Chapter 11: Lottie

The wolf is back. And this time he's less wary of me. I suppose I am of him as well. I don't fear him now, not after Michael's reassurance that he won't hurt me.

The large black wolf walks right up to me, rubbing against my shoulders and then my neck. I reach up and scratch his scruff and pet him in greeting. Tilting my head into his neck when he decides he wants to get as close to me as possible.

Is it weird to befriend a wild animal like this? I should be cautious and frightened, but I'm not. The animal's presence soothes me in a strange way that nothing else ever has. I don't think about it too much; it'll only baffle me more than I already am. And I kind of like the idea that I made friends with a big bad wolf all by myself.

On this trip to the woods, I brought a blanket since I planned on staying awhile to play and absorb the world around me. The wolf arrives as I'm lounging and playing a favorite song of mine, but I immediately change to a less depressing tune.

The wolf lies down at my side, wrapping his large furry body around mine protectively. Circling around my back, his head is lowered to eye level on my right. The mass of the deadly beast at my back makes me feel safe.

"Would you like to hear a song I've been working on?"

He perks up, and I swear there's understanding dancing in his blue eyes. Glacier blue eyes that regard me with such humanistic intelligence. They remind me of the nickname they gave Frank Sinatra because of his distinct eye color; Ol' Blue Eyes. His snout is so close to my face he could easily lick me from chin to temple. He doesn't, though. Just sits patiently waiting.

"Blue eyes as bright as a glacier in the middle of the ocean. Would you mind if I gave you a name?" I ask the animal whom I know can't speak or likely understand me.

"Your eyes remind me of Frank Sinatra's; they called him Ol' Blue Eyes. So, how about I call you Frank?"

The wolf chuffs and scowls. I didn't even know a wolf could scowl, but he does it.

"Okay then, not Frank," I giggle. "How about Sinatra, then? I need to call you something other than wolf."

He bumps my elbow with his nose and rests his chin on his crossed paws.

"I'll take that as a yes. Alright then, Sinatra. Shall I sing you a song?"

A deep rumbling sound emanates from Sinatra's chest as he remains motionless, patiently waiting for me to play.

"Okay, but don't judge. I've only got a vague idea of the lyrics so far. But the chorus has been dancing around in my head since I arrived."

I settle my pre-war Martin guitar on my crossed legs, tucking my bare feet under me, and strum out the beat that I can't seem to get out of my head. Humming along with the rhythm where I think the lyrics should go. Adding in a couple words and short lines that come to me in the moment. I jot them in my notebook, sitting open at my side for later.

"So? What do you think?" I ask Sinatra.

This time, he does stick out his tongue and licks my exposed knee through the rip in my jeans. It tickles, and I chuckle at the strange sensation of the wet and rough texture.

"I take it you liked it then? I haven't written anything like this in a long time. Haven't been able to."

Sinatra tilts his head at me in question. Fuck, this animal is more attentive than my entire legal team. I chuckle at the thought and the way his brows appear to furrow.

"I had a very controlling boss, who also happened to be my mother. She wasn't very . . . understanding. She didn't want to listen to my opinion even though it was my life she was fucking with. All that mattered was her and what she wanted. It made it hard to write music from the heart if you know what I mean."

Sinatra snorts and shakes his head. Okay, I guess he doesn't know what I mean.

"Living a life that isn't yours is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Living a lie slowly kills a person from the inside out in a way that is unrecognizable until it's too late. I just hope I caught it in time to salvage some semblance of the life that I want."

I admit my deepest pains and fears to the wolf sitting and listening motionless at my side. It feels nice to tell someone. To verbalize the feelings I dared not admit out loud before is cathartic. If I hadn't feared my mother getting ahold of session notes, I would have sought out a therapist long ago to speak to. Nothing in Tinsel Town is private. Some way or another, it would all get out in the worst way.

I suppose dawning a disguise and running away isn't much better, but at least the team back in LA can make up whatever the hell they want to explain my absence.

"That's why I'm here," I tell him, trying to explain further. "I wanted to escape my old life. See if I want to start over somewhere new or maybe return, but make, like, a million changes. I still haven't decided yet. But that's what the next few months are for."

Reaching up, I smooth a hand over Sinatra's head, the soft suede fur there shorter than the rest.

"I think I kind of like it here, though. What do you think, Sinatra?"

He perks his ears up and stares at me.

"Should I stay, or should I go?"

With a growl-like purr, he places his head on my thigh, pushing the guitar to the side.

"Okay. I guess that means I'm staying. At least for now."

Laying back, I ease onto Sinatra's large body and relax against him, setting my guitar to the side and nuzzling closer. His fur is softer and silkier than any I've ever felt before. He doesn't smell like dog like I thought he would. Instead, he puts off a deeply relaxing scent of wood shavings, leather, and spicy musk.

