Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Belle
My head tips back as I full-belly laugh at the sight of myself in the full-length mirror that Rhys has on the back of his bedroom door.
“I look silly,” I tell him, a giggle escaping me.
He grins and shrugs. “You look cute.”
Before he would let me go outside with him, Rhys insisted on dressing me for the weather by loading me up on layers of his clothes. I can barely move my arms in three long-sleeved shirts, two sweatshirts, and a coat. My legs are nearly as bad with three layers of sweatpants on. My feet are nice and toasty, though, with four pairs of thermal socks, so that I can borrow a pair of snow boots without sliding around in them since my feet are much smaller than Rhys’.
“Maybe we could just lose a couple of things so that I can actually move?” I take a few steps across his room to model the penguin waddle walk I have to use if I stay dressed in all of these layers.
Rhys taps his chin while examining my waddle, frowning as if the idea of me undressing is offensive. Ironic coming from a man who slipped his hand under my clothes last night. Now doesn’t seem like the time to mention that, though. I’m hoping everyone will forget that happened.
“I’m willing to let you sacrifice one shirt if you’ll agree to two scarves, two pairs of gloves, and a hat.”
“We’re negotiating?” In that case... “I’ll agree to one scarf, two pairs of gloves, and the hat, but only if you let me ditch a shirt, a sweatshirt, and a pair of pants.”
“No way.”
“You sound like Knox,” I point out.
His mouth gapes open. “You take that back.”
I shake my head while I smile playfully so that he knows I’m teasing him. Rhys is far too friendly to be compared to surly Knox. The two seem almost nothing alike aside from the fact that all three men obviously care deeply for one another. That seems to be the only uniting force besides an apparent affinity for life in the wilderness.
Of course, more people might enjoy life in the wilderness if all of them got to live in a nice cabin the way they do. Though phone and internet access would go a long way in making the cabin seem less remote.
Being cut off from the rest of the world feels weird.
Not that I would know who to contact anyway, even if they could offer me cell service. I still can’t wrap my mind around what kind of person I must be to have been driving with no purse or phone in the middle of a snowstorm.
I haven’t ruled out the possibility that I might be on the run with legal troubles. Until I take another look at myself in the mirror. No way do I look the part of a hardened criminal. Even if I curl my lip and squint with angry eyebrows like the villain in an action movie.
“What are you doing?” Rhys asks, moving closer.
Oops, forgot where I was for a second.
“Practicing my villain face for my acting career.”
“Are you an actress?” He doesn’t look the least bit surprised by the prospect.
The idea of performing in front of a bunch of people and being judged makes me immediately queasy. I shake my head quickly. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re pretty enough to be an actress.”
He looks sincere.
“Oh... thanks.”
For a moment, we stand frozen with our gazes locked, and I swear I can feel our breathing sync up.
Rhys steps towards me, inhaling deeply, before groaning.
The sound causes me to blush, and a wave of cinnamon smell fills the air. It’s not necessarily arousal…I guess it feels more like comfort? Security?
Rhys clears his throat, interrupting the intense connection. “We should get started on chores before I’m stuck chopping firewood in the dark.”
“Chopping wood?” My entire body perks up with interest.
“Belle, I think we just discovered something about you.” He nudges the coat off of my shoulders and begins stripping me of the sweatshirts I’m bundled in. Focusing on his words rather than the careful way he undresses me is nearly impossible. Rhys leans in so close that I can feel his breath on my lips as he tells me, “You seem to have a lumberjack fantasy.”
I think he might be right.
* * *
“C’mon, my cute little snow bunny.” Rhys waves for me to follow him around the side of the house, trudging through a few inches of snow that’s begun the process of melting already.
He thinks I’m lagging behind because I can’t keep up. I’m actually staying a few paces behind him on purpose so that I can watch the confident way he leads me around. His boots crunch with every sure-footed step he takes through the snow.
There’s a shed in front of us, and Rhys pauses to open the doors and peer inside.
