Wolf Bite (Wolf Cove #2) (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“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.

Chapter Seventeen

“Those green things, they don’t get any better
when they’re cold.”

I drag my eyes up from the brussels sprouts on my plate to
see Miguel’s wide grin. He’s making his rounds with a bin, loading in dirty
dishes to take to the back.

The smile slides off when he sees my sullen expression.
“What the matter?”

“Nothing. Just tired.”

“Right. I heard about that. So, you’re part of the crew now?
Crazy. How’d that happen?”

I’ve seen the look on his face plenty of times already
today. A lot of surprise, even more doubt. I sigh. Everyone’s been asking me
that exact same question, along with “Why didn’t you go with Wolf? Doesn’t he
need an assistant?” I give Miguel the standard answer that I’ve given to
everyone else. “I knew my job as his assistant would only be a temporary one.”

“So, this is really what you want?”

“I like being outdoors. It’s what I originally applied for,
so yes.” So, so long ago, it seems now. Back when all I wanted to do was get
away from Jed and Greenbank, sure that I’d never get over him. Unable to so
much as imagine looking at another guy.

Boy, was I wrong on so many counts.

“Well, then, I guess that’s good.” He pauses. “It’s a good
look for you. It’s hard though.”

“Yeah.” I reach up to rub my shoulders. A full day of
swinging an ax and loading wood, then unloading and stacking has reminded me
how inactive I’ve been through the school year. I’m going to have a hard time
getting out of bed tomorrow morning.

I could
really
use a massage.

“Hey, do you know—” I begin to ask about Michael but then stop
myself abruptly. Miguel knows that Michael was with a girl two nights ago. If I
ask flat-out, he may put two and two together, and I can’t risk anyone putting
two and two together to equal Abbi was sleeping with Henry Wolf.

Henry has turned me into a paranoid freak.

But I need to know exactly what happened with Michael
because no one has said a word about him being fired and shipped off yet.

Deciding on a more roundabout approach, I toy with my
steamed rice and ask casually, “So, what’s the latest gossip? Anything
interesting happening around here?”

Miguel shrugs. “Rachel came back.”

“Yeah. I know. She’s my roommate.”

“That’s right! I forgot. A cabin full of beautiful ladies.”

I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. After hearing how he
refers to those “beautiful ladies” when he doesn’t think they’re around, his
charm holds no power over me. “Anything else?”

“Nah. Same ol’ shit.”

I just don’t get it. Miguel would have heard about his
roommate being fired, wouldn’t he?

Unless he wasn’t fired?

Do I dare hope that Henry was lying? Or maybe he changed his
mind?

“You still eating?”

I offer Miguel a weak smile. “I might. Thanks.” My phone rings
then, and I’m torn between relief that I can end my conversation with Miguel
and annoyance that I have to deal with a call from home.

“See ya around, sweet Abbi.” Miguel winks and moves off to
the next table with that swagger of his.

With a sigh, I answer. My day has already hit rock bottom.
She can’t possibly make it any worse. “Hey, Mama. Sorry I didn’t have a chance
to call back.”

“What on
earth
have you done to yourself, Abigail?”

I frown, unease sliding down my spine like a trickle of cold
water. “What are you talking about?”

“There I was, mindin’ my own business at Sunday service and
Mary Jane shows me a picture of
my daughter
looking like a jezebel!”

I don’t even know which Mary Jane she’s talking about—we
know at least five—but now I’m panicking, especially given Henry’s threat.
“What are you talking about?” For Mama to refer to me as a jezebel—a name that
up until now has been reserved for Jed’s girlfriend—is serious.

“Some big event at that hotel you’re working at. There were
pictures posted on that Tweeter thing.”

Oh. I heave a sigh of relief. “You mean from the grand
opening?”

“Alls I know is you were in a skimpy black dress and those
ridiculous shoes, and I could barely recognize you under all that muck on your
face. And what on Gods green earth did you do to your hair! You’ve ruined it!”

I roll my eyes. I expected as much from her. “Mary Jane,
who?”

“Lucy’s little sister.”

