Chapter 4

Isobel woke up to noises of banging and sawing outside the cabin. Her bare feet touched the wooden floors as she sat on the bed. Isobel’s full length nightshirt had ridden up during the night, showing deep scars on her upper thigh. Her hand touched the scars that were also on her side before pushing down the night shirt to cover the ones on her thigh. Rising up from the bed, she strode toward the noise that had woken her. The shadows that darkened the cabin showed that the sun was still rising, so who was making a ruckus so early in the morning?

Opening the front door, her toes touched the threshold. Her lips parted in a gasp as her gaze took in Kyle with his shirt off, his wide chest glistening with sweat. His shirt was tucked in the back pocket of his jeans. Kyle had taken apart the worn and rotten porch steps and was now busy putting up new wooden boards. Stepping onto the porch, she placed her hands on her hips.

“Wha-” her lips opened and closed as she tried to figure out why a stranger she met yesterday was now fixing her porch steps. “What are you doing?”

 Kyle stopped sawing the wooden floor board. Removing the black Kevlar gloves he was wearing, he brushed back his sweat stained hair. His chocolatey-brown eyes burned a slow appraisal of her, from the tip of her toes that peeked out of the full length shirt, up to her full hips, round belly, collarbone and then finally settling on her eyes.

Kyle’s left eyebrow lifted. A sensual smile curling up his lips. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m fixing your steps.”

Her mouth fell open at his words. “But why?” Her hands raised above her head. “And so early in the morning?”

“I wanted to get the stairs ready for you before you woke up. I’m almost done. Just a couple of floorboards left.”

 He went back to slicing up the wooden board with a manual saw while she stood there gaping at him. Ashley didn’t know if she should be concerned that a guy she didn’t know took apart her porch stairs while she was sleeping and was now handling dangerous tools near her or be thankful for his thoughtfulness about her safety. She decided that it was too early for such contemplations without her morning tea.

She spoke out loud so that he heard her over the saw sounds. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. Would you like some?”

“Coffee?”

The tip of her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. “Um, I don’t have coffee, but I have some black tea I could make you?”

A slow affectionate smile curved his face. “Black tea sounds good. No cream or sugar, thanks.”

Isobel stood there for a minute, taking in his muscles, contracting with the movement of the saw. Blinking, she remembered that she had to put the kettle on the stove to make the tea.

The whistling sound of the boiling kettle broke through the licentious thoughts she was having about the sweating masculine man that was outside hammering nails into her porch steps. Sighing, she stood from the kitchen table to make the teas. Isobel always tried to stay clear of any intimacy with another person. The scars that marred her upper thigh, right side of her stomach and the right side of her arm were deep, dark and twisted. When she was sixteen and was fooling around with her first boyfriend; she felt brave enough to let him pull up her blouse. For him to see the scars that she had hidden since she was ten. His face had twisted with disgust at seeing them and had turned away from her. The next day, he had made up some sorry excuse to break up with her. Since then, she never let anyone close enough to be cruel because of her wounds. Wounds that she didn’t even remember how she got. She woke up in a hospital bed wrapped in gauze and had no memory of what happened to her. She had asked her parents, but all they said was she was in an accident and she mustn’t dwell too much into it. That was the last time she had visited her grandfather’s cabin until his death.

Picking up the tray with both their teas, Isobel padded through the sitting room to the porch. She placed the tray on the small wicker table. “Tea is ready.”

Kyle nimbly jumped onto the porch. His movement graceful and agile, like a wolf stalking its prey. Sitting down on the wicker chair, her hand slightly shook as she picked up her teacup, her heart beating fast in her chest. What was it with Kyle that made her want to throw caution to the wind and let him have his way with her? Her libido was normally dormant, but now it was slowly stirring, creating an itch deep in her belly.

Kyle stared at the dainty porcelain teacup, his eyes narrowed before using his thumb and index finger to pick up the cup. “Thanks for the tea.”

Her cheeks heated and her gaze fell to the floor. Studying the ridges in the wood. “My pleasure. It’s nothing compared to what you are doing.” Her hand swept toward the porch steps that were nearly complete.

Kyle scoffed. “I couldn’t let you keep going down those rotten steps. You could have broken something.”

“Well, it’s too much for someone I’d just met yesterday.”

His eyes met hers before gazing at her face. The upper corner of his lips turned up. “For you. It’s nothing.” He coughed as if embarrassed by his words before taking a gulp of his tea.

“Since you’ve decided to do manual labor around my grandfather’s cabin, why don’t you tell me about yourself, Kyle?”

“I-uh.” He raked his hand through his dark brown hair. “Why is it so hard to talk about one’s self?” A sheepish smile crossed his face. She shrugged and then tipped up her chin to indicate that he must keep going.

 He heaved a loud sigh. “I live in a small settlement not too far from your cabin. My father sort of runs the place. We are a group of maybe a hundred people. We are a tight-knit community that keeps to ourselves. Carpentry is my trade and I sell some woodwork at a place in town.

She leaned closer to him. Her chin on her hand. “Woodwork? How cool. What sort of work do you sell?”

A ruddy color coated his cheeks. “Some furniture. Tourist trinkets like chains, book rests and wooden containers with some artwork on them.” His shoulders hunched together. “Those sorts of things. Nothing major.

Without even thinking, her hand reached out and touched his. “No. Don’t do that. That is major. That’s art. You are an artist.”

