eyes on one. He had puzzled over this on many occasions, but could not find a decent explanation. Over time he had considered many possibilities… Perhaps the females were closely guarded, or perhaps they were physically weaker and couldn’t cope with the change… Maybe less women got bitten as they just weren’t as ‘out-doorsy’ as men? Whatever the reason he didn’t hold out much hope of finding one, let alone one who was interested.
Lucy’s whereabouts were a far more pressing matter. She very rarely left the yard for the day as she always worried that something would go wrong in her absence. As he packed up his tools he wondered who she was meeting, not that asking Gemma would get him anywhere! He had known for a while that she was thinking of selling some of her land, but had secretly suspected that she would change her mind and either have more stables built or convert it into paddocks.
Knowing he would find out soon enough either way he picked up his toolbox and made his way back towards the office.
He was well prepared for the frosty reception he received from Gemma. She swung open the door and looked him over with utter disgust. ‘That was quick’ she snapped ‘I trust you’ve done the job to a suitable standard?’
Hunter couldn’t help the sneer that twisted his lips, she was deliberately antagonizing him. ‘Gemma no matter how badly you might think of me I do my jobs well, as anyone in the village will testify. As I’m sure would Lucy’s father who I know oversees this place and handles most of the external contracts for her.’
Gemma’s expression gave no indication that she had heard anything he had said, she simply turned away and closed the door in his face.
Jolting backwards Hunter glowered at the door, which had slammed shut just centimetres from his face. He would speak to Lucy next time he saw her, Gemma’s rudeness was getting worse and he had just about had enough of dealing with her. He’d never done or said anything to her for Christ’s sake! He deserved better treatment than he was getting.
Whilst he was busy silently fuming the door creaked open a crack and a sealed envelope sailed through the gap and into the mud. ‘There.’ Came the sharp exclamation from inside the building before the door slammed violently shut.
Hunter’s lip curled into a snarl as he fished his pay packet out of the mud and stormed back to the van. Jesus she was rude! But what could he do with a difficult woman except graciously accept the abuse?
Trying harder than ever not to allow himself to get too wound up, he carefully placed his tool kit in the rear of the van and sat down next to it to remove his third t-shirt of the day. Shuffling backwards he reached over the passenger seat and groped around for the t-shirt that he had thrown there earlier that day. Twisting round uncomfortably he swore under his breath as he struggled to reach it; his frown quickly turning into a smug smile when he snagged it with his fingertips.
Quickly rubbing off any remaining perspiration with the old t-shirt he threw on the new one and settled back to allow himself to cool down for a moment. Whereupon his stomach turned and released a loud growl. He was starving! Perhaps there would be time for a quick meal before his duties at the village hall if he hurried…
Spurred on by the churning of his belly he hopped into the drivers seat and set off on his way back into the village.
Chapter 6
It had not taken Hunter long to reach the car park for the village hall he was to be helping renovate later that day. Once there he parked up the van and went off in search of somewhere to eat. He knew that there were restaurants nearby but he didn’t fancy sitting in one alone, and so sought out a pub.
The first one he came across was set just back from the main road that cut through the village, and had a large board advertising that days specials sat outside. That would do, his stomach rumbled. That would do nicely!
He pushed through the door and found the establishment to be pleasantly quiet, with just a few old men who were clearly regulars propping up the far side of the bar. A quick glance at the clock revealed why, it was barely past three o’clock and much earlier than he had thought it was.
Not feeling entirely confident that they would be serving food at such an obscure hour; he sidled over to the bar and lent over it to read the specials board and wait for the barmaid. He noticed the name scrawled across the top of the blackboard and realized he hadn’t even stopped long enough to catch sight of the sign outside. The cozy place was called ‘the wheat sheaf’ and a very quaint, very British little pub it was too.
He took in his surroundings whilst he waited, having already chosen his meal from the list within seconds of entering the building. He had driven past this place on many occasions but had never entered it, and he found himself pleasantly surprised by its homely interior. It was all dark wood and plush red seating, the walls were papered with dark brown up to about hip height and painted a rich cream above that. Pictures of country landscapes were hung here and there, and he could even see a dartboard and what looked like the corner of a billiards table around the far corner of the bar.
