Chapter 5
LAUREL
I slept like shit. The heavy pub dinner didn’t help, but mostly it was the new bed and everything that had been going on. The things Monty had said about my supposed burnout or creative block or whatever bugged me more than they should have.
I was going to be a good boy today and make my therapist proud. I had a lazy morning, ate eggs and veggies Monty made for me, did some yoga in my room with the balcony door open, and took a long walk around town.
This time, I dressed for a chilly fall day in the mountains. Hiking pants, fleece hoodie, waterproof jacket, thin gloves, and my new, ultra comfy hiking boots. I’d forgone the sunglasses. Eyeing the locals in similar outfits, I felt like I might even fit in.
I passed the school, the library with a new wooden sign dangling above the door, and the town hall.
All the buildings in Beauville were somehow chunkier than normal houses.
Most of them were built from thick, round logs, and nothing stood taller than two stories.
Every cottage looked squat and heavy, as if it was rooted in the ground the same way trees were.
It was like walking through a movie set or a cartoon, and I found myself smirking at the picturesque signs and little lanterns hanging on the walls.
Would you look at that? Beauville had a pharmacy.
I peeked inside through the picture window and realized I was staring straight into the intimacy aisle.
A ginger omega with a round belly sticking out of his open jacket stood there, studying something on a white package.
Before I could move away—because hey, not being weird, spying on people shopping for sex stuff—the omega spotted me and waved through the glass.
It was the guy from the town hall, the overactive one. Oliver…something.
The next second, the bell above the door dinged, and he burst onto the street, his coat flapping around him.
“Mr. Riley, hello! How are you? Great to have you in Beauville.”
“Hi. Um. Call me Laurel, please.”
He beamed. “Of course. Laurel. You might not remember me. Oliver Klondike. I work at the town hall.”
“I remember. You wanted to talk more about, eh, forest conservation.”
“Whenever it’s convenient. I know you’re busy.”
“Not that busy. I’m on vacation.”
“Oh, that’s great. I bet you need it after your big tour.”
I made a noncommittal sound.
Oliver shifted from foot to foot, and the movement inevitably drew my gaze to his pregnant stomach. Since we were in Beauville, he was probably having a kid with a bear shifter. Or was he a shifter himself? How far along was he? And why did I care?
“So, could we book a meeting sometime?” he asked.
Cringing, I tore my eyes off his belly. Just the words “book a meeting” had me wanting to run for cover, but this was about my forest.
“I think so. I guess I could have my lawyer on a video call.”
“That would be amazing. See, not much has changed in Beauville since the eighties, and we’re playing catch-up.
We’ve updated the zoning laws and are trying to find common ground with our biggest landowners on tourism and conservation efforts.
Monty is on board and helped us a lot with new hiking trails, but it would be great to have your perspective as well. ”
Monty? What did Monty have to do with conservation around Beauville?
“Sure. Yeah,” I mumbled.
Not that I had any plans or opinions. If it meant people would give my chalet a wide berth, I’d surround it with the highest-protection national park, or hell, a bear sanctuary. That should go over well with the locals.
Oliver Klondike smiled like the sun, his freckled cheeks bunching up, as he dug something out of his deep coat pocket.
“Can I contact your assistant about this? He’s called me looking for contractors, so I still have his number in my history, I think. I swear I won’t bug you with anything outside of the town hall matters. Or could you give me your email address? I don’t want to bother Calvin again.”
Calvin had acted as a messenger when the Beauville residents freaked out about me buying the land. I had been in Europe then, but now I was here.
“You can have my private number.”
Oliver blinked. “Are you sure?”
He seemed okay. A bit too perky for my taste, but okay. He didn’t give off a psycho vibe, and besides, Calvin was friends with him, which felt like a good enough endorsement.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
I dictated my digits, reading them from my phone. I’d changed numbers often and never remembered them.
Oliver sent me a text with his name in it.
“Wonderful. Thank you so much, Mr. Ri… Laurel.”
“No problem. I’m going to…” I jabbed a thumb in the direction I’d been headed before. I didn’t know why I’d done that. Not like I had anything on my schedule.
Smiling pleasantly, Oliver stuck out his hand. “I’ll be in touch. Like I said, great to have you in Beauville, Laurel. And don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything. We all help each other around here.”
I gave his hand a proper squeeze, and his smile widened. Use his first name. He’ll like you more. I’d learned those things working with teams on tour.