“Here we go.” He reaches in and retrieves two shovels. “Chore number one after a snowfall like this is clearing a path to the woodshed. With the snow starting to melt, the path might turn icy by tonight. No one wants to be ice skating to the woodshed for more wood if the path is frozen over tomorrow.”
I glance at the shed he seems to be talking about, which is only a few additional feet away.
“You might think I’m exaggerating, but you’d be amazed how intolerant of the short trek some people are when the conditions aren’t ideal.” He begins carving out the path with his shovel, and I do my best to follow suit... which mostly means a pathetic attempt at shoveling that might make more work for him than he started with, if I’m being honest.
Oopsies.
“Not that I’m naming any names,” Rhys adds with a grin that says he absolutely will if I press him about it.
I laugh softly, and instead of asking him more about that, I decide to ask about him. I remember last night he mentioned building the garage with his dad. “How long have you lived in the middle of nowhere?”
He pauses mid-shovel before getting back into rhythm again.
“This land is where I’ve always lived.” His voice lowers and turns a bit dreamy. “My parents raised me in the original house, which the guys and I have expanded over the years since my parents decided to buy a condo on the beach to retire to.”
“How many parents do you have?” I know the question is cheesy since it’s the one everyone asks, but it’s the best way to get a feel for what kind of relationship dynamic was modeled for someone growing up. Not everyone lives in a pack dynamic, the way my parents did.
“I grew up with two. An omega mom and alpha dad. They had another alpha male in their pack when they first got together, but he passed away in an accident before I came along. They honored him in the house while I was growing up, though. Even set a place for him at the table during the holidays. I always liked that.”
“That’s sweet.” I feel a pang of grief as I remember doing the same for my mom the first Christmas after she passed away. I’m not ready to share about my mom just yet, so I’m grateful that Rhys has to change the subject as we draw close to the woodshed.
“We keep the woodshed as fully stocked as possible at all times, which means we’re constantly rotating the wood. The old stuff always gets used first.”
I nod along as he explains, happy to be getting details about the nitty-gritty, day-to-day stuff. There’s something wonderfully intimate about Rhys explaining to me how the household works. As if there’s a reason for me to be learning these details.
I’m determined to take this as a promising sign.
“I chop most of the wood.” Rhys tips his head toward another building, one that’s larger than the woodshed but smaller than the garage, sitting slightly further off from the house. “Knox also takes turns, since he’s got the arms and the attitude for throwing the axe around.”
“He seems like a pretty angry guy...”
“Nah. Just a bit grumpy.” Rhys pauses to choose his words carefully. “Knox is an artist. A great one. With that comes a lot of emotional depth, and he feels all of his feelings in a big way. Sometimes that looks messy for the rest of us, but he’s the most genuine person I’ve ever known and wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
I can’t stop swooning over their admiration for each other. Even if I didn’t know they all were sexually attracted to each other, it’s easy to see their love for one another runs deeper than surface level.
They are a pack . Family.
And once again, I wonder how I can fit in that dynamic.
“I’ve been worried he doesn’t like me,” I admit quietly as I watch Rhys for any sign of confirmation or pity.
Rhys shakes his head adamantly. “That’s not true at all. He’s just scared.”
I want to ask a million more questions, but I know that anything I want to know about Knox should come from Knox himself. Just because the guys know each other well doesn’t mean I get to skip the step of getting to know them each for myself.
If Knox will give me a chance.
Before I can ruminate for too long, Rhys pushes the shed door closed and grabs my hand.
“Next, I’ll show you our generator set-up and then, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you watch me chop wood.” He gives my hand a tight squeeze as he pulls me along with him back down the path we– mostly he– shoveled out.
“Thank you for letting me tag along,” I tell him. “I know I’m slowing you down, but I like seeing how you keep the house running up here.”
Rhys slows his steps and studies my face with a warm smile. “Showing you around is my pleasure. Besides, you should learn how everything works. Just in case...”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I can fill in the blank for myself. Just in case I wind up staying. I want to, but I don’t know how to tell him that or ask about the possibility just yet.
Dropping my chin to stare shyly at my own feet, I admit so quietly that I’m not sure he can even hear me when I say, “I want to learn.”