Chapter Five
Mike grabbed his shotgun and walked out of the cabin, tripping on a box shoved between the doors. He set down the gun to pick up the box. Annie had dropped off a pie, more bandages, and—he cursed—a box of damn condoms. He shook his head.
That meddling old lady needed a talking to. He grumbled, shoving the box inside on the floor with his booted foot. What the hell had she been doing out in the storm anyway? Now he’d have to check on her. Condoms? Really, Annie? But dammit if his mouth didn’t go dry at the thought of using them.
He scooped up the gun again and grunted for Rocky to follow. He didn’t go far without the gun, not with the cougar in these parts, but he wouldn’t shoot it unless his life depended on it. Cougars were endangered in New Brunswick. The fact that the cat had cubs was fantastic, but even more dangerous, especially with this late spring storm.
She’d not only be aggressive to protect her young, but hungry. He also needed the gun because any opportunity to bring down a deer or moose was one he didn’t want to miss. He’d need more meat before long. He shook his head again, thinking of his stubborn neighbor out in this weather. He was already up to his knees in snow, and it was showing no signs of letting up. He pulled his toque down further over his ears.
He mentally went through his food stocks in the root cellar. It wasn’t much more than an eight by eight room beneath the kitchen, but it was great to store the vegetables he grew over the summer. It didn’t freeze down there since it was close enough to the woodstove, but it did stay fifteen degrees cooler than rest of the cabin. Living off-grid wasn’t easy, but it was his life now, and he enjoyed the hard work. The stress of his job, constant coffee, and road food had given him stomach problems that never acted up now. Now he sold his vegetables and occasionally game at the farmer’s market in town, and that earned him enough to stock up on things he couldn’t grow or make himself. He wasn’t a caveman, after all. He still had his savings and the money from the house and insurance, but it was all money he didn’t like to think about.
He took a deep breath; it was a cleansing shock to his lungs. God, he loved the peace of the mountains, even when it was blisteringly cold and almost peeled the skin from his face. He thrived here. He just needed to get rid of the girl, but for some reason the thought gave him a pang of regret. He didn’t quite know why. Was it the sexual attraction? Did he simply crave the fulfillment of his carnal urges? Mike knew the answer wasn’t that simple and it annoyed the hell out of him.
The girl was saucy and funny—quite adorable actually, especially when he threatened to spank her. Mike rubbed his beard, brushing the snow off. And when she called him Daddy, good God, he got hard. What the hell was that all about? It had started as a joke but it was no longer funny. He’d always had a dominant side, but Ella hadn’t liked it so for the sake of their marriage, he’d buried it. She hadn’t even liked to be weaker in play. He got the impression the little girl in his cabin had no such qualms.
He’d gotten quite far from home when he noticed Rocky had wandered off into the deeper snow. He roamed a lot, and Mike had learned not to worry, but in this storm, he felt a bit anxious having the bear out of sight. He’d grown rather attached and found the days longer when Rocky was deep in hibernation. They were both loners though. The bear did his thing and it worked out just fine.
Mike’s mind went back to Ella. That was rare these days and to do it twice in a matter of minutes startled him. Their marriage hadn’t been great, though he supposed that’s what happened when high school friends messing around resulted in pregnancy. After losing the baby, they’d tried to make things work, but any passion between them had fizzled. Regardless, he’d tried to do right by her. He’d tried to protect her, even when he’d believed the best way to do that was to stay away from her.
His thoughts hitched as grief and failure overwhelmed him. He fought to keep it inside but decided it might rip him to shreds, so he roared like an animal into the wilderness. The sound was guttural but not nearly satisfying enough since the howling wind swallowed it.
Finding the nearest fallen log, he sat. Letting his arms drape over his thighs and his head hang, he cleared his mind. He forced back the guilt with every cloudy puff of breath he exhaled. It was in the past and as soon as the girl was gone he could go back to his reclusive survivalist life, only seeing Annie when it was necessary. He didn’t need another woman to care for. Willful Annie was enough. What was it about his need to nurture and care for the women in his life?
When he got close to Annie’s farm, he pulled his binoculars out, concentrating on the cold air rushing into his lungs. He didn’t feel like confronting her anymore, not since his earlier thoughts had stirred unease in him. He saw her through the kitchen window and chuckled, despite his melancholy. She was dancing with her broom.
“Eccentric old bat,” he murmured and scanned the area farther from her property, noting depressions in the snow. Something large had cut through her land, but the tracks were too snow-covered by the storm for him to know what. He looked for both the cat and game as well as anything larger that might still be around.
He spotted Rocky rustling in a bush and took a moment to watch, letting the sight calm him. It was time to head back and see how his patient was doing. He wondered if she’d stayed in bed as he’d instructed. Probably not, he thought with a chuff that sounded a lot like a noise Rocky would make.
Women never listened. He reminded himself he’d be rid of her soon and watched as Rocky barreled toward him. It would be just him and Rocky again. He shivered as the cold seeped through him. Just him and Rocky.
