“Miss Mitchell.”
The moment Darryl Sykes lays soft gray eyes on me, the moment I see the slight shake of his head and hear his sigh, I know what he thinks of this entire arrangement. Fortunately for me, he chooses not to share that opinion with me. “Get on into the truck. But spray yourself with this first.” He tosses a can of bug spray in the air. I fumble with it before dropping it into the mud.
Darryl sighs again, this one louder and full of exasperation.
I offer him a smile of apology and then quickly douse myself from head to toe.
Mercifully, the uniform department had one pair of women’s steel-toe boots available. They’re two sizes too big and I feel like a clown, but they’ll work. So will the pair of men’s small pants that are loose but fitted enough not to fall off my hips. My Wolf Cove t-shirt fits, and if I roll up the sleeves of the Cove outdoor jacket, it’ll do.
All in all, I look like a little girl dressed in her daddy’s uniform, but I just have to grin and bear it until a size that fits me arrives. They said they’re shipping a few sets up from Seattle. Thankfully some Wolf Hotel locations believe in equal opportunity between sexes when it comes to outdoor maintenance.
We ride in complete silence, and I’m okay with that. Darryl doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who talks much. I’m guessing he’s in his late forties, wiry, with shaggy salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache over his lip. I’ve seen him leave on a fishing boat after shift every day, so I’m pretty sure he doesn’t live on the resort. He looks like the type of guy who sits in his living room alone with a bottle of Bud in one hand and TV remote in the other, happy not to deal with other humans.
It takes me a minute to realize that Darryl’s taking me to the exact clearing where Henry brought me that one time, and the second I do, a sharp pang stirs in my chest, of the fantasy I wish I could go back to, to forget the bitter disappointment that has followed.
Three trucks are lined side by side, and six big, muscular guys are busy chopping and stacking wood into the back of them. There’s clearly a “type” when they hired staff for the outdoor crew: strong and rugged.
A stir of nervous flutters spark in my stomach. Do they know I’m coming to work with them? What are they going to think? I wish I didn’t care so much about what other people think.
“Grab yourself a pair of gloves. You’ll be helping to stack wood today. We have a lot to replenish after the busy weekend and they’re calling for rain for the next few days, so we’ll be out here for most of the day.” Darryl eyes me warily. “Hope you’re up to it.”
I collect the pair of workers’ gloves, too large for my childlike hands, and slide out of the truck without a word, because it doesn’t matter what I say. Darryl has already made up his mind about me.
Connor sees me first, and it seems to catch him off guard because his face twists up in shock. Ronan, standing over a hunk of wood with an ax in hand, his jacket already peeled off despite the cool morning air, freezes midswing.
I don’t think I can deal with them today. Especially not when Ronan watches me with easy eyes and a relaxed smile, not an ounce of embarrassment. As if I didn’t walk in on him having sex with my roommates. As if I don’t know what he looks like beneath those clothes of his, how big his dick is when it’s erect, the kinds of sounds he makes when he’s turned on.
My cheeks flare with heat.
“Listen up, everyone. Abbi Mitchell will be joining us in the crew for the rest of the summer, or as long as she decides she wants to put up with you idiots.” A round of soft chuckles surrounds me. “I expect you all to treat her with respect. I better not hear anything different. Especially about you two.” He gestures at Ronan and Connor.
“Best behavior, Scout’s honor!” Connor promises, but that grin on his face makes me believe otherwise.
With that, Darryl climbs back into his truck and rolls away.
Great. That’s exactly how I want to be introduced to these guys. And now they’re all staring at me. Thank God for these baggy clothes.
I duck my head and trudge over toward the pile of chopped wood, my feet suddenly weighted down by my oversized boots.
“So, you got your sabbatical?” Connor hoists two large pieces of wood, one in each hand, seemingly with no effort.
I sigh, reaching down to grab a log. “Something like that.”
“You don’t look too happy about it.”
“I’m....” What am I? This is what I asked for, after all, when I foolishly tried to blackmail Henry. So, did I succeed? I still don’t know what’s happened to Michael, and I’m afraid to ask anyone. “I’m surprised is all. I didn’t really get much warning about the change.” I glance at the other guys, who I’ve seen around the lodge with Ronan and Connor, but I’ve never actually spoken to them. I can only imagine what they’ll be saying about me when I’m out of earshot.
Connor throws an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. “Well, don’t worry. Ronan and I’ll do all the hard work. You can just sit and watch if you want.”
When Ronan winks at me, I realize they’re not talking about crew work at all, and Ronan must have told him what happened in my cabin. Do they all think I like to watch people have sex now?
I shrug his arm off, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I can handle the hard work. I’ve worked on a farm all my life.”
“Oh, really.” Ronan chuckles and holds out the ax.
Seeing the challenge in his eyes, I march over and yank it from his grasp, silently thanking my asshole boss for having the decency to teach me how to swing one of these while he seduced me into giving up my virginity.
Remembering the details from Henry’s lesson—how to stand, how far apart my feet should be, where to aim—I try to ignore all the doubting eyes on me and I bring the blade down on the line once, twice. The third time, two pieces of wood tumble off the platform.
“Damn! She can put out fires and split wood. I think I’m in love,” Connor bellows from behind me, followed by a round of claps and hollers.
I’m so proud of myself, I can’t keep the stupid grin from my face. I level Ronan with a look. “Where’s the next piece?”
He simply lingers there for a long, silent moment, a mixture of surprise and newfound respect reflected on his handsome face, before he heaves over another chunk of wood and sets it up for me. “Well, all right then.”
“And Ronan?”
“Yeah?”
“Leave me the hell alone, today. Please. It’s already been a bad day.” I beg with my eyes, hoping to appeal to his more basic human emotions, buried somewhere deep within that deviant body of his.
He says nothing, but the flicker that passes through his eyes makes me believe he might understand.