7. Sydney
“ W hat the fuck just happened?” I mutter, still standing there dumbfounded, with a book in my hand. Absolutely dumbfounded.
Reese Moore is the grumpiest motherfucker I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Flopping back onto the mattress, I let out a groan as the material hugs my body. Closing my eyes, I wrack my brain for what I could have possibly done in the last twenty-four hours to make Reese hate me.
And there’s the weird feeling I got when he touched me. It happened twice. Twice . When our hands touched while picking up my suitcase. And, just now, when his large hand covered mine on his chest.
Both times, fire licked up my veins, burning me from the inside. It wasn’t painful. On the contrary, it was almost comforting… and addicting. My skin tingles with anticipation.
The way my body is drawn to his is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. My brain recalls the conversation I had with Wren about how one touch between fated mates can have your whole body lighting up.
When Reese touches me, I light up like fireworks on the fucking Fourth of July!
Am I Reese’s fated mate?
No, I can’t be.
I’m imagining things… manifesting what Wren has, but I’ll never have. I’ve only been around him for a short time; it’s just a stupid crush.
Shaking my head, I press my thumbs into my temples, rubbing away the frustration.
Whatever is happening between us… I want more.
Reese’s heavy footsteps fade down the stairs, the garage door slamming a few seconds later. I jump slightly at the sound before sinking back into the soothing embrace of this amazing mattress. Letting out a sigh, I decide to leave Reese to stew for the rest of the day.
Sitting up, I scoot myself to the edge of the massive bed, swinging my short legs over the side. The tips of my toes skim the carpet as I get comfortable. I’ve always been short, but this monstrosity of a bed has me feeling like a child crawling into their parents’ bed.
The dark wood is beautiful. I hop to the floor, running my hand up the post at the foot of the bed. Intricate vines and flowers are carved into the grain. It looks handmade, and by someone with immense talent.
Twirling the end of my braid around my fingers, I wander to the floor-to-ceiling windows next to the bed. The bedroom must be on the back of the house because stretched out as far as I can see are massive pine trees.
A cardinal flits among the branches as I rest my forehead against the cool glass. I need to figure out a way to get on Reese’s good side.
If he has one.
I’m a people pleaser through and through. The thought of Reese not liking me has my stomach twisting into a pretzel.
How can I butter him up enough to claw my way under his thick exterior? Mr. Grumpy Bear won’t even have a normal conversation with me, so I’ll have to resort to ulterior motives. An idea sparks in my mind. Everyone loves food, right?
There are so many recipes floating around my brain from my years at the diner, I’ll have no problem sweetening Reese’s mood until he lets me in.
Huffing a laugh, I drag my eyes away from the song-bird outside and start unpacking. At least he’s easy on the eyes.
The man is fine as hell, but needs a personality transplant.
Grabbing the toiletry bag out of my open suitcase, I make my way to the bathroom, humming some Miley Cyrus under my breath. My jaw hits the floor when I flick on the light switch. Not that I need it with all the natural light streaming through another set of floor-to-ceiling windows.
An enormous freestanding tub sits in front of the windows. My mind conjures images of the tub brimming with hot water and bubbles, almost to the point of overflowing. A glass of wine in hand, soft music playing, and the sunset painting the sky outside.
“Mmm, the perfect evening. Maybe Grumpy Bear will join me.” I giggle, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. Thoughts of a relaxing soak in the tub turn steamy as I imagine Reese’s massive body nestled among the bubbles. His skin, damp from the bath water, muscles rippling in his chest and arms as I ride him, my head thrown back in ecstasy.
Tendrils of desire swirl through my body, heating my skin. A deep ache settles in between my thighs. No man has ever consumed my thoughts like Reese.
“Oh-kay, mind out of the gutter, Syd,” I reprimand, tossing the toiletry bag on the white marble counter before leaving the bathroom. “Yes, he’s hot as sin, but he can’t even stand to be in the same room as you.”
I spend the rest of the morning unpacking my clothes and snooping around the guest bedroom. Reese has an extensive collection of books, everything from autobiographies to science fiction.
I even spot one or two romance novels. Although, I can’t picture burly lumberjack Reese Moore reading a bodice ripper. A giggle slips from my mouth at the image as I head down the stairs to find some lunch.
“ A nd the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.” I shake my hips to the beat, singing along with Taylor Swift as her voice blares from my phone. The coffee maker hisses to life in the background. Shuffling to the cupboard on my bare feet, I grab a plain brown mug for the third day in a row. Ugh, so boring .
“Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.” Slotting the mug under the coffeemaker, I place in a coffee pod and hit the brew button.
Spinning on my toes, I hold my fist up like a microphone and belt out the lyrics.
“I shake it off, I shake it off.”
A loud, high-pitched whirring cuts in, and I scream, heart galloping inside my chest. I whip my head around. “What the hell?”
The noise stops, so I focus on making my coffee. “I’m overreacting. It was probably a normal household noise from the water heater or air conditioner or…”
The whirring starts up again. I grab my mug of fresh, steaming coffee—because coffee is life, duh—and go in search of the noise.
On the other side of the kitchen, my eyes catch on a door cracked open. The whirring sound gets louder as I approach, light spilling through the slight opening. I haven’t explored enough to know what’s behind this door.
The sound stops, but something clatters to the ground, causing me to jump. My heart picks up speed, my mind wandering to the worst possible scenario. Did someone break into the house?
You’re overreacting, Syd. It’s probably just Reese. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I creep closer .
Every morning, I’ve woken up in my enormous bed and Reese has been gone by the time I come downstairs, not returning until after dinner each night. I have no freaking idea where he goes or what he does.
Another clatter sounds from behind the door, then that damn whirring starts up again.
Using my pointer finger, I slowly push the door open wider. Poking my head through the opening, I peer inside the room.
Cement flooring stretches out as my eyes trail upward. It’s a garage, but it’s been turned into a wood shop. A workbench sits next to the door. Equipment lines the back wall, leaving the center of the room open for a table and chairs.
My mouth drops open when I spot Reese bent over a table saw. Snapping it shut, saliva pools on my tongue, eyes trailing from his broad shoulders, over the flexing muscles in his back, down to the taper of his waist. The fabric of his t-shirt strains with each movement of his arms.
Glancing further south, his ass looks exquisite; the two globes of muscle encased in tight, dark denim. I want to sink my teeth into them like I would a ripe, juicy peach.
Snickering to myself, I brace my shoulder against the doorframe, admiring the view. Blowing gently on the surface of my coffee, the aromatic dark liquid ripples with my breath. I take my first sip of the day, humming as the warm liquid hits my tongue.
The whir of the table saw cuts off, a piece of wood clattering to the floor while Reese holds the other piece in his giant hands.
I still can’t get over how big he is—truly—larger than life. By comparison, he dwarfs me and makes me feel small, fragile even. Judging by the moisture pooling between my legs and the heat whirling in my veins, the size difference seems to be a turn on for me.
A wicked smirk pulls across my lips as my mind flashes back to yesterday in the laundry room. I was switching another load of damp clothes to the dryer, wrapped only in a towel, when Reese had stumbled into the small space. His mouth gaped open and closed like he was stunned into silence as he searched for words. Dark eyes flashed from my bare shoulders to the hem of my towel, where it barely covered my throbbing pussy. One flick of the wrist and I could have been completely bare before him. I knew he’d come in search of his work boots, which I’d conveniently stashed by the dryer.
“Sorry, um. My boots.” I had shivered at the dark timbre of his voice. His chest brushed against mine as he tried, and failed, to slide past me. I puffed my towel-covered breasts out a little further, basking in the ounce of contact with his large, warm body.
All too soon, he snatched his boots from the floor and high-tailed it out of the room, leaving me in the remnants of his fresh pine scent.
At every possible turn, I’ve invaded his space from purposely brushing too close in the narrow hallways to accidentally barging into his bathroom in search of toothpaste… while he’s in the shower. But I need to be near him like I need my next breath.
My heart rate picks up any time he’s near. My skin blazes as butterflies soar in my stomach and I get so tongue tied I can barely speak.
It’s just a crush , I remind myself as my gaze lingers on the grumpy giant. Reese takes a small pencil from behind his ear, marking something on the piece of wood.
He’s wearing safety glasses over his dark eyes, the clear lenses somehow making him appear even sexier.
Taking another sip of my coffee, an involuntary moan slips out. Reese’s head snaps to the doorway, obsidian eyes burning into my exposed flesh.
I look down at my body, realizing there’s a lot of exposed flesh.
I was in such need of a caffeine fix this morning that I stumbled down the stairs in my pajamas. My very minimal pajamas: a cropped white cami clings to my heaving chest, stretching taut against my small breasts with each breath. My nipples harden to points under Reese’s attention.
