Red and her Wolf Ch. 02

Emily

"You ever used an axe before, Red?"

Kade and I stand in the center of the deep green woods, in an open glade. A hefty piece of cedar sits on a large stump in front of us. The sun streams through a small opening in the trees, directly on the axe now being handed to me.

I take the axe, it's weight heavier than how light he made it look. "No, actually."

"Let me teach you." He comes up behind me, his muscle imprinting into my back. His warm hands covering mine. "Keep a firm grip. Focus only on where you want to hit. Trust that it'll strike true." Strong fingers run up my arms, travel down my shoulders and rest on either side of my waist. "Give it a shot."

I nod, strengthened by Kade's belief in me, fuzzy and content from his hands on my skin. I lift the axe high, staring at the center of the log, and strike down with all my strength.

The log cracks in two. I smile wide, turning in Kade's arms. "I did it!"

"Yeah, you did, sweetheart." He cups the back of my neck, and kisses me with stunning heat. Tongue sweeping mine, our mouths moving in delicious, natural sync. His palm runs up my shirt to cup a breast before retreating to the edge of my yoga pants, his fingers dipping under the elastic waistband. "Now it's time for your prize."

He gets down on his knees. Looks up at me with an impossibly amber gaze. Slowly pulls my waistband down a fraction, revealing hipbones, the flame of trimmed hair at my mound. His breath hitches at the sight, eyes growing more hooded before he licks between my thighs with a fierce movement of his head. Vicious. Desperate.

"Kade..."

His tongue is slippery, searing bliss. Knowing exactly where to lave and suck."I could smell you getting wet for me this morning." Another hot lick. "Such a particular scent. Sweet. Honey and salt." He grasps the flesh of my ass and-

I wake up gasping. Covered in a thin film of sweat, my blanket on the floor, a sheet of red hair plastered over my face. Uncomfortably wet and sticky, especially where Kade was...feasting.

What the hell was that? I've never dreamed that vividly before. That erotically. None of my previous sexual experiences compare. My thighs are shaking, my body still near-orgasm. A few more seconds and I would have. I'm tempted to finish myself off.

My thirst is interrupted with a loud thwack: the unmistakable sound of Kade's axe. A piercing reminder that in reality, lover-boy hates me, doesn't want me anywhere near him. I groan, picking up my cell to check the time.

Eight o' clock sharp.

How punctual of him.

Well, I guess I'm never looking him in the eye again. Which- if basing things on our last real life encounter- is probably exactly what he wants. His glare is permanently etched in my brain.

I don't like how much my heart sinks at the thought of him disliking me.

Wait. Who cares what he thinks? I don't need his approval.

I force myself off the couch to brush my teeth, feeling more antsy and restless than ever, no thanks to that messed up dream.

My stomach growls. I rummage through my suitcase. Find a chocolate protein bar to chew on before beginning part two of my dusting spree. I get dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, walk up the creaking stairs to the master bedroom and begin wiping hardwood down from top to bottom.

As I tackle the ensuite clawfoot tub, I realize that cold water and a cloth rag isn't doing much in terms of actual cleansing. At the very least I need vinegar. Borax. Something with more oomph.

I sigh, tying my hair up in a low bun as I glance out the hazy window.

My limbs turn to jello in one turn of my head.

There he is. Kade, in his backyard. But in a surprising situation: perched on a ladder, picking cherries off a tree. Admirably shirted this time, though the thin gray cloth clings to muscle in a way that's just as indecent. He pops a cherry in his mouth, chews thoughtfully, spits out the pit. Stains his lips red.

My hand flutters to my chest like a flustered Victorian. Heart pitter-pattering at the sight of jaded tough guy gathering ripe fruit. Not a normal reaction for me, especially for someone I just met. What's even more interesting, unexpected, is the fact that his backyard is a gardener's paradise: wooden beds filled to the brim with fresh greens, corn, squash, flowers. Emanating life. Pebble walkways in between. A hummingbird buzzing by the rosebushes, a chicken pecking its way across the lush lawn. Small box-like figures that I'm sure are beehives.

It's all just so...wholesome.

My eyes settle on Kade again. The dedicated pinch of his brows as he puts all his intention in his work, cherries falling into a silver bucket below. His tongue sliding across his lower lip in concentration.

