Chapter Five: A Proposal

Sarah

I was cautiously optimistic. The job at Poppy’s Tavern was going very well. Most of the time I stayed in the back, working in the kitchen. I washed the dishes and cooked the food, trying to invent a new “special” every night. Poppy tended the bar and took the food orders.

At the end of every night, she paid me a small wage, in cash. Granted, it was far less than I would have made if she was paying me an hourly wage, but I was still grateful. And she had started splitting her tips with me too, because she claimed that folks were tipping a lot better since I had taken over preparing the food.

It was usually after nine before I made my way home, in the dark. Not that I minded the dark. As a werewolf, my night vision was sharp and clear. I enjoyed the sound of the night insects, the croaking frogs, the lonely hoot of an owl. It was a long walk, and even walking briskly it took me half an hour to reach my little camp in the woods. It was dark, quiet and undisturbed.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about hunting for something for my dinner. Poppy always let me take a bowl of whatever I had cooked for the evening. So I could sleep full and satisfied. Just as soon as I had a bath.

Working in a kitchen was hot, sweaty work. My clothes were stiff with dried sweat, and didn’t smell all that nice by the end of the night. Once I reached the clearing, I shucked off my clothes and balled them up in my lean-to, and then I walked, naked, through the tall grass to the edge of the little stream that bordered my forest home.

I had rearranged the stones to make a deep basin in the center, a place where I could sit and submerge myself up to my shoulders, and dunk my head under to wet my hair. The spring-fed brook was always icy cold, so I didn’t linger too long. I quickly shampooed my hair, and scrubbed my body, rinsed off, and jumped from the river with a shivering gasp.

“It’s not bad,” I told myself firmly. “It’s refreshing.” Back at the lean-to, I took out the small spray bottle of murky looking liquid, and spritzed it all over my body, from head to toe. It was a special herbal mixture that covered my scent, an extra precaution I took to keep anyone from tracking me.

To keep Felix from finding me, yet again.

I was just zipping the spray back in my backpack when I heard a noise on the edge of the clearing. I froze, and felt that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Oh no. Please no. Not again.

I stood slowly and scanned the edge of the woods, expecting to see Jasper or his goons grinning at me maliciously. But the shadowy form under the trees was too tall and too broad to be Jasper’s. Suddenly realizing I was still naked I snatched my blanket and wrapped it around my body. It was quicker than trying to fish out clean clothes. “Who are you?” I called out in a trembling voice. “What do you want?”

The figure moved from the shadows into the clearing, and I recognized the man from Poppy’s. The tall man who came with his son. I hadn’t seen them since my first night of employment, perhaps because I hadn’t left the kitchen since. I relaxed, but only slightly. Perhaps he was a friend of Jasper’s. Perhaps Jasper had sent him to harass me.

“Sorry, I was just hunting and,” he gestured around with his hand. “I heard a noise this way and followed the sound…”

He was staring. At me. At my lean-to. At the little ring of stones where I sometimes built a fire. “You live here?”

“Yeah, well,” I tightened the blanket around my breasts. “This is only temporary. I’m kind of between places right now…”

“I can see that,” he stepped closer, moving soundlessly despite the fact that he had rather large feet and wore thick-soled military boots. His shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing a V of his bare, muscular chest. My eyes got caught there, mentally wishing I could undo the rest of the buttons, to see what else was hiding underneath. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time of it.”

My eyes snapped back to his face, and I narrowed them suspiciously. “You heard it, from who?”

He shrugged. “From Poppy.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile, revealing a hint of a dimple in his left cheek. “But she’s not one to gossip.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not.”

He took another step closer, and my breath hitched in my chest. For the first time since he stepped in the clearing, I perceived that I might actually be in danger. His aura was strong, his eyes were sharp, and his body was chiseled from pure muscle. If he attacked, there would be little chance for me to escape. I couldn’t out-fight him. I doubted I could outrun him.

My fingers twitched. I had only one advantage.

“I’ve been wanting to speak to you, actually,” he took another step closer, until less than a foot separated our bodies. I tucked my right hand behind my back and stared up at him. His eyes were black, the pupils and the irises indistinguishable.

They would be terrifying, if not for the fact that he had long, curling eyelashes.

“Speak to me?” I wanted to step back again, but this time my back hit the rough bark of the white pine I had built my lean-to against.

“Yes,” he was so close I could feel his warm breath against my cheeks. My heart was racing, and my breath was coming fast, but it wasn’t exactly fear that I was feeling. His voice was low, and a little rough as he spoke.

“I have a proposal.”