A Taste of Honey Page 2

  She shrugged again. “Excited? I can’t say that I am. It’s hard to be excited when I know exactly what I’m getting into. Waiting tables isn’t exactly the most thrilling profession in the world.”

  “Sounds like you’re ready for a change,” he said, gripping the edge of the door as she settled into her seat and fastened the seatbelt, which strapped snugly across her chest, settling into the valley between her breasts and rendering them that much more impossible not to notice. The sight combined with his memories of her unflinching courage and culinary abilities almost brought him to his knees. He made a small sound in his throat as he forced himself to take a step backward. She was definitely selling herself short by pursuing a job she didn’t want – if only he could get her to see it that way.

  She shrugged again and he eased the door shut, resisting the urge to glance at her through the windshield as he rounded the truck – he could at least go for two seconds without looking at her.

  “Thanks again for the ride,” she said when he climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the keys in the ignition.

  “My pleasure,” he said, backing out of the parking lot and easing out into the busy street, eager to escape the crowded tourist town and reenter the wilderness where they could be truly alone together, even if they were only riding in the truck, making small talk. “I wasn’t busy this evening anyway – if it weren’t for this, I probably would’ve just spent an hour or two fishing.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “I didn’t mean to intrude upon your fishing time.”

  She sounded so serious and so genuinely apologetic that he almost laughed. “It’s not a big deal. I fish all the time in a stream near my house; it’s not anything special to me.”

  That seemed to reassure her a little; she looked up, turning her gaze toward him.

  A light turned red and instead of being annoyed, he savored the opportunity to meet her eyes. “I’ve got all day tomorrow to fish – it’s my day off.” His tongue loosened as he stared, locked in contact with her beautiful blue eyes. It was so easy to remember them flashing with fierceness that day deep in the mountains, then with soft concern later that night as she’d made meals for her pack. “You’re welcome to come along – I could show you all the best fishing holes on the mountain.” He was grasping at straws and he knew it – after all, she might not want to go fishing. Generally, bear shifters loved fishing … but she wasn’t a bear.

  “That sounds great.” She smiled, kindling a spark of satisfaction inside him.

  A horn blared loudly from somewhere behind the truck.

  The light was green. Ronnie pressed a foot to the accelerator. How long had it been since the traffic light had changed? Long enough that another driver had become annoyed enough to express their feelings – on this packed tourist road, that probably meant he’d been idling at the green light for two seconds, three tops. He proceeded down the road, unconcerned.

  “Have you ever fished before?” He glanced at Violet.

  “A few times when I was a kid,” she replied.

  That seemed like a shame – there was probably some spectacular fishing to be done in Alaska. But she wasn’t a bear, so he couldn’t really blame her for not taking advantage of the opportunity. Bears and wolves were different – he knew that. It was just that when he was with Violet, it didn’t usually feel that way. In fact, spending time alone with her would’ve been downright comfortable if it hadn’t been for his relentless erection.

  As he changed lanes, squeezing in between a sedan and another pick-up, his cock remained resolutely semi-hard, aching as he gripped the wheel and tried to let himself be distracted by the flashy tourist attractions and distant scenery – anything that might keep thoughts of tasting and touching her at bay. Every once in a while he let himself have a sideways glance at her. His mouth grew drier every time he looked. Somehow, he couldn’t think of anything to say – at least, not anything appropriate. And the silence became more tense with each passing second. “Right,” he finally said, as if that meant anything.

  His next sideways glance revealed Violet flashing a small smile in his direction. Pulling his gaze from the perfect cupid’s bow of her lips required supreme force of will, and when he succeeded he didn’t dare look away from the busy stream of traffic again, for safety’s sake.

  Until her stomach growled anyway, a low rumbling that was unmistakable inside the truck’s silent cab.

  “Hungry?” he asked, noticing a hollow feeling in his own middle for the first time. He hadn’t eaten since noon – normally, he would’ve started thinking about dinner as soon as he’d clocked out after his shift, but thoughts of Violet had left no room for other cravings, even hunger.

