Chapter 5
SOPHIE
At least beer doesn’t stain, Sophie thought as she dabbed at her sweater with the towel Gail gave her. And luckily she’d packed more than enough that she didn’t have to worry about one dirty piece of clothing.
Setting the towel on the counter, she washed her hands and took a deep breath.
So far, this vacation was throwing everything it could at her: a spooky train station, a missing ride that left her stuck in town rather than snuggled into her rented cottage, a truly weird interaction with an attractive man, topped off with an unexpected beer bath.
If she didn’t know any better, she might think something was telling her she wasn’t welcome here.
But that reaction was ridiculous, a cobwebbed remnant of her time with an ex-boyfriend who enjoyed making her feel off-balance and uncomfortable in her own skin.
She hadn’t known how manipulative that bastard John had been until she put some space between them.
These days, she was free and in control of her own fate.
What had happened on her trip so far were minor bumps on the road.
There were much worse things in the world.
And how could she complain, really? She was in the Scottish Highlands, in an adorable pub filled with great music and cheerful people. She was living her dream.
Slicking a little cherry chapstick on her lips and tucking back a few loose strands of hair, she gave an encouraging nod to her reflection and walked out of the bathroom with her head held high.
And straight into a hard, broad chest. Again. “Oh, shit. Sorry,” she said as she bounced back with a wobble.
Strong hands reached out to steady her, the warmth of his grip bleeding through the cotton knit of her sweater. She looked up to see the man who’d smelled her earlier. Still one of the weirder things to ever happen to me, she thought, licking her lips.
His dark eyes followed the path of her tongue as a low growl rumbled in his chest.
Was that supposed to be scary? she wondered. Because if so, he was failing miserably. She liked a bit of gruff growl in a man. It was sexy. “So. We meet again,” she said, giving him a sassy grin.
Holy cow, he really was an incredibly attractive man, even if he only communicated in growls. She supposed she should be intimidated by him or scared, even — again, that smelling thing was not something normal people did — but somehow, she felt safe in his presence. It felt almost like coming home.
Where the hell did that come from? she thought, her heart racing.
The last thing she wanted to do on this trip was get involved with someone, especially considering how well her last relationship had turned out.
And who said it needed to be a relationship, anyway?
Maybe Pippa was right, and what she needed was a good railing by a hot Scotsman.
That was sure to clear away any past relationship woes.
She cleared her throat. “I suppose, considering we’ve literally run into each other twice, introductions might be in order.” Putting some space between them, she stuck out a hand. “I’m Sophie.”
He ignored her introduction and stalked forward, crowding her until her back hit the wall.
Heat rolled off him. A wave of goosebumps prickled over his skin at the constant, low rumble coming from him.
He leaned closer. Instinctively, she put her hands on his chest. Good lord, there was absolutely no give to the muscles beneath her palms.
With a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her head up. The scent of crisp, green grass and rich bergamot surrounded her.
Her eyes flickered to his mouth and back up to his dark eyes then back down to his mouth.
Should I? Her fingers twisted in the soft fabric of his shirt.
He had her caged up against the wall, but she somehow knew that if she voiced one word of protest or asked him to back off, he would.
She didn’t know how she knew that, she just did.
Giving in to what she would later claim to be vacation-fueled impulsiveness, she popped up on her toes and brushed her lips across his.
At her gentle kiss, the rumble in his chest morphed into a full-blown growl as he wrapped his hand around her nape and hauled her up against him.
His tongue licked the seam of her lips, demanding she open for him.
She answered with enthusiasm. Her tongue met his, an explosion of connection making her entire body tingle.
A soft moan escaped her as she ran her hands over his broad shoulders and into his thick hair, raking her short nails across his skull.
Holy shit. This man is so in the running as the best kisser in the entirety of Scotland, she thought as he banded an arm around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he devoured her mouth.
His knee slid between her legs, his thick thigh pressing the seam of her jeans against her clit as his tongue stroked over hers.
Liquid heat pooled in her belly as her entire body burst into flames.
If they kept this up much longer, she was going to come right here in this dark hallway without even knowing the man’s name.
That shocked her back to her senses, and she gave his chest a light shove. He raised his head, his tight grip on her loosening.