The bottom half of my flat stomach and my belly button are exposed above the hem of my tiny plaid sleep shorts. So short they barely cover my ass cheeks.
Oops .
Reese’s eyes give my body a slow perusal, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His gaze finally flicks back up to mine, but now it’s blank and lifeless, just like the rest of his face.
He’s so fucking confusing. Heat and interest flash in his eyes one minute, but it’s gone the next, back to his usual cold shell of a human. I get the feeling he’s attracted to me, but then he shuts down. Why is he like this?
“Morning!” I greet, my voice sweet and pleasant. I raise my coffee cup in greeting .
“Can I help you?” he asks dryly. Alright, he’s grumpy this morning.
“Oh. No. I heard a noise when I was in the kitchen and came to investigate. I had no idea all of this—” I sweep my free hand around the garage, “—was here. You’re into woodworking?”
He shrugs. What the hell?
Rolling my shoulders back, I dare to take a step into the garage. The cool concrete floor hits my feet, a shiver shooting up my spine. Or maybe it’s Reese’s eyes on me, making me shiver.
“You need glasses,” he grunts, pointing to a pile of safety glasses on the workbench. Snatching a pair, I shove them on my face before approaching Reese.
“No,” he barks. My footsteps halt, my body obeying his deep command like it’s second nature—strange.
“What?” I say, glancing around.
“You can’t be in here dressed like that.” Dark eyes sweep down my body, causing heat to claw across my skin. “You’ll get hurt. You need your skin covered and closed-toe shoes.”
“Oh,” I squeak. “What if I stay over here and watch?” I tip my head at the stool tucked under the workbench. It’s right next to the door.
Reese blows out a heavy sigh, muttering something under his breath.
“Look, I don’t like to be watched while I work. I need to concentrate. Focus. If you insist on staying, then you have to be quiet.”
A smile splits my face, pleased that I’ve managed to crack part of that seemingly impenetrable shell .
“I can be quiet,” I promise, rocking onto my toes before pulling the stool out. I plop onto the wooden seat, careful not to spill a drop of my precious coffee.
Reese has already turned back to the wood in his hand, scribbling again with his pencil. The veins flex and twist under his tan skin, drawing my eyes to his muscular forearms. I peek my tongue out, swiping at the drool that pools on the corner of my mouth. Why does he have to be so freaking hot?
He tucks the pencil behind his ear. Sitting at a table across from me, he picks up a wood handled tool.
Methodically, he begins carving off small shavings. The wood shavings curl and fall to the tabletop, accumulating in a small pile. The whole room smells like sawdust and smoke. Combined with the strong coffee scent wafting from my mug, it’s comforting, like a crackling fire on a cold winter night.
My thighs clench as I’m mesmerized by his hands. His fingers are so nimble for such a large man. I wonder what else he can do with those thick fingers. My skin tingles as the fine hairs stand to attention, imagining the rough texture of his palms running over my soft, unblemished skin.
Clearing my throat, I try not to fall down the horny rabbit hole. “What are you making?” I rasp. Taking a sip of coffee, I wet my suddenly dry throat.
His mouth twitches, the slightest smile there and gone in the blink of an eye. “Thought you could be quiet.”
I shrug, swinging my legs. “Guess I lied.”
Those full lips twitch again. My insides turn to goo, knowing I’ve gotten him to smile twice now. Well, almost smile.
“You’re something else, Sydney Fields. ”
“What do you mean?” I ask, his dark gaze meeting mine.
“Nothin’. I’m working on a piece for Adelaide in Oak Ridge. She wanted roses.”
“So you hand carve all the roses?” My mouth drops open in shock. “That’s a lot of work.”
“It is.”
I stand from the stool, setting my coffee mug on the workbench, tiptoeing closer. Reese ignores me, focused on the carving in his hands.
Resting my hip against the table, I peer down at the wood in front of him. Three intricately carved roses rest on the tabletop, a fourth still in progress in his working hands.
“Wow.” Each rose is unique, but no less beautiful. They’re so realistic. Besides being a warm-brown color, you’d never know they were made of wood. Something clicks at that moment and my brows rise. “Wait, did you make the bed frame in the extra bedroom?”
He nods, eyes never leaving his work, hands never stopping.
“It’s really beautiful, Reese. You’re very talented,” I murmur, voice softening with awe. “The flowers on the bed frame are different, though.” I tap a finger on my chin. “They’re—”
“Gardenias.” He sighs, looking up at me again. His dark eyes smolder, searing into mine. His cold exterior melting away. I swallow down the lump in my throat, unable to break his gaze.
