Chapter Three
Moira was good and angry by the end of the ATV trail ride. Why? Because Cam was all confidence, and sex appeal, and quick wit, and he was messing with her head.
Today was supposed to be quiet and focused on self-care, and here he was, this demigod of a predator shifter, working her.
That’s what this was, right? He was messing with her. That’s what hot guys did. It had happened to her in high school, and it was happening all over again now.
She was the butt of some joke she didn’t understand.
He was up ahead near the cabin, pointing to an open spot in the row of ATVs in the snow.
She sped up and he held his hands out and said, “Moira, stop!”
And she did. At the last possible second, she braked hard and spun the ATV, spewing a rooster tail of snow onto Cam-The-Annoying.
“I meant for you to park it here,” he gritted out.
“Well, that will teach you to tell me what to do.” She turned off the little engine and tossed him the key. “Park it yourself.”
She got off the ATV and stomped away.
“Why the hell are you mad at me?” Cam asked, following her.
“Because I don’t like when boys mess with my head.”
“How am I messing with your head?” he barked out, kicking up to a jog. She could hear his quickening footsteps crunching against the snow.
“Forget me,” she said over her shoulder.
“Okay,” he said, confused. “Do you want your receipt?”
“My receipt?” she asked, rounding on him. “Of course you’ll pretend you didn’t ask me out.”
“I’m not pretending, I’m trying to keep up with your fuckin’ thirty personalities.”
“I’m steady on who I am!” she yelled.
“Just straight mean?”
She crossed her arms. “I know this is some kind of joke.”
He frowned and pulled his sunglasses off his face. “I can’t keep up with you.”
“You asked me out. Me. Come on. What’s the game?
Get my head all twisted around? Bring me to your nephew’s game so you can make fun of me with your sister?
Bring me to that bar with your friends tonight so I can be mean to them and then you fuck me, and then you brag about bagging a rude one?
Or maybe you won’t show up at six at all.
You’ll twist up my head all day and then I’ll get all pretty and do my hair and get excited and wait out in front of my cabin and you’ll never show, and it’ll somehow be a worse Valentine’s Day than all the others. ”
He was just staring at her with his hands on his hips, and a baffled look in his too bright gold eyes. “You came up with all this while you were riding through some of the most beautiful scenery in the world?”
“Yeah, you ruined it!”
He blinked slowly and turned around, walked away a few paces, throwing his hands in the air. “I won’t mess with you anymore.” His voice was deep and gravelly.
“Good,” she threw out, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You know what? Fuck that,” he said, rounding on her.
“You came up with all these ways that I’m somehow a bad dude, or I have ulterior motives, and that’s not fuckin’ fair.
You don’t know me. I was upfront. I won’t get attached.
I can’t. I find you interesting. I wanted to hang with you tonight to get to know you, and that’s what it really is.
That’s all. No one is making fun of you.
You know what my sister would say if she met you?
That you’re too good for me and tell me not to fuck it up.
My friends? They’ll warn you off of me and then give me shit when I mess it up. ”
“You’re cussing a lot.”
“I don’t care. This is me, Moira. This is what it is.
You,” he said, jamming a finger at her, “Do not get to make up theories and stories about who I am. I’m simple.
I live here,” he said, gesturing to a cabin behind the check-in hut.
“I cuss when I want to, I go into town when I’m lonely, and I focus on my career here.
I’ve been carving this ATV tour business out of nothing, and I’m doing it as a shifter.
I work my ass off, I ask nothing of anyone, and I don’t mess with women’s heads like you’re accusing me of.
I’m comfortable stating what a mess I am upfront.
It’s not a game. It’s honesty. Forget I asked you.
It was a mistake.” He stormed past her, shaking his head.
Moira parted her lips to spew some vitriol his way, but no words came out. What he’d said was fair and she felt…well, she felt stupid for overthinking his invitation.
“Someone did that to me in high school.”
He turned, and whooo he looked angry. His eyes were straight molten gold now and his face was sharper. He even looked bigger than he had a few moments ago.
“Did what?” he barked out.
“They took a bet that they could get me, and he was really nice to me, and the second I gave in and was nice back to him, he took the money he’d won from his bet, and everyone made fun of me, and then…then...” She swallowed hard. “You know what? Forget it. This is all pointless.”
She took her turn stomping past him now, but he gripped her arm and yanked her around.
The moment his lips crashed onto hers, Moira was shocked into stillness.
She didn’t even close her eyes. The breath was stolen from her lungs as the heaviness of his dominance consumed her.
The kiss was fast, and hard, and half-violent.
His hand went to the back of her neck and held her trapped in place.
Moira this morning would’ve kicked him in the ball sack, but Moira now? She gripped his sweater in her fist and didn’t want the kiss to end.
His jaw moved as he pushed his tongue past her lips and kissed her deeper.
And just as fast as he’d started this fire, he ended the kiss and yanked her hand from his shirt, then made his way around the check-in hut to the cabin out back. A few moments later, the slamming of the front door made Moira jump.
“Well, that was weird,” Birdie offered unhelpfully from where she and Lance were standing way too close to her.
“Do you just wake up hoping to piss people off every day?” Lance asked. His frown was annoying.
“I don’t know if he was angry,” Birdie speculated. “He sure put a lot into that kiss.”
“Why are either of you talking to me?” Moira demanded.
And then Birdie did something horrifying. She marched right up to Moira and hugged her.