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” She laughed, sounding nervous. “I was too busy getting ready for my interview to eat lunch.”

  “Would you like to get something to eat?” For the first time, he began to eye the passing buildings with appraising interest. There were restaurants – dozens upon dozens of them, all places where he might spend an extra hour or so with Violet. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

  “Sure, I mean, if you’re hungry too.”

  “Sure,” he echoed her, resisting the urge to veer off the street and into the nearest parking lot. Upon closer inspection, it looked like some kind of burger stand boasting an awning and a few outdoor tables. He could do better than that. “What kind of food do you like?”

  “I’m not picky.”

  “There’s an Italian place coming up.” It loomed a couple hundred yards ahead, its red and white sign calling to him like a siren. Everyone liked Italian food, right? And the restaurant’s pillared entrance even looked sort of romantic – especially compared to a hamburger stand.

  “Sounds good, as long as it’s nothing too fancy.” She plucked at her pant leg. “I’m not exactly dressed to the nines.”

  “You look fantastic,” he said, “and don’t worry – tourists pour in and out of these restaurants in t-shirts and jeans all day.” She did look fantastic – beautiful and classy, someone no tourist could possibly hope to hold a candle to, whatever she wore.

  She didn’t say anything. Could she tell how difficult it was for him to resist staring? He guided the truck off the street, taking the first empty space he found in the Italian restaurant’s parking lot.

  They crossed the pavement together and he was aware of her every step and movement – even the way she tucked a lock of chocolate-brown hair behind her ear – as they approached the restaurant. When they entered, a hostess greeted them with a polite smile. “Table for two?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, aware that people were staring. At 6’4” and bulky besides, people often looked twice in his direction, especially when he wore his uniform. But as he towered over the petite hostess, following her to a table, the stares weren’t meant for him. Surely not. Who’d waste time looking at him when Violet was at his side? The restaurant’s subdued lighting complimented her features, casting shadows with soft edges, much like the light of a Smoky Mountain sunrise. His pulse hammered at the thought of waking up beside her and studying her pretty face as it was bathed in the golden light that fell through his bedroom windows each morning. Maybe dinner had been a bolder suggestion than he’d realized.

  “This is nice,” Violet said after the hostess seated them. “The scents coming from the kitchen are amazing.”

  “Yeah.” He sat across from her like an idiot, tongue-tied as the diners that surrounded them made easy conversation with each other. Why couldn’t he make small talk like that – why couldn’t he keep his thoughts in the here and now instead of imagining what it would be like to wake up beside her? As he met her eyes, he felt like an animal despite the fact that he was in his human form.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  He didn’t notice the waitress until she spoke, standing just a couple feet from his elbow.

  “Water, please.” It might have been romantic to have a glass of wine with Violet, but he couldn’t d
o that in his uniform, and he might be laying it on too thick anyway. After all, she’d only asked him to drive her to a job interview.

  “I’ll have the same,” Violet said.

  While they waited for their food to arrive, he managed to make a little light conversation, most of it centering around the cabin addition he’d been helping Jack build. It was easy to talk about construction and the baby Jack and Mandy were expecting, though a dangerous undercurrent whirled through his thoughts, presenting him with images of him and Violet living together in his cabin, maybe having a family of their own someday.

  He was getting way, way ahead of himself. What were the odds of a wolf and a bear being destined mates? A voice in the back of his mind supplied a steady stream of doubt and it combined with his hopes, causing his stomach to ball up. He wanted her to be the one – he wanted it bad. Maybe too badly for his own good.

  When the food came – lasagna for him and tortelloni with braised short ribs for her – it didn’t provide as much distraction as he’d hoped. It was hot and tasty, but as he cut away a cheese-laden bite with his fork, he couldn’t help but recall that bloody October night when Violet had come out of Jack’s cabin balancing several heaping paper plates. She’d doubled them up to make them easier to carry and to prevent the maple syrup from soaking through, but Ronnie’s plate had been just about saturated anyway by the time he’d been able to stop working and take time to eat.