“Thanks, Oliver.”
“Have a lovely day!” he chirped. Then he waltzed back into the pharmacy, presumably to continue shopping for sex stuff.
Not really knowing where I was headed, I strolled along the main road.
At the next crossing, the view opened toward the valley on the left.
On the right, the mountain peaks rose, slopes dotted with more cottages, some of them so high up in such steep places, I wondered how folks got up there.
The roads must be hidden under the canopy of trees.
Or did the shifters run home in fur, straight through the forest?
I imagined a bear zooming up through the greenery, jumping over boulders and tree stumps, grocery shopping bags dangling from his muzzle.
Something flickered between the trees up on the slope.
A car! There were roads, duh. Probably narrow and zig-zagged, death looming at every bend and curve.
I shuddered. It had been a while since I’d driven a car.
My security barely ever let me—something to do with protocols—not that I insisted all that much.
Gazing up at the mountain range rising above the forest, I didn’t realize I was shuffling backward until my foot slid off an edge. I flailed at the end of the sidewalk.
Suddenly, massive arms locked around me, and I fell back against a broad chest. The scent that enveloped me was vaguely familiar, but I’d never smelled it so strongly before.
Ooh. I would have remembered this.
Spicy and warm, like whiskey and smoked chili. All hot. What was that?
“Oops,” a deep, velvety voice said, and I struggled against the urge just to slump and close my eyes.
Let me breathe this in for a bit.
But I was in the middle of the street, wrapped in a stranger’s arms. I straightened, and the arms released me. I turned around and gawked up. And higher up.
“Jordy?”
His deep brown eyes had dark-blue flecks in them. I’d never seen an eye color like that before. With curling hair sticking from underneath a black beanie and those strange, intense eyes pinned on my face, he looked cute and intimidating at the same time, and it threw me.
He smirked, the pierced eyebrow hiking up. “Hello, Laurel. Sightseeing?”
What was I… Where… What?
My heart was thumping in my ribcage. Did he mean I was ogling him? But no. He was talking about me stumbling around town.
“Um. I was looking at a car.”
He tilted his head to the side, then glanced around. “A car?”
“The roads up there.” I pointed behind me. “Must be narrow.”
“Okay…”
He kept smirking in a way that made me think he was having fun at my expense.
And still, he looked sexy. I was supposed to be over my bad-boy charm phase.
I thought I’d grown out of that, but apparently not.
Dark, mysterious, tattooed, and a little mean still did it for me, especially the oversized, bear version. And holy hell, the scent!
“I got distracted. Just stuff in my head. I’m not high or anything.”
At that, he chuckled. “I didn’t think that.”
Why was he still staring at me? My stomach felt iffy. My stomach… I could eat…
“Lunch?” I blurted.
He blinked. “Huh?”
“Where can one get lunch in Beauville?”
“Oh. Yeah. Bert at the diner serves lunch on weekdays.”
I’d passed the diner this morning. It looked tiny. “Does it get busy?”
“Today’s meatloaf and mash. The place will be packed.”
I wrinkled my nose. Eating alone in a throng of strangers didn’t sound ideal.
“Do you want…company?” Jordy asked. “I haven’t eaten yet.”
Except he didn’t look keen on it. He squinted a little as he asked the question, as if he expected me to get bitchy or something.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you want company?”
Again, that smirk. “I don’t mind the raised eyebrows when I walk into the diner with you.”
“Will there be gossip?”
“You bet.”
He was bordering on rude to me. Too bad I found it refreshing.
“Lead the way. I want that meatloaf.”
He began striding up the main street, and I had to stretch my legs to keep up.
“I thought you were a vegetarian,” he said.
What? Oh. He probably assumed because of the veggie burger I’d ordered at the pub.
“I try not to eat too much red meat. It messes with my stomach when I overdo it. But no, not a vegetarian.”
We walked in silence for a while. Jordy wasn’t much of a talker, and I didn’t feel like making it easy for him. He surely wasn’t going out of his way to entertain me. Was I being paranoid, or did he truly have something against me? He didn’t know me at all.
We passed the school, and the sheriff’s cruiser rolled by, rocking over the speed bumps. Jordy lifted his arm in a small wave, and the driver waved back.
I didn’t feel the need to fill every second of someone’s company with noise, but if he was going to be quiet all the time, the lunch could get awkward.
I was starting to regret coming with him when he finally opened his mouth. “And how are you finding Beauville so far?”