“I…,” she said. She drew in a shaky breath, patting his right pectoral. “Wow, but…”
He ducked his head, acknowledging her change of heart and accepting it without a word.
Guess he’s the strong but silent type. She bit back a grin.
With infinite care, he traced a finger across her cheek, his thumb brushing over her swollen lips. His lips grazed her forehead, and then he was gone, out the back door at the end of the corridor, and into the night.
She clutched her throat and leaned back against the wall, trying to catch her breath. What in the hell just happened? she thought.
She’d kissed a complete stranger, that’s what, and he’d just about set her panties on fire. Well, this vacation was certainly looking up.
Taking a deep breath,, she pushed off the wall and returned to the pub’s crowded main room for another drink.
“The cottage is perfect, Bryn,” Sophie said, giving the younger woman a big grin.
From its thick thatched roof and stone exterior to the cozy living room with a giant fireplace, a tiny kitchen that had everything she needed, and the stairwell with a low overhead that she was sure to smash her head against at least once during her stay, the cottage was charming to its core.
Perfect for her quiet, peaceful, solo stay.
From her position by the front door, Bryn texted on her phone as Sophie explored the cottage.
The young woman was cute, like a goth pixie.
Her black hair was twisted up in messy space buns.
Dark liner winged out from the corner of her eyes, and her dark red lipstick emphasized milky pale skin.
A tattered black Nine Inch Nails t-shirt slid off one shoulder, leaving a red silk bra strap visible.
Her artfully torn black jeans were tucked into a tall pair of muddy Wellington boots.
“Reminds me a bit of that place in that movie where they switch houses.” And fall in love, her ever-hopeful romantic side added. “Do you know it?”
Bryn shook her head, eyes on her phone.
Of course she wasn’t. With dewy, glowing skin like that, Bryn couldn’t be more than eighteen.
Did her generation even watch movies, or was it all short videos and texting?
Sophie had no idea. She didn’t have kids, and though she had a niece and a nephew, they were hours away up in Chicago.
She saw them maybe once a year, but heard all about their shenanigans when she talked to her sister.
Her brows drew together. Speaking of shenanigans… Pippa had rented this cottage from Bryn, and she was the only person either of them had ever had any contact with. Cocking her head, she gave her a long look. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Lifting her chin, she said, “Seventeen.”
“And this cottage, it’s yours?”
Bryn stood a little straighter in the doorway and tucked her phone into her back pocket. “My family’s, yes.”
“And they know that you’re renting this out to me?” she asked, voicing the question that had been niggling at her since the girl picked her up this morning.
“Um…” She nibbled her bottom lip. Impressively, her lipstick didn’t budge. “Not exactly. But you’re totally fine staying here, I promise. It’s not like anyone was using the cottage, and I needed the money.”
Well, shit, she thought, her heart sinking. Despite Bryn’s reassurances, she guessed she’d have to find another place to stay sooner than she’d expected.
“What do you need the money for, Bryn?” a man asked as he rounded the corner.
Sophie sucked in a breath as the man from the pub walked into her house. He was the last person she expected to see. Though, considering this town was smaller than her hometown, not an improbable event. But what the hell was he doing here?
Bryn whirled on him. “None of your business.”
“Oh, you’re very mistaken about that, young lady,” he growled. “Tell me what you’ve been up to, and why there’s a human in your great-gran’s cottage.”
Man, how is it that a Scottish accent is even better when the speaker is all growly and irritated? she thought, a shiver of heat gliding down her spine. Wait. Did he just call me human?
Then she remembered Gail had mentioned wolf shifters at the castle, which would explain all the looming and growling. The bear shifters who lived in her area could be rather growly at times, too. Maybe it was a shifter thing.
“Stop it, Dad.” The teenager stamped her foot. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Dad?” Sophie squeaked. Now, that was even more unexpected than the shifter reveal. She would have bet money he was a loner who lived somewhere high in the mountains, as far from people and civilization as possible. But it seemed he’d somehow charmed a woman long enough to get her with child. Huh.
“Yes,” Bryn’s dad said, turning his glower on her, his black brows drawn together like thunderclouds over dark hazel eyes. A shiver ran down her spine. “Torin Matheson, Alpha of the Wolfcraig pack, owner of the cottage you’re standing in, and laird of the land you’re trespassing on.”