“Why gardenias?” I whisper. As if pulled by an invisible thread, I lean closer to him.
“Ask me something else,” Reese murmurs, shaking his head.
Swallowing again, I decide not to push him. He shared his art with me today, which is big for an artist. I should know, I haven’t shared my art with anyone in years, besides Wren, my parents, and, now, Kiernan.
“How did you become a pack alpha?”
A dry chuckle bursts from his mouth, surprising us both. Blinking rapidly, I let the sound sink into me, warming me from the inside. I need to make him laugh more.
“By accident,” he answers. “I found Kiernan in a bad place emotionally five years ago, and I didn’t have the heart to leave him to wither away in the woods. Tyler showed up after his own tragic heartbreak. And the boys, Will and Benny. Found them running from foster care after they shifted. Scared and alone, never had a home or real role models. Guess we’re a pack of misfits, but everyone contributes and earns their place.” A wistful smile tugs at one corner of his lips. Pride flashing in his eyes.
I realize I’m smiling, too, warmth filling my chest with the way he talks about his pack, his brothers. He’s saved these men without even meaning to, and I don’t think he realizes.
“You’ve created a really amazing place here, Reese. A sanctuary for those who need it most. It’s admirable,” I say, hoping my face conveys how proud I am of him. “Do you ever do any kind of pack bonding?”
“Pack bonding?” His thick, black brows pull together, deep wrinkles forming between them. My fingers twitch at my side with the need to smooth those lines away.
“Yeah,” I say, an idea sparking in my head. “Like a game night. Everyone could come and socialize. Eat some good food. Have a few drinks. Didn’t you ever have game nights before you lived here? ”
“No.”
“What did you do for fun?” I laugh at the confusion on his face.
“Work.”
“Come on, Reese. You can’t work all the time. People need to let loose every once in a while. They need to have fun and bond.”
“No.”
“Please,” I plead, sticking my bottom lip out in a pout. “It would give me a chance to spend more time with my sister’s mate and her friends. I’ll take care of everything. You just have to let me use your house and show up.”
He rolls his eyes, a scowl pulling his lips down. “Fine.”
I squeal, clapping my hands, and jumping up and down. When I look back at Reese, his eyes are laser focused on my breasts. My nipples pebble under his intense gaze and a dull throb begins between my legs like it does every time the full weight of his attention lands on me. I stand a little taller, knowing the man is at least mildly attracted to me. I can work with that.
“Great! I’ll leave you to do your woodworking, then. I’m making stir-fry for dinner later. Will you join me?” I internally cross my fingers, hoping I’ve thawed some of his icy walls.
He clears his throat. “No. I need to—”
“You need to eat, right? A big boy like you, I’m sure you can really pack it away,” I snark. “Please join me for dinner.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he nods and grunts his agreement .
“Perfect! See you at six,” I call over my shoulder as I turn to the door. My foot comes down on something sharp, pain shooting up my leg as I let out a cry.
Clutching my injured foot, I hop on the other, trying to get a glimpse of the injury. In my haste, I lose my balance and tip to the side. Squeezing my eyes shut, I brace for impact, but it never comes.
Two warm hands clamp around my waist, pulling me flush to a hard wall of muscle.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Concern snakes through his words, easing the pain in my foot to a dull throb.
Blinking my lids open, I come face to face with endless pools of melted dark chocolate. Reese’s eyes are filled with worry, brows scrunching together on his handsome face.
Before I can stop myself, my fingers make contact with the skin between his dark eyebrows, smoothing the furrow between them. Lightning shoots up my arm, goosebumps trailing across the flesh. There’s that weird feeling again, a dull ache of pleasure any time I touch him. Are we mates? Pushing the thought out of my head, I drop my arm to my side.
“Are you okay?” he asks again, face leaning closer to mine.
I nod, my mouth not capable of forming words while he’s this close to me. Pine and mint whirl in the air between us; I greedily suck in the scent as my lips part.
“Let me take a look.” Lifting me by the waist like I weigh as much as a feather, my butt connects with the wooden table top as Reese kneels in front of me .
His large hands swallow my tiny foot, heat coating my skin. One thumb massages up and down my arch as his eyes search for any injury.
Biting down on my lip, I swallow a moan as his fingers knead the arch of my foot.