  Still, he’d savored the meal, holding the slightly-warm plate in his hands and imagining that it was Violet’s heat that warmed his fingers, not the food. And maybe it had been – his pancakes had been fairly cold by then, chilled by the autumn night.

  He’d devoured them anyway, eager to taste something she’d made and wanting even more badly to taste her. Cold and syrup-saturated or not, the pancakes and eggs had warmed him from the inside out and not a day had gone by since then that he hadn’t imagined what it would be like to share his kitchen with her each morning. He could even cook for her, or they could make breakfast together – it didn’t matter. He just couldn’t shake the idea of having her to himself, of getting to know the she wolf who was somehow so fierce and so caring, not to mention modest. Too modest, even. The more he got to know her, the more obvious it became that she underestimated herself.

  “How’s your lasagna?”

  “It’s great.” He took a long drink of his water, hoping it would cool the heat that flared up inside him each time she spoke or even looked in his direction. “How’s your meal?”

  “Delicious. I’ll have to tell the others about this place.”

  The others. Her pack was like her family, much as his tribe was to him. Thinking of them reminded him of the differences between himself and Violet. Differences that didn’t seem so important when he thought about the qualities he admired in her, but might just throw sand on the flame of attraction between them anyway. His next mouthful of water tasted strangely bitter and left him aching for sweetness strong enough to chase it away – sweetness he might just find on her perfect lips.

  Chapter 2

  “Thanks again for dinner,” Violet said as Ronnie guided the truck out of the restaurant parking lot and back onto the main drag. “You really didn’t have to pay for mine.” A pang of guilt had assailed her when he’d pulled out his wallet and insisted on covering the entire check. The waitress hadn’t even asked them if they’d wanted separate bills – obviously, she’d assumed they were a couple. While that notion sent tidal-waves of warmth and giddiness through Violet, she didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness. After all, he hadn’t suggested going out for dinner until her stomach had growled. When she remembered that, the whole situation seemed embarrassing, though she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Dinner with Ronnie had been wonderfully date-like – was that what it had been?

  “I wanted to.” He only looked away from the road to meet her eyes for a moment, but his warm, dark gaze paralyzed her in the truck seat, reminding her of how he’d kept his eyes on her throughout their meal together, acting as if he hadn’t even noticed the looks the waitress – not to mention all the other women in the restaurant – had been shooting in his direction.

  “Well thanks,” she said lamely, gripping the hem of her top and running the pad of her thumb over the smooth cotton weave.

  “Anytime,” he said, then fixed her with another one of those brief but heart-jolting looks. “And I mean that.”

  Her gaze drifted to his hands, which rested on the wheel. Not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to feel them against her bare skin. Or through her clothes, on her body, period. Either way … she ached at the thought of feeling his touch. Had the notion of touching her ever crossed his mind? The way he looked at her often made her think it had. But she was no expert at reading people, especially men, and how could she trust her own judgment when his scent clouded her thoughts whenever she was in his presence, dulling her inhibitions and intensifying her fantasies?

  Maybe she needed to spend less time thinking about what she hoped would happen between them and more time steeling herself against possible disappointment. Maybe, but it was beyond difficult to do, especially when she was sitting beside him, still glowing from their dinner together.

  Her cell phone broke the silence as she and Ronnie left Gatlinburg behind, speeding up as they sailed down a less crowded, tree-lined road.

  “Hello?”

  April’s voice resounded from the other end of the connection. “Hey, I thought you’d be home by now.”

  “Ronnie and I stopped for dinner.”

  “Oh.” Violet could practically hear the wheels turning in her sister’s head. She’d tried not to be obvious, but who was she kidding? The entire pack probably noticed how she blushed every time Ronnie entered a room. “Will you be home anytime soon?”