He mused that depending on the quality of the food he could quite easily find himself frequenting this little place. The atmosphere was relaxed and the men at the far side of the room showed no sign of making trouble. In fact they hadn’t even looked up as he walked through the door.
As he studied the various beer and ale taps, a portly middle-aged woman with blonde curls rounded the corner of the bar. He suppressed a chuckle as the expression on her face faltered for a moment before her mouth curved into a friendly smile. He could practically hear her wondering whom the handsome stranger who stood at her bar was.
Hunter returned her smile and watched her sashay her way towards him, reaching up to take a clean pint glass as she advanced.
‘What can I do ya for darlin?’ She asked with the roughened voice of a seasoned smoker.
Ign
oring the cigarette stench that assaulted his sensitive nostrils, Hunter shifted his weight from one leg to the other and answered in his smooth, deep cadence. ‘Seeing as you have a glass at the ready I’ll have one of your finest ciders with plenty of ice. And if it’s not to much trouble I’d love a steak with chips tomatoes and mushrooms?’
She scooped some ice into his glass from a little metal bucket that sat on the bar, and began to fill it from one of the taps which lined the bar’s edge as she answered. ‘No problem at all darlin, a rump or a sirloin? And how do you take it?’
Hunter took a grateful swig from the glass that had been freshly placed before him, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he answered. ‘Rump and blue please. Tell your chef to show it the pan and then put it on the plate’ he winked.
She laughed and nodded ‘will do darlin, why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you in just a moment.’
He nodded and turned to find a table, quickly settling on one beside a window and making himself comfy while he waited. Peering out through the slightly dust speckled glass, he watched idly as cars trundled past and people meandered down the street. Nobody seemed to be in any great rush to get where they were going, and there even appeared to be one individual asleep in their car parked up on the far side of the road.
Just as Hunter was musing over the fact that it was not a vehicle he recognized the barmaid reappeared with his meal. She set it down in front of him and left him a knife and fork neatly wrapped in a white napkin. ‘Salt and pepper are on the bar plus any other condiments you might like’ she instructed. ‘I hope its all alright for you, just let me know if you’re not satisfied.’
Carving into his steak and popping a chunk into his mouth Hunter nodded appreciatively; watching thin blood seep out of the slab of meat and soak into the lower layer of his chips.
‘Its lovely thank you.’ He smiled past food stuffed cheeks, thoroughly enjoying the tender steak and washing down his mouthful with another swig of ice-cold cider. So focused was he on the plate before him he barely noticed the waitress return to her post at the bar. Rare meat satisfied the beast in him in a way that almost nothing else did. Watching blood spread slowly across the clean white porcelain had it dancing joyously to the forefront of his mind. The faint metallic tang of it … The chill, tender centre of the meat wrapped by the rapidly cooling seared outer layer. It had him almost shivering with delight. He suspected the beast would have wagged its monstrous tail at the offering, and the thought bought a wry smile to his face behind his mouthful of food. The thing was not all hatred and malice; it enjoyed the simple things in life… It was just a shame that fresh meat was one of those simple pleasures. His lupine palette enjoyed the vegetables too but to a lesser extent. The greasy taste of the oil they had been fried in lingered on his tongue. He made a note to request that they were cooked in water next time.
As he munched on his chips, which were the last item left on his plate, Hunter glanced out of the window and noticed that the strange car was still there. Though it seemed that its formerly sleeping inhabitant was gone.
With a mental shrug he cleared the last few chips form his plate and chugged the remainder of his cider. It was not beyond the people in the village to be able to buy themselves a new car, why it bothered him so was beyond him… and yet it continued to niggle. Either way he had to get back to the hall and get started, time was ticking away!
Balancing his glass on the freshly cleared plate he licked his lips and deposited the items onto the bar. The waitress chuckled and took the money he offered without checking the amount, stuffing it into the till without taking her eyes off his rugged face.
‘Good was it sir?’ She asked, putting back her shoulders a little in an attempt to subtly elevate her ageing breasts.
Hunter nodded slowly, ignoring her practically trusting her chest in his direction. “It was wonderful, you’ll definitely be seeing me again...’ He paused and studied her front for a name badge.