“Looks like you stepped on a staple. No blood. You should be alright,” he says, using thick, skilled fingers to pluck the offending item from the ball of my foot.
“Oh,” I breathe, tipping my head back as Reese stands to his full height, stepping between my thighs, which automatically spread to make room for his bulk. He holds the small metal staple up in front of me.
“See?”
I nod again, still speechless at his proximity. I want him this close all the time. My lips part when Reese drops his hand to my hip, leaning closer. Our bodies drawn together like magnets.
“You have to be careful in here.” His voice is quiet and soothing. I haven’t heard him show this much concern since I’ve been here.
Still not able to get my mouth working, I nod yet again, staring up at him with wide eyes.
His free hand grips my shoulder before sliding to my throat, the move effectively incinerating my panties. Using his thumb, he tips my head back, our lips almost touching. His minty breath fans across my mouth.
Teasing. Tempting.
Kiss me, I plead in my head, too scared to say the words aloud and break the spell.
Reese runs his thumb over my bottom lip, pulling at the plump pink flesh. My skin comes to life under his touch, practically singing for more of his attention. A whimper slips out before I can stop it.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locked on my mouth like he’s in a trance. My pulse spikes as his thumb continues its tortuous path back and forth.
Back and forth.
“Please,” I manage to get out on a breathy pant.
He pulls back slightly, dark eyes locked on my mouth. “I shouldn’t.”
My tongue darts out, licking a path along my bottom lip, brushing against his thumb in the process. His pupils dilate. “Yes, you should.”
The weight of his forehead rests against mine, slowly rocking back and forth like he’s waging an internal war against this mysterious pull between us. “Stop fighting it, Grumpy Bear. Just let go.”
My words are all it takes before Reese’s lips slam down on mine. Yes.
His hand slides into my hair, tugging at the roots to direct my mouth how he wants. Fuck. I like the way he takes control of my body.
The fingers of his other hand dig into the flesh of my hip. Possessiveness radiates off him in waves as he plunders my mouth with his tongue.
I snake my own tongue into his mouth and I’m rewarded with a guttural moan. Licking languidly at the roof of his mouth and the ridges of his teeth as petals of desire bloom in my chest, spreading to my pussy. The internal muscles clench around nothing, arousal coating my panties.
Sliding my hands up Reese’s strong neck, I bury my fingers in the hair on the back of his neck. I pull him closer until we’re connected from mouth to groin. I never want this to end.
Letting out another whimper, I grind my core against him. The harsh denim against the cotton of my sleep shorts creates the perfect friction on my clit, but I want more.
I want all of him.
Ripping my lips away from his, my panting breath fills the garage. Reese’s lips kiss a path along my jaw and down my neck. I moan when his teeth graze the delicate skin and the coarse hairs of his beard rub against my flesh, creating a pleasant burn.
He rolls his hips against me, the large bulge in his pants brushing my cotton covered pussy. Each movement sparks a fire under my skin and I’m so close to combusting in his strong, capable arms.
“Yes, Reese. That feels amazing.”
Like someone poured a bucket of ice water on him, Reese releases his grip on me.
“Sorry,” he grunts, clearing his throat and abruptly spinning away from me, adjusting the front of his jeans. I instantly miss the warmth and comforting scent of his body. Walking to the other side of the garage, he picks up a broom and starts sweeping sawdust into a pile like we weren’t just fucking dry humping like two horny teenagers. “Game night. Friday night. I’ll be there.” His lips tip into a tight smile, but it looks forced. His eyes are blank again.
With the flip of a switch, he’s erected his walls again, but I’m determined. Even if I have to work twice as hard to break them down—it’ll be worth it for more of his lips on mine.
“Sure,” I squeak as my cheeks flame, chest still heaving from his kiss. Gingerly sliding off the table, I try not to put weight on my sore foot.
“Okay, um. See you later.” I make a beeline for the workbench, swiping up my mug.
Once I’m back in the kitchen, I raise a shaking hand to my lips; they’re slightly puffy. One thing’s for sure, the man knows how to kiss. If he hadn’t pulled away, I don’t think I would have been able to stop.
I didn’t want to stop.
There’s a fire between us, and I want to let it blaze out of control. I want him to lose control with me.
Crossing my fingers that this is the start of something between us, I skip up the stairs to shower and change.
My heart is lighter. My smile is brighter. He kissed me. Maybe I’m starting to get through my Grumpy Bear’s thick, icy walls quicker than I thought.