The movement catches me off guard. Heat explodes in my lower belly as I immediately cut to last night's dream. That expert tongue between my thighs. The raw desire on his face. All for me.

Fuck. I clamp my legs tight together. Breath hitching at the hot throb, inadvertent but fierce.

I grimace at my horny weakness. Torn between the three versions of Kade that now exist in my head simultaneously: Kade, the mean, axe-wielding bastard. Kade, the fruit-picking green thumb, and Kade, the sinful dream man that can sniff me out when I'm wet.

I know the last one isn't real. Not to mention, I've sworn off jerks like Kade since elementary school. I've been lucky enough to have never been swept away by a bad boy, unlike how so many of the naive girls around me did. I was never boy-crazy. I've always been too smart, too ambitious for that, mainly interested in getting my Master's Degree in Law. In my university years I was lucky enough to have dated two nice guys that respected me. True gentlemen. We're still friends to this day.

However, there was always something missing with them... passion.

I know this because for the first time ever, in my latest dream, I felt it.

I felt it for Kade.

It wasn't even real, Em. Don't be stupid. I tear my gaze away from the window, focus on scrubbing the floorboards with clean strokes of a rag. I can't seem to scour through the grime. The tacky dirt. I toss the cloth in the plastic bucket, hustle back down the stairs and decide right there to take my delirious ass to the nearest grocery store.

*

The hour long bus ride into town is calm, if a bit surreal. I discover that in this small of a community, bus drivers are free to blast Whitney Houston without anyone batting a lash. Then again, the only other passenger is an elderly woman with a pet ferret.

The small town of Dream Hill has a West Coast charm that's soothing, with it's lustrous evergreen and oak, rolling farmland and quaint characters. A far cry from Seattle. A place that was too abrasive to stay in. High stress. Sickness in the head, the soul. A never-ending realm of anxiety between grey sky and pavement. The constant wash of rain never helped either.

I caved under the pressure. Deadline after deadline. Juggling two jobs and an internship that didn't pay. In the end, I had a mental breakdown. Dropped off the edge of the world, alienated from everyone besides my sister. I went from bubbly and optimistic to someone I didn't recognize anymore.

In what can only be divine timing, my inheritance was settled a month ago, a year after my grandma's passing. She left me a decent chunk of cash and her cabin. A place she rarely visited, though she and my grandpa spent a few red-hot summers there when they were young. She essentially freed me from my prison.

Even though my older sister inherited more money, I know I'm blessed to have this place. Pinch-me lucky. Falling apart or not, I'm ecstatic to have an escape route. A haven after so much turmoil.

After my bus arrives, I grab essential supplies (Borax, lightbulbs, actual food) from a cute, tiny grocery store. Then I visit the town square that has been swallowed up the farmer's market today. I browse each unique booth's wares: organically grown produce, homemade knick-knacks, baked goods, and the purest lilac perfume I've ever inhaled.

Everyone's so much...happier here. I feel almost closed off in comparison to the chattering, smile-filled crowd. All the booths are straight out of a homey Lifetime movie.

That is, except for the booth selling honey.

There's a women with midnight-coloured hair behind the stacked jars. Dark clothes and sunglasses to match, pale skin to contrast. Her arms crossed with boredom. Black wide-brimmed hat shielding her even further. Despite her don't fuck with me energy, she's clearly beautiful. Soft lips and high cheekbones. I find myself drawn to her table like a magnet.

I wander up to her booth, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze I can feel behind her shades. I lift up a jar to peek at the label: Dream Hill Honey in thick, bold font. Minimal design. Local. Organic. Nothing out of the norm here.

Then I read the address and my stomach shoots up my throat.

It's Kade's address. His honey.

I dry-swallow, setting down the jar. Try to seem unaffected, but the first thought that comes to mind now is whether or not this girl behind the booth is his girlfriend.

It would make sense, wouldn't it? I can see Kade and her glowering together in a corner somewhere, bitching about every passerby. They're perfect for each other. I need to respect that obvious compatibility. I trudge off from the table, my shoulders a little lower than before.

Why am I so deflated by this? Kade clearly wants nothing to do with me, and we've barely spoken more than a few irritable sentences to each other. Him and I have nothing. Nada.

