5. Sydney
“ W ho peed in his Cheerios?” I murmur, head swiveling toward Wren.
Her lips tick down into a frown. Dark brows drop low over her eyes as they track Reese’s bulky form stalking up the hill.
I mean, the man is fine, total Daddy vibes, but his attitude could use some major adjusting.
When I first bumped into him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Reese Moore is right here in Minnesota… and he’s a shifter. His handsome face was on the front of magazines everywhere when I was younger.
And he’s even more attractive in person. He’s tall, over a foot taller than me; I barely came up to his broad chest. But most people are taller than my short ass.
Not that I’m complaining. The man also has muscle for days. Bulging biceps and massive pecs straining against the thin fabric of his gray t-shirt.
I managed to roll my tongue back into my mouth while sneaking a glimpse of his ruggedly handsome face. A jaw sharp enough to cut glass coated in thick black stubble I’d love to run my fingers through. And, did I mention, the dark endless pools of brown that had my skin scorching like someone stuck me in an oven and hit bake. Then he ruined everything by opening his rude mouth.
Black hair curled over his forehead, longer on top and shorter on the sides, which were peppered with strands of gray.
I didn’t miss the way his eyes heated when he looked down at me, but something changed when I mentioned his past. He shut down, his face morphing into a blank canvas.
He withdrew even further when Wren showed up and introduced me as her sister. What the fuck was that all about?
“Is he always so… charming?” I glance at Wren again, who is gnawing at her bottom lip.
“Reese can be a little prickly at first. But I’ve never seen him dismiss someone quite like that.” Her forehead creases as she stares at the now empty gravel roadway, like Reese will materialize and apologize.
“Great. So it must be me.” I twirl the ends of my braid around my fingers. A nervous habit I’ve been trying to break. Releasing the hair, I let my hand dangle limply by my side instead.
“Give him some time. He’ll warm up to you,” she says with a weak smile, linking her arm through mine again and leading me through the greenhouse door. “Reese is the alpha. It’s his job to provide for everyone in Cypress Valley. I can imagine he’s under a lot of stress. Especially after everything that happened with Chris.”
“Sounds like he could use a little fun to take his mind off everything,” I offer. What he really needs is someone to remove the stick from his ass, but I keep that thought to myself. “Did you know he was famous?” My heart flutters with excitement.
She shakes her head. “No. I didn’t spend my tween years reading tabloids at the grocery store checkout like you, Syd.”
She’s not wrong.
“How the hell did he end up here—in the middle of nowhere?”
Wren shrugs. “I don’t know much about his past, besides the fact he has a lot of money. He mostly keeps to himself, so good luck dragging him away from work or his cabin.”
“Challenge accepted.” A wicked smile lights up my face, the devil on my shoulder whispering naughty things in my ear. Yep, sounds like a perfect job for Sydney Fields. Some unexplainable force makes me want to be around Reese more, plus I have nothing else to fill my time here. Why not bother the grumpy alpha bear?
My mission for the next month is to get so far under Reese Moore’s skin he doesn’t know where he ends and I start.
The door slams shut behind me, drawing my attention back to the present.
“Wow!” I whisper, glancing around the large greenhouse. Rows and rows of plants fill the humid space. The ceiling and walls are made of clear glass, letting the glorious rays of sunshine through to warm the whole area.
Wren giggles, pulling me toward another giant, handsome man. A stainless steel watering can is clutched in his hands. He meticulously pours water over a plant, sticking a finger in the soil every so often. With a satisfied nod, he moves on to the next plant .
He’s the epitome of the classic bad boy from every romance movie of my youth. Shoulder-length brown hair thrown haphazardly into a messy bun. Black and gray ink coating every inch of visible tan skin.
“Come on, Syd. I want you to meet Tyler.” Wren tugs me down the rows of plants until we stand in front of the tattooed man.
“Hey, hot stuff,” a deep voice greets. “And you brought a friend.”
Forest green eyes, filled with all kinds of mischief, glitter down at me. His full lips pull into a smirk, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth.
Wren’s small fist knocks against his massive chest, pulling a small oomph from his grinning mouth.
“Knock it off, Ty. This is my baby sister, Sydney.” She waves a hand toward me. I awkwardly raise my hand in acknowledgement.
“Enchanté.” Gripping my raised hand, he brings it to his lips. Never breaking eye contact, he places a chaste kiss on my knuckles. Heat rises on my cheeks, spreading down to my chest.
A throat clearing pulls our attention to Wren. Arms crossed over her chest, she huffs a laugh. “Seriously, Ty. You’re flirting with my little sister?”
“I flirt with everyone,” he teases, winking at me before letting my hand fall down to my side.
Wren snatches the watering can from his tattooed hands, continuing down the row of plants where Tyler left off.
“Well, that wasn’t fucking awkward,” I drawl, sending both of them into a fit of laughter .