He gazed at her hand on his. His thumb slowly rubbed the underside of her hand. “I never thought of myself as an artist. It’s just something that I do. I’m good with my hands.”

Thoughts of what he could do with his hands made a warm buzzing feeling erupt in the pit of her stomach. She moved her hand away from his and cupped her porcelain cup. The tea had cooled while they talked.

A boyish smile tipped up his mouth as he gazed back at her. “What about you? How long are you staying at your grandfather’s cabin?”

She took a sip of the tepid tea before replied. “I’m here for the summer. I’m hoping to get some painting done while packing up granddaddy’s things.”

“You are a painter?”

“Yes. I mean, I gave up four years of my life doing a Fine Arts degree. And I have my first exhibition coming up.”

Her body tensed at the thought that she hadn’t put anything down on a canvas for months now and the timeline for her art show was slowly creeping in.

“Huh, are you okay?” Kyle asked as he placed his hand on her knee. “Your heart rate picked up there for a moment.”

“My heart rate? Can you hear my heart?”

Kyle’s head dipped down like he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “I mean, your chest rose and your breathing changed. As if you were scared of something.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I haven’t painted anything significant lately and I’m afraid my show will flop. This is my one big break. If I fail at this…I don’t even want to think about it.” She shook her head, her tawny curls brushing against her back.

“Then don’t think about it. Just feel and paint what feels right. I know that if I get in my head about a project, it never comes out right. It just comes out like a jumbled mess of doubts and insecurities.”

Her lips turned up into a smile. “Yes. That does sound a bit right. My paintings have been one giant mess of doubts.”

Kyle turned toward her, the hand on her knee tightening its grip. “I don’t know much about painting, but next time, close your eyes and just paint what you are feeling at that moment and see what will happen.”

Amusement danced in her eyes. “Paint with my eyes closed. Hmm, my art teachers never mentioned that in their classes.”

Redness darkened his cheeks as he dipped his head in embarrassment. “You know what I mean. It will quiet your inner critic.” He shrugged. “It was just a suggestion.”

She chuckled, showing a slightly crooked front tooth. “Right now, I’ll take any suggestions. I’ll try it out and let you know how it went.”

A dimpled formed in his right cheek as he grinned. His heart swelled with joy at seeing his mate laugh and joke with him. His wolf purring in his head. Kyle had slept again in his wolf form at her cabin. He knew that he’ll not get a good night’s sleep until he had claimed her. Before the sun had broken through the dark sky, he had been at his cabin collecting the materials and tools needed to build porch stairs.

The thought of her foot breaking through the rotten floorboards of her steps had kept him awake for most of the night. His wolf pacing and snarling at the thought of his mate hurt or injured. He had tried to be as quiet as he could while tearing apart the stairs and sawing new boards, but somehow the noises had awoken her.

Watching her stand on the porch, her face soft from sleep, her tawny curls tumbling down her shoulders, he knew that she held his soul in her tiny hands. The full length white nightshirt had barely hidden her ample hips and breasts. His cock hardened with desire as his eyes had trailed her form from the tips of her toes to her dark brown eyes.

Now, with his hand on her knee. It felt like he was getting jolts of electricity up his body, but at the same time, his body felt like he had splashed through a cool body of water on a hot summer day. The distinct sensations made him want to howl at the sky. Joy, excitement, hope and horniness all warring inside him. Kyle took a whiff of her delicious scent of orange blossoms and honeysuckle. He suppressed the need to tear apart the nightshirt she had on and mount her like the wolf he was. He certainly didn’t want to scar her for life with his animalistic impulses. Every night, he wondered why the Moon Goddess fated him with a human. Normally, when wolf shifters met their mate, they both felt the pull of the mate bond and disappeared for weeks marking and fucking each other mindlessly, But Isobel was human and didn’t feel the mate bond and now he had to try to win her affections slowly. Goddess, he hoped he could do it. He’d never had to date before. He was a beginner trying to win at a professional game. Kyle shook off the discouraging thoughts and smiled at his mate, who looked at him with a shy smile on her face.

Noises of a person in the forest and the smell of a wolf shifter made him tilt his head to the right. Nick was here again. Probably sent by his father.

Kyle reluctantly moved his hand off her knee. “I have to finish the steps and then go home.”

The smile on her face slipped off. “Oh. Of course. And I have to get ready for the day, anyway.”

Standing up, she collected the teacups, her falling hair shielding her face from him. Before he knew it, he had risen and gently tugged her hair behind her ear. Heat burned through him as her eyes met his. “Thanks for the tea,” he said, his voice sounding low and rough.

 His eyes fall to her full lips, brownie-pink and pouty, ready for a kiss. The tip of her tongue peeked out and licked her lower lip. The heat now pooled in his groin. His wolf brushed against his skin, threatening to come out and take what was his. Only his. Closing his eyes, he forced down his wolf, hoping that if he opened them, there would be his normal brown instead of golden.

“You’ve already thanked me.”

His fingers played with a strand of her hair. “Yes, I guess I did,” he smiled. “I should let you take those to the kitchen, and I should really finish those steps.” Plus, Nick was getting impatient waiting behind the trees.

Her eyes took a darker hue. Standing on her tip-toes, she gently pressed her lips to his. Before he could lay his hands on her to deepen the kiss, she broke it off and scampered to the front door, pushed in and slammed the door closed behind her.