Except for one little dream.

A dream that he has zero awareness of.

I decide to let the dream lay to rest right there. I straighten my spine, pull back my shoulders and make my way back to the bus stop. I sit down on a bright blue bench and try my best not to slump. If I slump, I'll feel bad. I can't afford to feel bad right now. Not when I have an entire house to renovate.

The pressure of that reality barrels into my sternum. I think of Kade's words: You ever done a day of manual labour in your life?

I slam that provocation down before it can bob up to sting me again.

I will renovate this house. I don't care what Kade says. Screw him and his goth girlfriend. I can do this!

*

I can't do this.

I'm currently under the kitchen sink. Sludge water dripping in my eyes, wrench in hand, trying to figure out how to make the damn pipes work.

I'm completely clueless. Worse yet, I don't even have wifi installed to figure it out. Looks like I'll have to take a trip to the local library tomorrow and go online there. I pull myself out from under the tap, and lay my forehead in my clammy hands. I glance at the humming lightbulb. On cue, it burns out. The setting sun is my only light source. It floods the kitchen red, slowly slipping away.

I'm actually going to cry. Day one and I'm already overwhelmed. I sniffle, smearing my nose and eyes with my purple hoodie sleeve.

What was I thinking? Just because I was an A student in college and high school doesn't mean I have the nearest inkling of how to fix a sink. My sister would be cackling her ass off if she saw me right now.

Thinking of her reaction makes me smile through the pain. I should call her soon. I lift to my knees and look out the kitchen window, wondering how Kade would react to seeing me like this. Faring exactly as he probably expected. I squint, trying to see past his oak trees, spying yet again on my mysterious neighbour.

Why am I being so creepy?

I rise to my feet. "Pull yourself together, Em. You're a tough, independent chick, even if you are a city girl."

Night falls. Candles are lit. A meal of potato chips and hummus goes down nicely, followed by another protein bar. I can't cook any of the real food I took home today because I don't know how to light a fire in the wood stove: another thing to look up at the library tomorrow.

I take the lantern I bought today out to the front patio, sitting on the steps to watch stars twinkle over the dark cedar horizon. Again, I look to the house on my right. Can't help but wonder what Kade's up to now.

Only one window shows signs of life.

The one where he's bare from the waist up, towel around his hips. Freshly out of the shower.

Shit. I quickly look away, pulse thrumming. If I can see the water glisten down his abs from here, he can definitely see me too.

It's just so very challenging to not look. I steal another glance, wondering if I would have spotted the goods if I had gotten to the patio a minute earlier.

I shouldn't be thinking this way about another woman's man. Any second now she could pop up to wrap her arms around him, and I'd be privy to something that I do not want to see: Kade with another girl.

Wow, here we are again. More evidence that I have a big, possessive, heart-palpitating crush. Over nothing. Instant and ridiculous.

Well, fuck that. I need to stop having one. I am going to get hurt, clearly. I might be fresh to the realm of hot desire but I've been around enough heartbroken women to know the consequences. It rarely ends well. In fact, I've never seen it end well. All the lasting relationships I've seen have been warm, simple, and comfortable. I'd describe my relationships that way too.

Then again, my cozy relationships didn't last long either.

As I soak in yet another secret glance, the facts hit me hard: none of them made my heart race. None traversed my dreams. None elicited jealousy or longing. None felt wild.

Isn't that supposed to be a good thing? Isn't instant flaming desire unhealthy?

I look towards the waning moon, a fraction less full than last night. It holds no answers.

Then, there's a taut whistle through the trees. The wind picking up, making the cedars sway. That same chill from last night comes over me, an ominous sensation bubbling in my blood, inching up my spine. I keep my eyes on the shifting tree-line, unable to rid the feeling of sudden dread.

It's like...something or someone in the woods is watching me.

Just then, the rain starts.

"Better get inside," I say under my breath, gathering my lantern, standing up.

It's in that moment that Kade and I make eye contact. A subtle electrocution. As if an invisible thread of energy between us has been activated. Transformed into lightning. His eyes are molten copper, engulfing me, singeing my insides. I stand there in the rain, watching him, watching him watch me.