  “Yes,” Violet hurried to say, anxious to dispel any notions April might have of her staying out late with Ronnie. Not that she hadn’t been day-dreaming about that during every mile of their journey.

  “Well, we’re all heading down to Jack and Mandy’s cabin. They finished decorating the nursery and we’re going to take a look and spend the evening with them. You can have Ronnie drop you off there instead of at our place if you’d like.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks for letting me know.”

  After a quick goodbye, Violet slipped her phone back into her purse. “The rest of the pack is going to spend the evening at Jack and Mandy’s. Would you mind dropping me off at their cabin instead of mine?”

  “No problem. I’ve been meaning to stop by and see Jack anyway.”

  Violet wasn’t able to suppress a small smile – this meant that she’d probably be spending the rest of the evening with Ronnie, even if it was in the others’ company.

  * * * * *

  Breathtaking. That was how Violet looked in the firelight. It cast a cheery glow across her features, infusing her eyes with warmth and casting her lips in soft relief. Ronnie stared as if hypnotized, watching her mouth move as she spoke to her sister, April.

  Wild scents teased his nostrils – wood smoke, decaying leaves and cool mountain breezes that carried every sort of forest aroma one could think of. And his imagination was wilder yet, his animal side brought to life by Violet’s presence and the sheer bliss of being outdoors, sitting beside her under a late-evening sky on a log Jack had hefted out of the nearby woods to use as a makeshift fireside bench. All he could think about was how sweet her mouth might be, how the taste of wild honey would be the perfect dessert to complement the meal they’d eaten together at the Italian restaurant.

  “The food was delicious, wasn’t it Ronnie?”

  The sound of his name on Violet’s lips snapped him out of his trance. “Yeah, it was.” He agreed even though the memory of the food appealed to him about as much as a mouthful of ash from the fire. It had been good at the time, but now he craved her – what he hoped he might find in her – pure and simple.

  “We should go there s
ometime,” Violet said to April. “Maybe to celebrate whenever you get your acceptance letter from that college you just applied to.”

  “I don’t know if I will get an acceptance letter,” April said.

  Violet shook her head. “You will.”

  Ronnie was so absorbed in watching Violet that he barely noticed April grin despite the fact that he’d helped her choose which college to apply to so that she could get the education she’d need to have a chance at her goal of becoming a park ranger.

  “Okay, it’s a plan then,” April said. “Whenever I get my acceptance letter, we’ll all go.”

  The sisters’ conversation continued for a while and was pleasant enough, but Ronnie couldn’t focus on it or work up the presence of mind to participate. Instead, he studied the texture of Violet’s sweater, his gaze pouring over the tiny waffle-weave. Mandy had leant the cardigan to Violet, but it just didn’t seem right. At least, not as right as the idea of wrapping his arms around her and keeping her warm with his body heat seemed. He didn’t know yet if they were truly compatible as mates, but some subconscious, animal part of him was already convinced that they were meant to be, and it was as alarming as it was exciting.

  As Jack added another log to the fire, the flames flared, shedding brighter light on Violet’s face as vivid orange sparks danced overhead, burning brighter than the emerging stars for just moments before dying. One lasted longer than the others and arced down, landing on Ronnie’s leg.

  He hurried to press his palm over it, suffocating it before it could singe a hole in his uniform pants. The tiny kiss of heat stung his palm and sent fire creeping through his veins as he returned his gaze to Violet.

  She turned to look at him, meeting his eyes. The pain from the spark was already gone but its warmth lingered inside him, causing his nerves to hum with anticipation as imagined sweetness caused his mouth to water. The others were lost in conversation – no one was looking at him and Violet, and it felt dangerously as if they’d entered their own little fireside world. His gaze was drawn to her mouth and he almost leaned forward to press his lips against it, to crush them against hers and finally stop the endless wondering. Almost, but not quite. The others would notice, and as her eyes locked with his, he was struck by the gut-wrenching certainty that if he didn’t find what he was looking for in their first kiss, he wouldn’t be able to keep it together.