Hugged.
Her.
With her arms. With her body. Hugged her.
Moira swallowed a gag and held her arms out straight like a starfish. “Get her off me,” she gritted out to Lance.
“No. This is probably good for you, you friggin’ gremlin.”
“I’m sorry,” Birdie whispered, smushing her cheek against Moira’s.
“For what?” she asked, trying to back out of this weird embrace.
Birdie hugged her tighter. “For whatever happened in high school. Screw those guys who hurt you.”
“It was just one guy and I’m fine. Please unhand me.”
“Just a hamster and a cat, falling into friendship—”
“Ew, stop!” Moira gritted out, pushing out of the hug. “I’m walking back to the Woodpecker Inn.”
“It’s like ten miles away,” Birdie said after her.
“The walk will do me good.”
“Girl code says I can’t leave you behind. You just pissed off a bear shifter and look around, Moira. There is no one around here to get you out of a bad situation.”
“I would rather be chased by a hot bear shifter than sit in the same shuttle as a ro-o-o…” She shuttered and tried to say it again. “A rah-rod-reh…” She gagged.
“Really?” Birdie asked.
“A rooo—” A shudder consumed her shoulders. “Rodent,” she choked out.
“You’re really dramatic,” Lance muttered from where he’d stepped around the check-in hut to look at the cabin beyond. “Should I check on him? I feel bad for him.”
“Why?” Moira asked.
“Because you don’t understand how baiting you are. He probably hated that moment. If I got pushed into losing my temper by a stranger? I’d be so mad.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Well, you’re a woman. It’s different for a man. And clearly, he liked you. He asked you out, God knows why. He’s probably beating himself up right now. You did that. You get to people. What is it?” Lance asked. “Is it a rush to make someone angry? To ruin their day?”
Moira had gone quiet. She wanted to pop back at him and hurt him for judging her, but dang it all, Lance was right. She did cling to her walls, and she did enjoy keeping people away from her. Everything was easier from a distance.
“You should apologize,” Lance said. The audacity of this human. “It’s the right thing to do,” he said softer.
She stood there frozen, her mind spinning over what had just happened. He’d kissed her. He’d kissed her well. He’d given her the hottest mini-make-out session she’d ever been a part of, and he’d done it angry.
That was kind of hot.
Lance started walking toward the cabin.
“What are you doing?” Moira asked.
“Apologizing for you.”
She bolted for him and shoved him into a snowbank. “I don’t need you to apologize for me. I can do it myself.”
She felt confident until she reached his front porch.
It was adorned with two navy blue Adirondack chairs covered in a foot of snow, a storage bin that had been left open, and his snow boots were thrown in there.
The other shoes in the bin were organized in neat rows.
A perfect trail had been shoveled through the snow from the stairs to the front door, and when she lifted her mitten-clad hand to knock, she hesitated.
What if he was still mad?
“Come in,” a tired, growling voice called out.
Slowly, she twisted the door handle and opened it.
He was standing with his back to her, his arms locked on the kitchen counter across the room.
His cabin was nice, and everything was put in its place. It was the cleanest bachelor pad she’d ever seen. It had vaulted ceilings and exposed rafter beams, and a hanging chandelier near the stone fireplace that was made of moose antlers.
“Hi,” she said softly.
Cam blew out a steadying breath and turned around, rested his back against the counter and crossed his arms. He didn’t wear a jacket right now, and his muscles looked even bigger in his shirt now. That fine man was diced.
She parted her lips to say she was sorry, but he beat her to it. “I’m sorry I kissed you.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the ground.
Moira pursed her lips and swallowed hard. “Lodge Five. I’ll be ready at six.”
His eyes darted up to her, and she could see the acute shock there.
She turned and pulled the door closed, but he drawled out, “Wait. Come here. Do the apology right.”
Moira hesitated and then kicked out of her boots and padded across the living room to the kitchen and stood in front of him awkwardly. “I’m sorry I misjudged you and baited you.”
She dared a look up at him and his nostrils flared with his deep inhalation.
He didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Slowly, giving her time to back away, he reached for her hip and pulled her closer.
He hugged her for three seconds, then eased her back, gripped her throat gently, and hunger flashed in his eyes.
“It’s been a while since I cared enough to get angry.
You’re going to put me through it, aren’t you? ”
“If you’re lucky,” she murmured, trying to bite back a smile at how good his gentle grasp felt on her throat. Dominant man. She liked it.
He narrowed his blazing gold eyes at her, and then released her throat, pulled her hand up to his lips, pressed a kiss there and then released her again.
Feeling emboldened, Moira eased forward, lifted up on her toes, and pressed a kiss to his throat, then bit him gently there and reveled in the sound of his moan.
“Bye stranger,” she said softly, and let her gaze linger on him a couple seconds more as she walked away.
She dared one last glance at him as she closed his door, and she would commit this to memory for always—Cam, standing tall and strong, leaned against his kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge, dark hair mussed, Adam’s apple prominent as he leaned his chin back and offered a predator’s smile from his masculine lips.
Eyes glowing gold, every cell of his body oozing with the confidence of a man who knew his exact place at the top of the food chain.
And what was a little kitty shifter like her to do?
Be ready at six, because she understood when he’d said he wanted to get to know her.
She wanted to get to know more about him as well.
That man was trouble.
Delicious, undeniable, interesting, hot-as-hell, all-consuming trouble.