I can't handle this. I rip my eyes away from him and retreat indoors.

*

This night is turning out to be a repeat of the last. An icy draft on my skin that I can't find the source of. Curled up on the couch, nervously reading a book that I can't absorb. Cold and desperately wishing I knew how to make the wood stove work.

The temperature drops surprisingly low here after sunset. I thought the summer nights would be toasty warm, even with rain, but here I am shivering under the blankets again.

I blow the candles out, leaving my cabin smelling like a birthday cake after wishes are made. My head hits the pillow and I sigh, listening to raindrops patter on the roof, thinking of my own wish I'd like granted: reprieve from this fresh torture of wanting someone I can't have.

I already received what I wanted, didn't I? A cabin getaway. Funds. Freedom. Why do new wants have to keep arriving? I barely had time to appreciate these gifts and my attention's already been diverted to the next hot thing.

Hot being the key word.

I groan, rolling over, immersing myself in as much blanket as possible. I force my mind and body to relax. Remembering the progressive muscle relaxation technique I learned off YouTube. Essential for surviving that period of extreme tension in the city.

I start with my toes. Relax, toes. Relax. Further up my ankles, calves, knees. Thighs. Relax. Relax. Relax. Imagining every muscle releasing, dissolving. When I arrive at my hips, I will myself to not immediately touch the needy place between my legs.

Well, at least I try for a few seconds. My hand drifts downwards, massages the ache there through my panties. My mind drifts too. Back to my dream, to Kade's hunger for me. My fingers circle lazily, a whispery moan on my lips-

Then I hear something scuttle across the floor.

No. I jerk my hand out of pyjama bottoms, horrified.

A mouse. A rat. Some sort of rodent. My whole body clenches up with fear as I chant the mantra of fuck fuck fuck fuck. I grab my phone, turn on the torch button and scan the blaring light over the room.

That's when I spot it. A small mouse skitters under the couch and the most hysterical scream bursts from my lungs. I stand on the couch, hyperventilating.

It's weird. One part of me is aware that I am overreacting. That I am ten times larger that this mouse. But here in the dark with only the light of my phone to see by, that part is very small. The other part feels completely attacked.

Just as I have built the courage to jump off the couch and cross the room to light my lantern, there's a knock at the door.

Knock is not the right word. A wrecking ball would be more subtle.

I leap off the couch, across the living room, skidding in my socks and nearly colliding into the wall. I rush down the hallway and open the front door.

It's Kade. Dripping rain. Taking up my entire doorway in a damp black shirt and jeans. A big hand comes up to shield his eyes from my cellphone flashlight.

"Oh, sorry." I lower my phone, immediately flustered by the height, heat and sheer potent energy of him. A fucking lighthouse of vitality. "What are you-"

"Why the hell were you screaming like a maniac?" he snaps.

"Uh, I..." His pissed tone has me flinching. "There's a mouse." I gesture vaguely behind me, feeling silly. "It went under the couch...."

"A mouse?" He peers over my shoulder. "That's it?" There's a touch of relief in his eyes.

"Yes..."

His shoulders loosen. "Jesus, I thought you were being fucking murdered over here."

"Sorry, I just can't see anything. My lights don't work." I mentally kick myself, not wanting him to know how completely inept I am at fixing things. "It's a lot scarier when you can't see anything." Sort of. I probably would have screamed either way.

"Wait." He places both hands on the door frame, leaning in slightly. "You mean, you don't have any electricity?"

"Well, some parts work. Like the fridge. And the attic."

He chuckles. A throaty, sensual thing. "So you're really roughing it out here. Gotta say," His voice lowers to a sardonic murmur. "I commend you for sticking it out this long, city girl."

I stiffen. Oh, I knew this was coming. That condescending, holier-than-thou, go-back-to-where-you-came-from schtick.

"Yes, surely it's a miracle." I start to close the door on him. "Goodbye now. Thanks for checking in-" A hand leaps out to catch the edge of the door. It won't budge, even as I attempt to slam it closed on his fingers.

"Do you want me to look at your circuit breakers?"

I don't know where that is. Plus there are more important matters at hand. I stop trying to crush his palm in the door and heave a breath, surrendering. "Would you mind dealing with the mouse first, country boy?"