Page 12 of Bred By the Beast

She glared at him. “You know, it doesn’t make a woman feel all that great when you keep threatening like that.”

“I helped you, sweetheart. Not the other way around.” He put the bear on the floor, and the little guy was curious. He did stop to have some water out of the dog’s water bowl. His dog, Fester, a chocolate labrador, was so lazy he came wandering into the kitchen. It took one look at the bear, paused, and then padded right back out. He adored that little dog.

“You have a dog?” she asked.

“I have three, actually. That grumpy sod is Fester. I’ve got two more I imagine are upstairs. Milly and Tilly, little Jack Russell terriers who are giant pains in the ass, but don’t believe in walking,” he said.

“Weren’t you worried about them last night?”

“I was, but it’s not the first time I’ve stayed out at night, and they know how to take care of themselves. I leave enough food for them, and they know how to get into it,” he said. “I’ve trained them well.” It also helped that he was an alpha. “Are you hungry?”

Her stomach chose that moment to growl and her face went beet red.

“Yes, I’m starving.”

He went to his fridge and grabbed some sausages, bacon, and eggs.

Without another word, he got to work cooking as Poppy just stood there. “You can go and take a shower if you’d like. I’ll have a change of clothes ready for you in the bedroom.”

She clearly had no idea what to say, but he sensed she was not going to argue with him. The clothes she wore had a horrible odor, from what he imagined was sweating in them the past few days.

“Where’s the shower?” she asked.

“Just down the hall, first door on the left.”

She nodded, then took off, and he couldn’t help but watch her ass as she left. He didn’t have any clothes for a woman. But he did have a few pairs of his old sweatpants.

Chapter Five

Poppy was grateful for the shower. She felt human again.

She put the clothes on that he’d left on the counter. A worn pair of joggers, a big t-shirt, flannel, and fuzzy socks. She hugged herself after dressing, loving that his scent surrounded her. They must all be his clothes. She felt very cozy as she padded out to the kitchen. The food smelled delicious, and she breathed in deeply.

He stopped what he was doing, seemingly frozen with a frying pan in his hand. The way he stared at her was unnerving.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He snapped back to the present, giving his head a little shake.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that my clothes look much better on you than they do on me.”

She smiled, then sat down on a stool by the little butcher-block kitchen island. The house was small, but rustic and homey. She loved it. It felt like she belonged there.

Poppy looked around the house from her vantage point. Everything was rustic wood, plaid, and furs. Masculine. There were no signs of a Mrs. Wilder, and that deeply satisfied her. She hadn’t come to the forest looking for love, but she wasn’t going to push it away if it came calling. Poppy had accepted the fact she’d be an old maid, cursed to watch other happy couples but never feel that love herself. Maybe she was meant to come here. Just maybe there was hope for her still.

Her host was incredibly handsome in the most rugged way. The classic strong, silent type, but she knew there was so much more under the surface. He may appear gruff and aloof, but he was kind to animals, gentle in unexpected ways, and the man had saved her life when he didn’t have to.

Wilder set a plate of food down in front of her and handed her a fork.

“Thank you,” she said. “It looks delicious.”

“It’s venison stew and roasted vegetables. I stock portions in the freezer. Nothing from a grocery store around here. While you’re my guest, it’s my job to feed you.”

As she ate, he kept watching her. It felt odd, but she didn’t overthink it. There was something growing between them and she prayed it wasn’t one-sided. If they were in the city, he’d be miles out of her league, but here there wasn’t much competition. They made small talk in-between bites. And it was surprisingly easy to talk to him.

“I’m excited to see your bees,” she said.

“You are? Do you like honey?”