Chapter Five
Poppy was grateful for the shower. She felt human again.
She put the clothes on that he’d left on the counter.
A worn pair of joggers, a big t-shirt, flannel, and fuzzy socks.
She hugged herself after dressing, loving that his scent surrounded her.
They must all be his clothes. She felt very cozy as she padded out to the kitchen.
The food smelled delicious, and she breathed in deeply.
He stopped what he was doing, seemingly frozen with a frying pan in his hand. The way he stared at her was unnerving.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He snapped back to the present, giving his head a little shake.
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that my clothes look much better on you than they do on me.”
She smiled, then sat down on a stool by the little butcher-block kitchen island. The house was small, but rustic and homey. She loved it. It felt like she belonged there.
Poppy looked around the house from her vantage point.
Everything was rustic wood, plaid, and furs.
Masculine. There were no signs of a Mrs. Wilder, and that deeply satisfied her.
She hadn’t come to the forest looking for love, but she wasn’t going to push it away if it came calling.
Poppy had accepted the fact she’d be an old maid, cursed to watch other happy couples but never feel that love herself.
Maybe she was meant to come here. Just maybe there was hope for her still.
Her host was incredibly handsome in the most rugged way. The classic strong, silent type, but she knew there was so much more under the surface. He may appear gruff and aloof, but he was kind to animals, gentle in unexpected ways, and the man had saved her life when he didn’t have to.
Wilder set a plate of food down in front of her and handed her a fork.
“Thank you,” she said. “It looks delicious.”
“It’s venison stew and roasted vegetables. I stock portions in the freezer. Nothing from a grocery store around here. While you’re my guest, it’s my job to feed you.”
As she ate, he kept watching her. It felt odd, but she didn’t overthink it.
There was something growing between them and she prayed it wasn’t one-sided.
If they were in the city, he’d be miles out of her league, but here there wasn’t much competition.
They made small talk in-between bites. And it was surprisingly easy to talk to him.
“I’m excited to see your bees,” she said.
“You are? Do you like honey?”
“It’s sweet. What’s not to love?”
He nodded, looking very pleased with her answer. “Do you know what animals love honey?”
She didn’t need to think long. “Bears,” she said proudly. “You’re so far off the grid. Do they try to steal your honey?”
He chuckled. “Definitely not.”
“Interesting. You’re lucky then. Unless I’ve just watched too much movies and bears don’t even like honey.”
“Oh, they definitely like honey.”
She finished her food and felt a lot better, that persistent hunger finally sated. He was a good cook. She never would have tried venison on her own.
Poppy took the dishes to the sink and started to wash them. Wilder stood next to her leaning against the counter and just watched. He didn’t try to stop her which she appreciated since he’d done the cooking.
“I love your house, Wilder. It’s like living in a fairy tale.”
He was quiet again. She saw the powerful muscles in his arm in her peripheral vision.
“I like the way you say my name.”
She swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his words.
As if realizing he’d made her uncomfortable, he stepped back and changed the subject. “I built this house decades ago.”
She took a cleansing breath and wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. As much as she wanted something to spark with Wilder, at thirty-two years old, she was embarrassingly na?ve when it came to men.
“Alone?”
“I’ve been alone since I was very young. I’ve learned to take care of myself. It was either that or give up and die.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. It must be so lonely for him. People were meant to couple off, to find their happily ever after.
“Do you not have any family?”
“Not anymore. It’s just me.” He started walking away, putting an end to the conversation. “I’ll show you the beehives.”
He wasn’t comfortable with the subject and she wouldn’t push him. She wondered what his story was. Why would this hunk of a man leave society to live completely alone out here? Although she could see the appeal in ways, it was unnatural for a person to live so isolated.
She followed him out the back door. The young bear cub was rolling in the grass and weeds. Poppy still felt a bit nervous around him because wild animals could be unpredictable, but Wilder appeared unfazed as he walked past the cub.
“He looks happy,” she said.
“He’ll be safe here until I find him a new home.”
It touched her heart that he cared so much about wildlife. He’d go out of his way to help animals when he didn’t have to. In such a selfish world, it was refreshing.
“Wow, there’re so many.” She walked around the neatly arranged wooden beehives. “Can I get my camera?”
He shrugged, and she quickly ran back to the house to grab her camera.
“So, you do like your job?” he asked when she returned.
“No, not my job. But I love being a photographer. There’s something magical about getting that perfect shot, of capturing a moment in time. Like right now, I want to remember this forever.”
She took close-up photos of the bees as he pulled up a frame. It was amazing. What surprised her was how the bees would land on his forearm but none of them bit him.
He explained step by step the process of keeping bees. She was completely invested, loving his passion in living out here at the end of the world.
“I thought beekeepers used smoke to calm them?” she asked.
“We have an understanding.” He winked at her and her heart did a little flutter.
