"Decorating?" Zoe wrinkled her nose as she looked at him. "What do I know about decorating?"
"I thought..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Don't women like decorating houses? You can pick out curtains and lamps and stuff."
Zoe laughed, resting her temple on her knees, still drawn up to her chest, and studied his profile. "Uh, no. I can barely match my shoes."
"Noah will be disappointed," he said under his breath. "He wanted you to class the place up a bit."
She made a face and tried a sideways shrug. "I can google the hell out of it. Rustic cabin decor. Country chic. Backcountry cottage."
He snorted, dangerously close to a face-cracking smile, and something in Zoe's chest eased. Maybe he didn't resent her. Maybe the next couple of weeks would be a good distraction instead of a terrifying hell of hiding under her bed without an Internet connection. Her phone hadn't registered a signal for hours.
"Country chic," he said. "That's definitely us," and he gestured over his shoulder at the three bruisers snoring away in the backseat.
Zoe straightened enough to glance back at them, the three guys with their mouths hanging open and limbs all akimbo, then looked back at Simon. "Are you guys related?"
"Not really." He slowed the car again to take a switchback as they started gaining altitude. "I know Ethan from the sameplace I know Tate, and Cooper and I went to high school together. Finn showed up one summer and never left. And Noah, who's back at the lodge, is a distant cousin. He ran into some trouble and needed a place to lay low for a while. I have a habit of collecting strays." And he sighed.
Zoe felt about as low as possible in the jacked-up truck. Another stray. Another burden for Simon's giant shoulders. Her head rested against the seat and she resigned herself to a long month of trying not to fall in love with him. Since she was only a stray.
3
SIMON
Simon rose with the dawn, a habit beaten into him by too many years in the military. Life without discipline was dangerous. Sloppy habits led to sloppy decision-making, and sloppy decision-making got people killed. He walked the perimeter of their immediate property, a quick jog that left his scent around the place to hopefully scare the other predators away, and then went back inside the lodge to start breakfast for the two guests.
Luckily Tate's call came during a lull in business. They hadn't been overflowing with guests, so Simon had an extra room for the girl. She'd been up most of the night, finally turning out her light at three in the morning. He heard her moving around, and remained ready to interdict her if she made a run for it, but in the end he only heard a little bit of snuffling that could have been tears. He gave her the room next to his so he could keep an ear out for any escape attempts — or assassination attempts, if things went badly.
He felt like a jerk already, after the abrupt way their conversation in the car ended. He couldn't quite figure outwhy, but he must have said or done something that offended her. Zoe barely whispered two words to him even after they arrived and he showed her where she would stay, only a soft 'Thank you' before she retreated to the small but cozy room. Simon frowned at the burner on the stove as it refused to light, leaning down to check the gas line before getting out a match.
Simon shook his head as he poured muffin batter into a tin. She was so jumpy, so damn skittish. He wanted to talk to her, to figure out how she looked at the world, to figure out why a shot of excitement raced through him every time he touched her. But she'd clamped her mouth shut and stared into the night with a pensive look on her face, worry creating lines across her forehead.
Ethan and Cooper stirred in the back of the lodge, shambling out in their pajamas, and silently ate their oatmeal and bacon and bowls of fruit. Then they disappeared again to get dressed and start work. The tourists wouldn't be up for another hour, most likely, and then would take a nature walk around the lodge. Simon glanced at his watch. Almost seven, and no sign of the girl. He'd told her to be up early before he shooed her off to bed, but she barely acknowledged he spoke. She looked dazed, a little off-kilter, and he wondered if she were actually as steady with her situation as Tate seemed to think. Being hunted by international criminals would be enough to throw anyone off their game, and Zoe didn't strike him as an even-keeled person to start with.
At half-past seven, he climbed the massive staircase to the second level of the lodge, the great-room open behind him, and took a right and then a left to the back of the house. He kept the big room with the great corner views in the back right of the house for himself, and gave her the space next to it, closer to the front of the lodge. The guests all stayed onthe other side of the house, and the rest of his guys slept downstairs in the back. Simon wanted to build a few smaller cabins behind the lodge, so his guys could make better dens to manage their bears, but so far they didn't have the revenue to support new construction. Soon, though, or at least he hoped.
He knocked on her door, listening for anything stirring inside. Nothing. He knocked again and heard a grumbled, "Not now."
Simon edged the door open and poked his head in. "Hey. Time to get up."
She sprawled across the queen size bed in yoga pants and a t-shirt with a cartoon character on it, dark hair tangled across the pillows, and he abruptly had to revise his assessment of her age. Definitely not a kid. The backpack and sweatshirt she'd worn the night before hid some womanly curves, emphasized by the tight t-shirt and the gentle swell of her hips. He looked away before his thoughts drifted elsewhere, and knocked on the inside wall a little louder. "Time to get up, Zoe. Work starts early around here."
"You're nuts," she said, lifting her head enough to give him a jaundiced, one-eyed look. But she didn't move or cover herself up. "It's only seven. Normal people don't get up before noon."
He made an irritated noise, though it had more to do with the fact that he needed to stay behind the door to hide his interest in her than her reluctance to get out of bed. His bear very much wanted to crawl in with her and spend the rest of the day getting to know every inch of her. Simon struggled for control, his voice deepening as she moved and the t-shirt stretched across her breasts and her nipples slowly stood out against the thin fabric. "Zoe, I will dump a bucket of ice water on you if you're not downstairs in ten minutes."
She lifted her head again to peer at him. "You don't let the strays sleep in?"
Simon blinked, trying to formulate a retort, but she struggled free from the tangled sheets and marched up the door to pat his chest. "I'll be downstairs in half an hour."
She started to shut the door in his face but Simon blocked it with his boot and his shoulder. The bear might like her but he ran a tight ship, and everyone worked for their keep. Even if she smelled so good it drove him wild. "You're not a guest. You're here to work."
"Thought I wasn't supposed to touch anything?" She sounded fierce for something so small and soft and sleepy, her hair standing up and pillow wrinkles marking her cheek.
God, he wanted her to touch something, all right. Simon cleared his throat and struggled to remain composed. The guests would be up any minute and he didn't have time to show her exactly how he felt about her staying in bed all day. He wouldn't get a lick of work done if his bear was distracted by her all snuggled up and cozy. Maybe putting her in the room next to his was a terrible idea. "You're helping make breakfast for the guests, then you can weed the garden."
Her nose wrinkled into an expression so damn adorable his bear grumbled about letting her go back to sleep in his bed. Safer that way. None of the other bears would get any ideas about her. Zoe tried again to shut the door. "Manual labor isn't really my thing. I'm more of a white collar numbers kind of girl, see?"
Simon gripped the door, unmoving despite that she put her full effort into shoving him into the hall. It was kinda cute, maybe, her feet sliding on the floor as she leaned her entire body into trying to push him out. Simon frowned. "And how did that white collar stuff work out for you? On the run? Hiding out? I don't run a charity, girl, and you're going to work for your keep."