Of course. Lucy. The one who e-mailed me, asking about
Alaska. I taunted her with a link to a picture of Henry, mainly so it would get
back to Jed, so people would stop saying I’m heartbroken and want him back.
“Why are they looking at Wolf Hotels on Twitter?” I already know the answer to
that, before she gives it to me.

“They’re all obsessed with what you’re doin’ in Alaska and
this boss of yours. And stop trying to change the subject.”

Of course they are. Because they don’t know the real him,
like I so unfortunately do now. “I was required to wear that dress.” I
stubbornly add, “And I don’t think I looked bad.”

“You had everyone’s tongues waggin’ around here. I can’t
believe I had to defend my own daughter. What kind of employer would require
you to dress like that as his assistant, you tell me that!”

She doesn’t really want to hear the answer to that.

And I don’t want to talk about Henry—or what I’ve been doing
up here—with anyone, including Mama. “How are things in Greenbank? How’s Dad?”
I haven’t talked to him at all since I got here, which isn’t entirely unusual.
He’s not much of a phone guy and he’s hardly actually at home. I’ll have to
call when I know he’s around. Basically, at sunrise, at lunch, or at
dinnertime. Otherwise he’s in the fields or sleeping. The time difference is
making it hard.

She heaves a sigh. “The usual. I haven’t been sleepin’ much,
worryin’ about you.”

I hear the sound of her sucking back a sip of something.
“You’re drinking coffee?”

“Just my usual cup.”

I roll my eyes again. “It’s almost ten at night over there,
Mama. You’re not sleeping because of caffeine. Don’t be trying to give me a
guilt trip about that.”

“I’m not givin’ you a guilt trip. If you feel guilty, then
it must be because you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing.”

Good old manipulative Mama.

The crew strolls in then, all freshly showered and changed,
and my spirits sink. I was hoping to avoid them for the rest of the day, to be
honest. Not that they’ve been anything but civilized. Ronan was decent enough
to leave me alone, and Connor made only a few mild sexual innuendos that
actually made me chuckle.

But I’m exhausted and sore and all I wanted to do was grab a
quick bite to eat in peace and then go back to shower and curl up in bed.

Ronan and I lock eyes for a split second, but I avert my
eyes quickly.

“Abigail! Are you even listening?”

“Yes!” I totally wasn’t listening.

“That place and those people are obviously no good for you.
You’ve had your time to do whatever it is you needed to do, and now it’s time
to come home, before you have major regrets. I’m sure Reverend Enderbey doesn’t
like seeing his future daughter-in-law splashed all over the Internet,
especially not dressed like that.”

I let out a loud groan of frustration. Every conversation
with her is the same. She is relentless and delusional. She’s one of those
people who thinks that if she keeps harping on a topic, she’ll eventually get
her way. The worst part is, she usually does.

“For the last time, Mama,” I manage to get out through
gritted teeth. “Jed and I are
not
getting back together. I don’t care if
you’re right and he gets bored of Cammie. I don’t care if he changes his mind.
I don’t want him back. I will
never
want him back.” It’s time to lay
down the law, because I can’t keep dealing with this. I’ll go insane. “You want
to know why I don’t call home more often? Why I avoid your phone calls? For
this exact reason. I’m sick and tired of the broken record. I love you, but
from now on, every time you bring Jed up, I will hang up the phone.”

“Abigail Margaret Mitchell, I am your mama and you do not
speak to me like that.”

“Too bad, Mama. You’re not respecting my wishes and you
won’t let me move on!” I’m not bothering to be quiet. I don’t care who can hear
me anymore.

A strangled gasp fills my ear. “After all your daddy and I
have done for you, paying for your schooling, raising you right, giving you
everything you have, you have the nerve to speak to me like that.”

Here we go, the second stage of Mama’s guilt trip. “I
appreciate all of that, but that doesn’t mean you get to make my decisions for
me. I’m an adult now.”

“I don’t try to make your decisions. I simply try to guide
you in the
right direction
!”

The
right direction
—to spend the rest of my life with
my cheating ex-fiancé because it looks good for the Mitchell family that he’s
the reverend’s son. It took me a while to realize that this is what it’s really
about: our standing in Greenbank. Our standing with the church. She’s so caught
up in that, she can’t see anything else.

The guys head toward the cafeteria. Except for Ronan. He’s
weaving through the tables, on his way toward me.