He removed a chunk of honeycomb, the honey dripping off it as he came to show her.
She was absolutely mesmerized by all these new experiences.
Without a second thought she leaned over and took at bite off the opposite end of the comb he was holding, the sweet taste flooding her senses. So fresh, so delicious.
Wilder reached out with his other hand to clean some dripping honey from the corner of her mouth. She felt like a child all over again. When he brought his finger back to his own mouth, sucking off the leftover honey, she felt her entire body light up with heat.
Did he feel it too? Were his eyes always that dark?
She licked her lips and he followed the movement of her tongue.
“I never knew bees were so interesting,” she said. “And complicated.”
“The reward is worth the effort, no?”
She nodded with a smile, the sweet taste still in her mouth.
****
Wilder didn’t want to agree with his bear. His animal side insisted Poppy was their mate, but his hatred for humans made him fight the idea. He’d already resigned to the idea of living his live alone, unless the rare chance he came across a female bear shifter.
Things were different now. The mating call was strong, and there was no denying it now.
Poppy was perfect. When she had been photographing his hives and bees, he watched her.
Her wonder, passion, and innocence kept him in awe.
It cemented the fact he had to claim her as his mate.
It wasn’t just her lush body, soft blonde hair, and mothering instincts.
It was every detail about her inside and out.
But claiming her would be anything but simple.
She was a human, unaware of the paranormal secrets around her.
If she knew the truth, she’d be terrified, disgusted even.
A woman wouldn’t mate with an animal, especially not one as delectable as her.
She had wide birthing hips and big heavy tits.
A woman like her could handle being fucked and bred.
When she’d taken the honey he’d harvested, all he could think about was pouring it on her naked body and sucking off every drop, slowly, starting with her sweet little cunt. He growled, shaking the distracting thoughts away.
“I think I’m already addicted to your way of life,” she said as he continued giving her a tour of his homestead.
“Then stay,” he said.
She twirled around, hugging his flannel to keep the chill out. “Don’t tempt me.”
But he wasn’t joking in the least. He didn’t want her to leave. He watched her taking in the surroundings, the mighty firs, the eagles soaring above, the scattering of wildflowers. She kept snapping pictures, proving she loved everything he loved.
Fate had chosen well for him. Now he had to figure out how to keep her.
“What are those?” she asked, pointing down a valley to a line along the ground.
“Security lines and trail cameras.”
“Why? Bears and wolves?” she asked.
“Humans.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Way out here? Why the security? What would they do?”
“There are a lot of dangers out here, none of them from bears or wolves. I can never let my guard down.”
“Is it the poachers?”
“It’s not just the men after you. It’s been a problem for as long as I can remember. Humans are cruel and dangerous. They take what they don’t need and leave a trail of suffering behind them.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you.”
“If they know you have their photos, they won’t stop looking for you.”
She squatted down, covering her face with her hands. On instinct, he got to one knee, pulling one wrist away. “What’s the matter?”
“I didn’t want to say anything but I lost my wallet on the hike, either before or after I met you, I have no clue.” She sniffled, her eyes filling with tears. “If they find it, they’ll know my name, where I live, where I shop, everything.”
Those hunters likely had her belongings. They lived for the hunt, and something like a wallet would stand out. He used the opportunity to his advantage.
“You’ll stay here. With me. I can protect you.”
“Forever?” She stood back up, waving a hand across the land. “They’ll give up eventually, right? Maybe they’ll think I died. I could have fallen off a cliff or gotten killed by a pack of wolves.”
“They’re relentless.”
“Really, Wilder? That’s not what I need to hear.”
“It’s just the truth. Remember I told you I’ve been out here since I was a boy?”
She nodded.
He was going to tell her something nobody knew. A dark past that still haunted his nightmares. “Poachers murdered my parents and left me for dead.”
“What? How is that possible?” She started to back up, nearly tripping. Panic marring her features. “Killed? What do you mean they killed your parents?”
A poacher had come looking for grizzly bears to sell their body parts on the black market for unbelievably high prices.
His parents had fought to protect him in their fur, but they were no match for the firepower the poachers carried with them.
He still remembered the weight of their still-warm bodies over him as he attempted to wiggle free.
When he ran off to the tree line, they shot him in the side, but he kept running, ignoring the pain until he was miles away.
He’d learned to survive, and eventually to thrive alone in the wilderness. His father had been an alpha grizzly shifter on their sacred shifter land, and now it had passed on to him. All the animals of the forest respected his rank—if they didn’t, he reminded them why he was king of this forest.
“Nearly killed me too.” He lifted up his t-shirt, showing her the gnarly scar on his side where the wound had healed so many decades ago.
Her mouth fell agape, and she stepped closer, running her fingertips ever so gently over the white scar. “Wilder. Oh my God. They’re going to kill me too.”
“I’ll never let that happen. I promise you that.”