Page 19 of Wolf It Down, Knot Me Up

“That’s the goal.” He leans against the counter, tea towel over his shoulder, watching me push away my scraped-clean plate. “Your grandma’s orders, anyway. Fatten you up or answer to her.”

I laugh and carry my plate to the sink, because her rules apply even from twenty miles away. “That sounds exactly like her. Word for word.”

Then I hop up onto a stool. “So what’s new with you? It’s been a long time since I last visited home. Fill me in.”

His whole face lifts. “Well, my little brother’s getting married in San Diego, and I can’t wait to see him again, as it’s been a while.”

“Wow, that’s wonderful. So you’re the best man, then?”

“Sure am.” Then his mouth tugs sideways. “Though, the rest of the family’s still not sold on his Omega. Which is dumb, because she’s great. She’s smart and funny, and she keeps him honest. But she’s not exactly, you know, submissive. And you’d think he’d told them he was marrying a wolverine.”

“Not everyone wants a submissive Omega,” I say, knowing I’m one of those who picked up my strength from Grandma. She always told me not to let anyone walk all over me, including Alphas.

“No, I know that. I mean, the folks are old-school types.” He shrugs, rueful. “They have this picture in their heads of what an Omega’s supposed to be, all soft eyes and “yes, dear,” and if you don’t fit it, something must be wrong with you.” He glances at me and grins. “You’d have driven them insane. I mean that as the highest compliment.”

“I’ll add it to my dating resume.” I slide off the stool and steal one last strip of bacon off the platter because I’m weak and it’s there. Jerry, my previous Alpha here at Crimson Pine Lodge, had accepted me for exactly who I was, but every now and then, he’d hint that maybe I didn’t need to be quite so… strong. Maybe I didn’t need to crack every joke that popped into my head or fill every silence. He’d never asked me to change outright, but the comments had always registered with me. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t bothered dating anyone in the five years since I lost him. “Okay. I’m going to walk off this feast before I have to be rolled anywhere. Thanks, Ethan. Genuinely.”

“Go be free, Trouble. And we have guests coming in today, just a small group of men here for a fishing expedition. I’ll be taking them out most days, and I’ll prepare meals for our guests out in the woods, so you don’t need to worry about doing anything.”

He grins at me, saying nothing more, because I know he’s trying to impress my grandma by doing it all.

“Okay, but just know I’m here to help out. Anyway, I’m heading out to properly meet the guys in the cabin, as Grandma asked me to.”

“Oh, perfect timing.” Ethan turns back to the bench behind him and lifts a wicker picnic basket lined with a blue-checked cloth. The smell of fresh butter and herbs drifts toward me. “I baked them a fresh batch of biscuits this morning. They practically inhale them.”

He holds the basket out.

I stare at the offering. “I’m one blanket away from starring in a countryside tourism brochure.”

He chuckles. “They still haven’t returned the last two containers I sent over, so they’ve lost the privilege. Picnic basket it is.”

I laugh as I take it from him. “That’s… weirdly wholesome.”

“Don’t let the big mountain men fool you,” he says. “Feed them and they’re surprisingly easy to manage.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I head outside, where the day has arrived in full. I draw in the air that’s so clean it’s almost sweet, exactly the kind of morning I used to dream about in Miami traffic with a bus wheezing exhaust through my window. You forget, in a city, that quiet has a texture.

Truth is, I didn’t sleep well. Half the night, I spent turning over in that beautiful bed, listening to a house I don’t have memorized yet settle around me, and the bite on my hand itched the whole time.

But Grandma asked me to help with the lumberjacks, so I’m not sitting around not helping when Ethan has his hands full with guests. I need to go and introduce myself properly. Besides, I owe Roman a thank-you after the crazy ordeal in the woods.

Grandma trusts them and speaks of them fondly, which means I have to believe they have no ill intent. Though, based on yesterday’s encounter, it’s clear one of them likes to joke around. Two can play at that game.

The track is on the far right side of the lodge. Ethan’s biscuits are still warm through the wicker against my ribs. A girl with a basket, walking into the deep woods to a cabin, and all I’m missing is a red cape and an actual wolf.

Around me, sunlight filters through the towering pines, lighting up patches of moss while the rest of the world sits shaded beneath the canopy. The air smells of damp earth and sap, and the breeze stirs the branches overhead.

Then I hear a low, male grunt, followed by the rumble of deep voices.

My steps falter.

Instead of walking straight toward the cabin, I slip quietly off the track and weave between two thick pines, wanting to see who I’m dealing with first and work out what I’m going to say so I don’t mumble. Ferns brush against my calves as I duck behind a screen of dense undergrowth, the basket hugged against my ribs. From here, I have the perfect view through the foliage. They can’t see me, but I’m watching the cabin up ahead, tucked into the clearing.

Except, it’s not the cabin I remember. This is a whole house of dark logs under a green metal roof, a stone chimney letting up a thin blue thread of smoke, and a deep porch running the length of it. In the front yard, a splitting stump sits worn, with an axe driven into the wood. Firewood is stacked against the side of the house. And that’s when I spot two men strolling from around the back of the cabin, talking low.

The first one I know instantly, and my stomach fills with butterflies at the sight of Wolf. Impossible to mistake: that mountain of a body in a dark button-up shirt with the sleeves shoved to the elbow, black hair, a shadow of a beard, and all those muscles.

Then the man beside him lifts his head to say something, and the sun catches his eyes. They’re hazel brown, and the basket nearly slides out of my hands.