He’d make her rest up another week, hand over her purse, give her a ride to town, and be done with her. Mike’s gut sank at the thought, but he ignored it. He walked back up the steep mountainside feeling grumpier than he should have. Her pretty hazel eyes rose in his mind’s eye, and his chest felt tight. He grunted and shook his head. Pretty eyes nothing, he told himself. He wasn’t keeping her around no matter how good she looked in his bed. Nope, no way. He’d sworn off people in general but women especially. Besides, his cop instincts had never faded, but even if they had, he’d seen the wad of cash in her purse and the gun. That little girl was up to something, and it wasn’t good.
* * *
She’d stayed in bed as far as Mike could tell. She was curled under the blanket with her thumb across her lips as if even in sleep she was holding all her secrets in. She was a beauty, he could tell, even though she was still pale and bandaged. His eyes went to her curved bottom mostly hidden under the blanket.
He’d never threatened anyone with a spanking before, let alone doled one out, but with this girl, it seemed appropriate. Or maybe he’d become uncivilized living alone in the wilderness. He chuckled quietly and shut the bedroom door before she woke.
He wanted to know her story more than he should. And with the arch of her bottom fitting so nicely in his hand when he carried her and the perfect wobble it gave when he swatted it, he suddenly wanted her around long enough to explore both her mind and body further. He’d broken out in a sweat when he’d removed her clothes and dressed her in his t-shirt last evening. She had the smoothest skin he’d ever touched.
Mike took the meat from the fridge and chopped onions and garlic as he thought more about the woman in his bed. Was she on the run from some trouble she’d caused, or simply escaping a bad situation? He hadn’t decided yet, but he’d figure her out soon enough.
* * *
“Hey,” Avery said sleepily as she walked out of the bedroom. His brow quirked and she held up her hands. “Just up for the bathroom—” She paused, before adding, “Daddy.” He nodded, and she thought she saw a small twitch in the corner of his mouth. He liked when she called him Daddy and that made her blood pound, because she liked it too. His eyes went to her legs, and she tugged the shirt a little lower, although she didn’t know why. The way he made her pulse for him, she’d gladly take the shirt right off.
He grunted and turned back to his cutting board.
In the small bathroom, she examined herself in the vanity mirror. Blinking at her reflection, she wondered what the big handsome man in the kitchen thought of her. Could he see anything beyond the woman he thought was a ‘little girl’? Did he think she was pretty? She snarled at herself. How stupid. She didn’t care what any man thought of her. Men were the reason everything was screwed up in the first place. She spun and opened the door, peeking at Mike. He didn’t seem to want anything from her. He’d only helped her, somewhat begrudgingly too. She smiled as she watched him chopping carrots. He looked huge next to the small fridge, and his large hand practically swallowed the knife he held. No, Mike did want something. He wanted to spank her for every careless thing she did. A smile widened on her face and she felt the need to fan herself.
Mike turned, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “What are you smiling about?”
“Hmm?” She cocked her head to the side, watching him. “Would you believe me if I said it was an old joke that just popped in my head?”
“Nope.” He shook his head slowly.
“Okay, how about if I said it was watching your huge hands struggle with that dinky knife?” He narrowed his eyes a fraction and scrutinized her face. He took a few steps closer, ran his hand over his beard and shook his head again.
“Uh-uh.” He crossed his arms. “I think you’re smiling because the way I control things intrigues you.”
“Maybe,” she admitted with a half shrug.
“But it isn’t some kinky little game you think you might be into, is it?”
Although that sounded fun to her too, he was right, that wasn’t the only thing that appealed to her about it. She paused and swallowed as her mouth suddenly watered.
“You like the idea of being taken care of like that—of giving up the control you’ve always held fast to.” He paused, narrowing his eyes to read her. “Not held onto by choice, but necessity.”
She rolled her eyes to hide the fact that he’d hit the nail on the head, but her knees trembled. How could he know?
“You think you’re a shrink or something?” she asked and he only chuckled and tossed the towel on the counter.
“You’re more transparent that you think, little girl.” He leaned back against the cupboards and smoothed his beard with his right hand while propping his left casually on his hip. His still narrowed eyes looked her over.
“You’re completely intrigued by the way I live and find a certain appeal in it. You don’t have much use for people either. You’ve been on your own for a while, and I know you’re running from something.” He scooped the towel back up, folded it, and hung it on the cupboard handle. “I have some experience in behavioral analysis.”
Her stomach tightened but this time from fear. How much longer before he figured her out completely? She had to get away.
“You can keep thinking whatever you want,” she said dismissively and walked gingerly to the couch and sat.
“Nuh-uh,” he said and pointed back to the bedroom. “Back you go, little one.”