‘Martha’ she offered up when the silence began to become too long. ‘I look forward to it Mr…’
He smiled warmly and extended his hand for her to shake ‘you can call me Hunter. It was a pleasure to meet you Martha, and to discover this fine little establishment of yours.’
She giggled like a schoolgirl ‘it was a pleasure meeting you too, you with your smooth tongue! Be sure to call back soon darlin.’ Her ample bosom jiggled as she laughed.
Hunter’s smile broadened and he turned to leave, waving over his shoulder ‘oh I will do. With steak that good you’ll have trouble keeping me out!’
He heard her good-natured laugh in response as he walked out of the door and shook his head with a smile. He knew barmaids were usually flirtatious by nature but her lack of subtlety had really tickled him. Those breasts were obvious enough without having them pointed at you!
Contemplating the peculiarities of female nature Hunter walked back to his van and checked the doors were locked out of pure habit, before heading for the village hall. He made a mental note that he should really clean the rusted old vehicle more often, it was covered in dirt and smothered in fingerprints and hand marks… He’d have to make time for that.
He pushed through the white painted door of the hall slowly once he reached the building, peering into the large empty room before venturing in. He had expected at least one other person to be there but never mind, he was quite happy to get the job done alone, and at least that way he would be finished faster. Rubbing his hands together in a show of false enthusiasm he headed for the far side of the room where a pile of floorboards waited for him. He trod carefully on the uprooted floor, wary of the cracks that had appeared here and there, and he soon found himself looking at a neatly written note left waiting for him atop the pile of wood in the corner. It was written by the elderly gentleman who was in charge of the renovations, and detailed that he and his two sons would arrive at 7 o’clock.
Hunter sighed, he had intended to be finished by then and now would have to slow his pace to allow the others to get involved. Not that it really mattered he supposed… Besides which a bit of socialization with normal human being would probably do him some good. Living alone allowed feelings of loneliness to take hold occasionally and he was always grateful of company.
Without any further thought he set to work and began laying the floorboards. Starting in one corner of the room he dropped to his knees and began slotting the pieces together. It was easier work than he had expected and despite all the stopping and starting he had half the room done in just over an hour, which took the time to just past five in the afternoon. The glance at his watch that revealed this information was followed by a roll of his eyes. He’d have to have a break or he’d be finished by the time everyone else arrived.
Shifting his weight he sat back and crossed his legs, lifting one final piece of wood to slot into place when he heard the door creep open just a crack. His sensitive ears picked up the slight squeak of the hinges and the scuff of the door as it pushed free of the frame; and his eyes snapped towards the doorway. Watching from under his eyebrows he pushed down on the plank he had just fitted and observed the door swing further open, and a set of slender feminine fingers wrap around it.
His curiosity piqued he sat up ramrod straight and studied the figure that seemed to be almost creeping into the building as she slid through the doorway. She was no one he recognized which got his nostrils working. She smelled strange in a way that was totally alien to him… Sweet and potent, a faint hint of nervousness and a lingering scent of … It couldn’t be … Could it? After all those years alone another of his kind … A female of his kind had just wandered up to him?! His nostrils flared widely and his eyebrows rose… She was… He was certain of it … And not exactly hard on the eyes either…
She was of average height, at a guess he’d have said around 5”5; with rich brown hair that was pulled up into a tight bun. He suspected it would reach at least the small of her back if it were to be rele
ased from its pins. Her eyes were a deep brown to match her hair, and she was tanned and slender. Her figure was attractive but she lacked curves and was more athletic in build.
She watched him from between think, long lashes as he looked her over, her own delicate nostrils flaring as she took in his scent. She was not coy about turning to her more primal sense, and this cemented it for him that she was indeed what she smelled to be.
For what seemed like an age the pair regarded each other in silence from afar, tension building in the room as they both began to seep the scent of nervousness. Finally it was she who broke the silence.
‘I left a message for you at your cabin.’ Her voice was smooth, her accent hinting at Italian origin. She moved towards him, her motions fluid and graceful, she held out one hand for him to take. ‘My name is Audra, and I am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance Mr. Dalton.’
Though her enthusiasm seemed genuine enough the way in which she held out her hand suggested she was uncomfortable with the idea of physical contact. It hung in the air limply before him like a dead fish on a stick. Instead of taking the offered hand in his own he nodded warily in response and raised an eyebrow.