“I’ve gotta go. My boss is calling,” I lie. I can’t deal
with her anymore. Not today.

“And your boss is more important than me?”

No, nobody is more important than you, Mama, because you’re
a narcissist.

“Talk to you later.” I hang up before she can respond,
dropping my phone into my pocket just as Ronan stops next to my seat, the smell
of fresh soap enveloping me. While I wasn’t sweating today, I know I’m far from
clean. I really should just get up and go right now. “Aren’t you getting
dinner?”

“Connor’s grabbing a tray for me.” He spins a chair around
to straddle it, his knee bumping into mine. “You okay, red?”

I tuck my legs in tighter and stab my roast beef with a
fork. “I’m fantastic.”

“Good. I was afraid you weren’t, the way you ran out of your
cabin that night.”

Is he actually going to bring that up, right
here
? I
glare at him, hoping my warning is clear—that I never want to talk about that
night with him, especially now that I’m going to have to work with him every
single day.

“Hey, boss.” Connor comes up from behind to set his tray
down on the other side of me. He hands one to Ronan. He eases into his seat.
“Long-ass day, huh?” He shoves a slice of roast beef into his mouth, then washes
it down with beer, before winking at me.

“Yeah. But I liked it.” I will not show these guys my
physical pain, I promise myself as I quietly eat my cooled plate of food.

Other guys begin trickling in from the cafeteria line to
take seats at our table.

“I’ll get you a beer,” a guy in a security uniform says to
another. The badge clipped to his shirt reads Corbin.

“Fuck that. You’ll need to buy me a case for me to ever
agree to swap with you again,” the guy trailing him says. He’s also in a
security guard uniform, with a badge that reads Mark. I immediately recognize
his voice as the security guard roommate from Michael’s cabin. He looks exactly
like the burly teddy bear I imagined when I heard his voice.

Does he know what happened to Michael?

“Come on! It’s
a bit
funny,” Corbin says, smiling.

Mark drops his tray onto the table. “Nope. It’s not.”

“Why would you want to sit in a room all night and watch
monitors, anyway?”

“Same reason you do. So I can watch people screwing in the
stairwell. And
not
get pissed on.”

Right. He’s still angry about that.

“Watching people screw. What would that be like? Hey, red?”
Ronan murmurs under his breath, knocking my arm with his elbow.

I don’t think anyone heard but still, my face explodes with
heat. I stuff a brussels sprout into my mouth to avoid having to answer.

“So, how many cameras are there around this place, anyway?”
Connor asks.

“Dude...” Mark groans, cutting into his meat. “So many.
Unless you’re inside your room or the showers, assume you’re on camera when
you’re on this property.”

Cameras, everywhere. Does
that mean that the Wolf security watched
my mini breakdown in the
stairwell this morning?

“Seriously? Fuck... Can’t get away with anything,” Connor
mutters.

“No.
You
really can’t.” Corbin points his breadstick at
Connor and then laughs, like he’s already caught Connor on camera doing
something untoward. I wonder if that something untoward is with Tillie. Though
I doubt she’s dumb enough to get caught on video.

Not like me.

“Not unless you know where the blind spots are, and there
aren’t many,” Mark adds.

There’s a round of ketchup-passing and salt-tossing back and
forth around me, as the guys trade comments about hot guests and hot coworkers
through mouthfuls, not in the least bit concerned that they may offend me.

“He’s alive!” Mark announces as Andy takes a seat. “Thought
you were going to be incapacitated for a few days.” He laughs when he says
that, like there’s some funny story behind it. Obviously he knows something
that I don’t.

“Yeah, that was the plan,” Andy mutters in his throaty
Australian accent. “But my shoulder’s acting up again.”

“Get Aspen to work on it. It’s his damn job. What the hell
else is he good for?”

“I wish. Aspen’s gone. Left yesterday.”

My heart skips a beat.
And... finally
. Confirmation
that Henry wasn’t lying and he really did fire Michael for sleeping with me.

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Clearly, Mark had no idea.

“I mean packed up and on the ferry, gone.”

Mark’s face pinches up. “Like,
fired
?”

“Dunno. He just said he had to go.”