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“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t he be hibernating? Seems counter to his internal programming.”
“I thought so too, but Google told me that as long as food is available, they don’t. And right now, this whole town is full of food.” He laughs. “A smorgasbord really, especially given he’s the biggest guy around.”
I draw in a deep breath. “Okay… so what you’re telling me is, if I move up here and take the GM job, I’ll have a bear to deal with too?”
Wayne laughs. “Hopefully, we’ll have him taken care of before then.”
The doorbell rings and Wayne heads toward it, leaving me with my thoughts of bears, the lodge, and what it would be like to live out here again. Every part of it sounds like a fantasy, though it negates the reason I’m here. Hell, part of me didn’t even want to come tonight because of the darkness I have hidden away.
The door opens slowly, and my gaze draws upward, following long legs to thick thighs, a short black skirt, a little red sweater, and long blonde hair.
It’s Poppy. She’s smiling with crimson lips, holding a tray of Christmas cookies that she’s no doubt spent hours decorating herself.
My cock thumps against my zipper, and I’m reminded that I’m a piece of shit. A piece of shit who shouldn’t be here.
I look away and step back into the kitchen, attempting to gather myself.
Don’t look at her, don’t think about her, don’t have feelings for her. Don’t look at her, don’t think about her, don’t have feelings for her.Under no fucking circumstance should I have feelings for her.
A man’s voice I don’t recognize filters in behind hers, and my ears perk. She giggles in that polite way she does when something isn’t at all hilarious, but she doesn’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.
What the fuck? Who is she pretending to laugh at?
I step out into the hallway to see a man helping her with her jacket. He’s tall and clean shaven, and he wears a sweater vest over the top of a button-down shirt. I’ve seen this kid before, but I can’t figure out from where.
Truthfully, he looks like a nice, young boy. The kind of boy I can imagine would be very good to Poppy. I’m sure he’d pull out all the chairs, open all the doors, and pay for every meal. I’m sure he’d hold her hand, keep her warm, and remind her how smart and beautiful she is on days when she’s struggling… but I can’t help but wonder if he’d touch her like I could. Would he make a necklace with his hand on her throat and bite her skin until she’s jumping and sighing, coming hard all over his cock?
I swallow hard. Settle down, darkness. Not tonight.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I step forward, holding out my hand like some psycho who wasn’t just thinking about how I could please a twenty-four-year-old better than her age-appropriate counterpart. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Oh, hey.” The kid’s voice is still squeaking. “I’m Adam. Are you Poppy’s brother?”
Might as well be, which is another reason this little crush I have on her is so fucking awful. I’ve known the girl forever.
“No. Friend of the family. That’s her brother Wayne.”
“Oh, sorry. Tonight is kind of our first date.”
I laugh and choke at the same time. “First date?At a Christmas Party? Wow! Young people do things different nowadays.”
Poppy rolls her eyes and smacks my arm as she walks by. “Be nice.”
She smells like winter berries and freshly fallen snow, if that’s a thing. Either way, that light tap was enough to prompt a fantasy about grabbing her thick waist and pulling her back into my arms.
Instead, she walks by, setting presents under the tree. “I didn’t get you anything, Bodie. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“Of course. Not a problem. How are ya?”
She drags in a deep breath and struggles to put on a smile. I’ve always gotten the impression that she doesn’t care for me much. “Yeah. I’m good. Very good. Things are good.” Her stammering response should be my inclination to step away. Instead, I take another moment to compare every other girl I’ve ever met to her.
No one compares to Poppy. They don’t even come close. That’s the pain of it all, the reality that I’m destined to spend my nights jerking off to pictures of her rather than touching her. I’ll never know what it’s like to run my hand over her smooth skin. I’ll never know what she tastes like, or what she sounds like when she’s crying out in pleasure. Hell, I’ll never even know what it’s like to hold her and keep her safe from the world, or what her innermost thoughts about life are.
“You, ugh, you still working down at the Country Dairy?” I brush my hand down over my beard as I talk.
She nods. “Every day.” She’s more curt tonight than usual.
I nod and take a pull of the bourbon I’m drinking way too damn fast.