Tyler flashes me a broad smile before wrapping his free arm around me. It’s a comforting gesture, the heat from his massive frame curling around me. I find myself instantly liking this big shifter and wanting to be around him more. “One thing you should know about me: I’m a shameless flirt, and I don’t take things too seriously.”
“That’s two things,” I point out, playfully poking him in the ribs.
He chuckles, releasing me from his grasp and following Wren. “Oh, I like you. Come on, let me show you around.”
A few hours later, Wren and Tyler have walked me down every row in the greenhouse, bragging about how well the herbs and berries are growing this season.
Outside, the fields are planted with corn, beans, and other crops. They managed to replace everything Chris burned, and then some.
My sister has really stepped up in her time here, pitching in and learning as much as possible from Tyler. It’s truly amazing how much food they’re able to grow to sustain the small community.
As we wander the rows of plants, he continues to flirt with me and Wren. She brushes him off, threatening to tell Kiernan. But they’re empty threats. The two are clearly close friends, playfully shoving and poking each other.
My heart warms at the sight of my sister in an environment that makes her happy, surrounded by people who care about her.
“Gardner. You want to lose that hand?” A deep, growling voice rumbles from the door of the greenhouse .
Tyler quickly pulls his hand away from Wren’s shoulder as Kiernan barrels toward them. Burying his hand in Wren’s dark waves, Kiernan pulls her mouth to his. Devouring her in a heated kiss that has me averting my eyes as my cheeks redden. Suddenly, my shoelaces are very interesting.
A wolf whistle breaks the silence. My head pops up in time to see Tyler fanning himself.
“Hoo-wee, is it hot in here, or is it just me?” He waggles his brows at me.
“Shut it, Ty.” Kiernan punches a laughing Tyler in the shoulder.
Wren turns to me, mouthing a sorry before threading her fingers through Kiernan’s.
“Are you ladies ready to head home?”
I nod, following behind the happy couple, tossing a wave and a wink over my shoulder at Tyler.
“See you tomorrow, sweetheart,” he says, face splitting into that damn flirty smirk.
D éjà-fucking-vu. My sister’s moans float into the living room for the second night in a row. Clearly, her promise to abstain or be quieter tonight flew out the window, along with any hope of me sleeping .
Switching on the lamp on the wooden end table, I grab my sketchpad and pencil. The golden glow provides just enough light to illuminate my pencil lines.
“I wish I had my headphones,” I murmur to myself. But I’m almost positive I left them in the center console of my car and I’m way too chickenshit to go outside at night.
At that moment, an owl hoots ominously outside. I shiver… who knows what kind of wild animals are in these woods?
Focusing on the symphony of crickets chirping outside the window, I let my pencil glide across the paper. Pretty soon, lines, strokes, and swirls have formed into a recognizable face. Reese-fucking-Moore.
Letting out a frustrated growl, I chuck my pencil onto the couch next to me. Why is my subconscious stuck on the big, grumpy alpha bear? Yes, he’s gorgeous, but the way he totally dismissed me today was uncalled for. Plus, he’s too old for me.
My thighs clench as I remember the gray streaks that littered his temples and beard. Moisture dampens my panties just imagining those endless black eyes lingering on my skin as he pounds into me. Okay, maybe I’m into the Daddy vibe.
He called me angel . Only one time, but I trust my ears. I know what they heard. My body sang as the pet name spilled from his full lips, lighting up like a Christmas tree on a cold December night.
I’ve dated a few guys since highschool, but I’ve never had this instant, all-consuming attraction like I have for Reese. And, honestly, it was always an inconvenience to fit dating in around my busy work schedule. Each kiss and touch from any prospective suitor felt lackluster and not worth the effort… so I stopped trying, content to be alone.
Picking up my discarded pencil, I give in to the mysterious thread pulling me toward him and continue sketching, adding the thick lines of Reese’s neck. My pencil drifts down the paper to draw his broad, boulder shoulders and straining biceps. I’m surprised his t-shirt was able to contain all the hard plains of muscle this afternoon. One wrong move and I bet the thin cotton would have torn, exposing smooth tan skin.
“Ugh. Stop fantasizing about him. He was an absolute jerk,” I scold, voice barely above a whisper.
Once Wren announced my name, tension radiated off his body in thick waves. His jaw clenched so hard, it’s a wonder he didn’t break any of his straight, pearly white teeth. And that vein in his forehead. I couldn’t help but watch it pulse as he tried not to breathe.
It’s like a switch flipped as soon as he found out I’m related to Wren. What the hell is that all about?
My eyes grow heavy, my pencil strokes getting less and less precise. The air is quiet, apart from my cricket friends. Maybe the lovebirds are done fucking for the night… wishful thinking.
Making sure to close the cover of my sketchpad, I place it on the end table, pencil tucked gently in the spiral binding. I don’t need anyone seeing my sketches of a certain grumpy bear.
Fluffing the pillow a few times, I lay down on my side, pulling the soft blanket up over my shoulders. Releasing a long sigh, I close my eyes and let visions of obsidian eyes and a baritone voice growling out the word angel lull me into a deep sleep.