“Back pocket.” I frown at the gravel. It’s moving.

His arms wrap around me, one settling on my lower back. Warm fingers slide against my butt as he searches my right pocket.

“Wrong one.” I giggle, the wide grin on my face no doubt idiotic.

His hand quickly retreats and searches the other one, pulling out the card.

“You touched my bum. You should at least tell me your name.”

He pauses, his eyes on the key and the door. With a sigh, he offers, “It’s Henry.”

“Hmm... Henry.” I lean—okay, fall—against his chest and rope my arms around his waist in a hug. Tipping my head back to see his striking face illuminated under the cabin door light, I whisper, “So, about that thing we were talking about.”

His jaw tenses but in his eyes, I’m sure I see amusement dance. A gentle tug against my braid has my head dipping farther back. My lips part as he leans down, preparing myself for a kiss. “Stop baiting me and go to sleep.”

I give him my best pout, but truthfully I’m beginning to feel dizzy. I need to lie down now. “Fine. Thank you for getting me home and not letting me fall into that icy water. By the way, my name’s Abbi. Some people call me Abigail, but I hate it. So, if I ever see you again, don’t call me that.”

His perfect mouth is right there, so close to me that I can smell mint on his minty breath. And I want to taste it. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so bad in my life as I want to feel and taste his lips right now.

Before I lose my chance, I stretch up on my tiptoes and skate my lips over his, the edge of his scruff tickling me. He exhales against my skin and I close my eyes, shivering with the sensation. He hasn’t pulled away yet though, and so I forge on, running my tongue over his lips once before pressing my mouth against his, capturing his top lip between mine in a hesitant, sweet kiss that I hope he’ll reciprocate.

He pulls back a touch, enough that his mouth is out of range, and slides my card into the reader. The unlocking mechanism sounds and the light flashes green. Pushing the door open for me, he prods me in to the darkness. I’m brimming with disappointment and on the verge of tears over the rebuff.

Just as I step across the threshold though, a strong hand palms the front of my waist. He leans in, his cool nose skating across my ear, stealing a tiny gasp from me. “Apparently some people call me the big bad wolf,” he whispers. “But I kind of like it.”

I’m inside the cabin, the door’s shut, and my lumberjack is gone before the words truly register.

“Oh my God!” I yelp, slapping myself in the forehead.

A round of growls and shushes sound out in the room.

Chapter Five

I groan inwardly, my forehead resting against my palms, waiting for a full day of training to begin. All I want to do is crawl back into bed.

“You should eat something,” Tillie suggests, pulling apart her bagel. “Here.”

I sneer at it. “Last night was so not worth it.” I don’t know what was worse: waking up to the taste of putrid breath and disgrace in my mouth and the head-splitting ache between my temples, or knowing that I humiliated myself in front of the owner—my boss.

Things are still a little bit foggy, but from what I remember, he had to save me from almost-certain drowning, carry me home because I couldn’t stand on my own two feet, listen to me babble about Jed, and endure me hitting on him shamelessly.

Until I forced myself on him with a pathetic attempt at a kiss.

“Would you just tell me what happened?”

“Nothing.” I refuse to give her—or anyone—the details. I’m too embarrassed.

“Huh.” Suspicion drips from that single sound. “Sounds like you got the post-drunk-flashback blues. They’re somethin’ terrible. We’ve all had them, so spill it.”

Is that true? Does everyone feel this shroud of shame and mortification after a night of drinking?

“It’ll make you feel better. Promise.”

I’ll do anything to feel better right now. “I cried on a guy last night,” I finally admit.

She smiles triumphantly, as if proud of herself for making me break.

“It was awful.”

“Yeah, well... girls get emotional when they’re drunk. Who was he?”

I avert my gaze to hide the lie when I say, “I have no idea.”

“You didn’t even get his name?”

I shake my head.

“Well, I assume nothin’ too wild happened, seeing as nothin’ causes limp dick faster than a crying girl.”

“What else would—”Another memory hits me and I gasp, staring wide-eyed at her. “Oh my God!” I basically asked him to have sex with me.

And told him that I’m a virgin!

And that I’ve never been so much as fingered.

Saliva begins to pool in my mouth. “I’m going to be sick.” This is why I’m not supposed to drink. Mama’s right. Satan does live at the bottom of a bottle of booze.

“Don’t worry. If you see him again, apologize. I doubt he gives a shit.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mumble. I’m still having a hard time believing that the big burly man in the plaid jacket is the billionaire, Henry Wolf. But that’s my kind of luck.

I called him a lumberjack.

And stroked his beard.

I groan again, as the petite Texan brunette at the front of the room claps her hands several times to gather everyone’s attention. There are close to fifty people in this room by Tillie’s count; the vast majority of them women.

“Welcome to Wolf Cove Hotel, a Wolf Hotels establishment! My name’s Paige,” she chirps. “Y’all have been chosen to join this team because of your exceptional experience in high-end accommodation establishments, your exemplary ethics, and your dedication to put this hotel into a league of its own.”

Tillie leans in next to me, her strong perfume wafting into my nostrils as she murmurs, “Or maybe because we’re all gorgeous people.”

I stifle my snort, though I can’t help but agree with her. It was all the more evident at breakfast in the lounge this morning. Even though some were clearly nursing a hangover, myself included, every last person employed at Wolf Cove, right down to the cooks and plumber working on the public restrooms this morning, has something going for them in the looks department.

I’m pretty sure there’s a profiling lawsuit brewing somewhere here.

But honestly, how did I end up here? I mean, I filled out an application, answered a few questions, and was hired a week later to do a job that I have no experience in.

And I seem to be the only one without respectable credentials. Everyone in my cabin has worked for a large chain hotel before, if not for the Wolf itself. Autumn was a concierge at the Seattle location and Lorraine normally works out of the Wolf Chicago spa.

And that’s the whole experience angle. The looks angle... Let’s just say I’m the only one here with braided hair and thick, ungroomed eyebrows, now emphasized because I’m forced to wear contacts in order to see ten feet in front of me.

If I let myself think about it for too long, I start to believe they screwed up when they hired me. There was an accidental shuffle from the “reject” pile to the “hire” pile.

“Okay! Let’s get down to business. Everyone in this room has been hired for the Cove’s housekeeping services. You’ve all done this kind of work before, some of you within the Wolf family, some outside. For those outside, we want to make sure that each and every one of you knows exactly what’s expected of you at Wolf Cove, and I’ll promise you that our standards are high.”

“I don’t need a lesson on cleaning toilets,” Tillie mutters.

She may not need one, but I don’t want one. I sigh and glance over my shoulder at the clock. It’s 9:00 a.m. I swung by the reception desk before the session, but Belinda wasn’t there yet. This has to get fixed. As nice as it would be to work with Tillie, this is not what I signed up for. My own bedding is sitting in a heap, back in the cabin. I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t meet Wolf standards.