“Seriously? God! I’ve been in bed for days! I’m fine! I just want a shower and to feel like a human instead of an invalid for a little while. I’m fine!” He crossed those thick arms, and her stand weakened. “Please. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Go shower, but don’t get your sutures wet. After, you can come lie on the couch while I finish cooking.” He pressed his lips together a moment before adding, “And you’re not leaving tomorrow. You lost a lot of blood and until I’m one-hundred percent convinced you’re fine, you’re not going anywhere.” He picked up the wooden spoon that he’d set out for the stew and smacked it against his palm.
“As much as I like my peace, you’re not well enough, and the storm hasn’t passed. And when I think you’re ready, I’ll take you to town. Until then you’re stuck here—with me.” He looked down at the smacking spoon. “And my spanking threats.”
“You’re terribly controlling, you know.” She huffed, crossing her arms and kicking the coffee table.
“Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes dilated, all of which means you like it, you know.”
He turned back to his pot and she growled.
“Little girl, your temper tantrum is making my palm itch. And you do not need a sore bottom on top of everything else, now do you?”
“Fine!” She got up. “Where are the towels in this grand hotel?”
He didn’t look back at her, only pointed the spoon to a closet beside the bathroom.
“Hot water is limited, and the pressure is low. Be quick.”
“Got it, Daddy.” The word ‘Daddy’ was pure snarl.
“I’ve been very patient with you because you were injured, but your tongue is one more word away from earning you a spanking. Are you sure you want that?” His tone was low and menacing, but it only scattered her belly with nervous anticipation and need.
“My tongue doesn’t care!”
He spun, walked briskly toward her, and she back-pedaled until she hit the wall.
“My butt does! No, no, please, Mike! My butt cares!” She held up her hands, waving them, but he grabbed both her wrists in one large hand and pulled her forward to the sofa.
She squealed in protest, but he said nothing. He leaned her over the back, and the spoon landed sharply across her cheeks, severely enough that she no longer felt excitement. She howled, as a flurry of swats landed harshly. She wished she had some damn pants on! Her feet danced as he finished by giving her three of the hardest whacks yet and then stopped. She bolted straight up, both of her hands finding her bottom cheeks and clenching the burning flesh. They buzzed from the sting.
“Ow! That hurt!”
He leaned close to her face and smiled. “It was supposed to, little girl. Does your tongue care to mess with me further?” He straightened, crossing his bulging arms and she shook her head promptly. He pointed to the bathroom. “Shower. Five minutes or I’m coming in to get you.”
“G-get me?” she stammered. “You do know spanking me is illegal, right?” Her eyes narrowed and she released her bottom to cross her own arms. The spanking hurt, but damn, the slow burn he’d created since she’d met him was a raging five-alarm fire now.
“Uh huh,” he said, sounding unconcerned. He reached out and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Her eyes were glued to his, but her stomach was a mass of quivering nerves.
“Something tells me you’d rather not be around the authorities right now. And if I have to come get you, little girl, I’ll be taking you right over my knee. A wet bottom should sting a hell of a lot more, and it won’t be just a few little smacks either.”
She swallowed hard, feeling completely dizzy with desire, but spun, opened the closet, and grabbed a dark blue towel and washcloth. She froze a minute as her eyes settled on a black box in the bottom before she shut the door swiftly. A black metal box with a lock. Jackpot.
“Move it! And go easy on the faucet handles in there, too. Don’t be cranking them off like the Hulk.”
“Oooh,” she purred, looking over her shoulder at her bottom. “Daddy, you spank hard.” She rubbed her backside, and he shook his head, but the smirk that played on his mouth couldn’t be hidden behind his mustache.
* * *
She kept rubbing as she walked into the bathroom and the look on her face as she shut the door made him all but laugh aloud. She had her bottom lip out in a pout, but her brows wiggled at him in the goofiest way.
Mike scrubbed a hand over his beard. She’d seen his lockbox, though. He stared at the closed bathroom door as if by will he could see through it. He imagined her with her back pressed against it, her heart pounding and her mind reeling, his spanking and the threat of more only half the reason. Her reaction and attempt at distraction told him she’d be opening his box first chance she got. Looking for money, he decided. She’d need to replace what she’d lost. She was definitely running from something.
He sucked his bottom lip through his teeth and narrowed his eyes in concentration. There was too much insecurity and underlying fear in her eyes for her to be a criminal though. The girl needed help, someone to take care of her and remove the burden she carried. That’s what his gut told him. He gathered a breath and went to finish the stew.
Was he capable of being that man? His chest tightened at the thought, even if he felt the pull to be her hero. He’d lost everyone he’d ever tried to save. His forehead wrinkled, and he shook his past from his thoughts, thinking instead of the feel of her bottom. It was creamy, meaty, and had just the right amount of wobble. His groin hardened and he clenched his jaw.
“Focus on dinner, Mike. And that’s all,” he mumbled to himself, glancing back at the door as the shower went on. His breath quickened as he pictured her naked and glistening. He closed his eyes a minute before starting to search the pantry for ingredients to bake bread. Kneading and pounding dough might keep his mind from going where it shouldn’t—her wet and naked, her nipples stiff from the chill. Fuck!