I had imagined my time here in many different ways; snuggling with a giant wolf inhaling his weirdly pleasant scent in the middle of the forest was not one of them. But I think it's the best one.

Picking up my Polaroid, I turn it around and point it at myself, shifting so Sinatra's head is next to mine.

"Smile."

I click the button and wait for my selfie with the wolf to develop.

~

Tonight is my dinner with Ginger's family. All of them, including Hunter and his sheriff brother, I haven't met yet. Dad always said it's prudent to make a good first impression. And although I didn't make the best first impression with Hunter, I can still salvage one with his mother and brother. And perhaps have a redo with Hunter if I'm lucky.

Deciding not to arrive empty-handed and having nothing else to do today, I take Tobias' advice and find my way to Daisy's, the local flower nursery. Since none of these businesses are online, I asked the counter girl at Sticky Bun for directions.

I really wanted to taste what was creating the delectable scent I smelled the other day. The cinnamon bun I ordered was devoured in less than a minute, it was that good.

If I'm not careful, I might get addicted. Not a bad thing, in my opinion. Mother always cut sweets out of my diet. Pretty sure I haven't eaten real sugar in over five years.

The nursery is easy enough to find since I only have to make two turns to get there, and Calliope, the friendly girl from the bakery, was very helpful with directions. The road has no sidewalks or lane markings but is paved. It twists a few times before Daisy's comes into view.

When Tobias mentioned a nursery and gardens, I had pictured generic rose bushes, neatly graveled paths, and rows of plants in plastic pots like at Home Depot . Maybe a small wooden greenhouse for the more exotic plants. Something simple.

Daisy's is not that. The greenhouse is massive. Beautifully curved panes of glass form a birdcage-style dome at least two stories tall. The structural beams are painted white, the shape standing out amongst all the varying colors surrounding and filling it.

Even from the parking lot, I can tell the greenhouse is filled with exotic blooms in a rainbow of colors. Vines crawl up the walls and twine around lattices.

Surrounding the opulent greenhouse are gardens of potted and planted flowers. Wild in nature but somehow tamed to stay within their borders. A few people meander down rows, picking and snipping flowers and placing them in woven baskets.

Off to the side, away from the center of activity, is an adorable two-story house painted white to match the greenhouse right down to the climbing vines on its walls.

There's a hand-painted sign at the entrance that reads Daisy's Gardens.

Bypassing the outer gardens, I head straight for the greenhouse. The closer I get, the clearer the inside becomes, and I notice butterflies flitting about everywhere—not just the basic tiny gray and brown ones, but giant orange monarchs, vibrant blue and yellow ones, and purple and pink ones. They float through the air like bubbles.

I'm so busy gawking at the butterflies I almost run into the woman standing at the entrance holding an empty basket in her hands.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I was so focused on the butterflies I didn't see you."

"It's okay. That happens to me sometimes, too," she says in a soft and wispy voice. "I'm Daisy."

So, this is the elusive Daisy.

Daisy extends out her hand in greeting, and I accept it, marveling at the green ink filagree vine tattoos spiraling up and down her soft brown arms. I notice they reach all the way up her neck and down her thigh. Her torso, which I'm sure holds more tattoos, is hidden under a light wash denim overall, the shorts cut almost daisy-duke style. How appropriate for someone named Daisy. She even has flowers tied in her hair. Daisy is the epitome of a flower child.

This town is filled with extremely unique and interesting people. I didn't even see a tattoo parlor in town, so she must have gotten those done somewhere else.

"I'm Lottie. I'm new to town, and Tobias said I should come check you out."

"That was awfully sweet of him. He's my brother-in-law, so he feels the need to tell everyone to come here."

Daisy smiles shyly and giggles so faintly it sounds like chimes tinkling in the wind. Her abnormally green doe eyes widen with delight as she grins at me.

"Have you come in for something special today? Or did you want to take a look around? I'd be glad to give you a tour. Normally, I hide within the greenhouse tending to the plants, but my brother forced me to stand here and greet customers today. Says I need to be more ‘social'." She uses air quotes and rolls her eyes playfully. "I would love an excuse to not stand here anymore."

She looks at me expectantly; honestly, I could use her help.

"A tour and help picking a bouquet would be wonderful."

"Wonderful. What is the occasion? What are the flowers for?" She hands me the empty basket in her hands and loops her arm through mine, dragging me into the greenhouse. Acting like a friend I've known for years rather than a woman I just met thirty seconds ago.

"Oh well, I was invited to dinner, and I thought it would be nice to show up with flowers as a thank you."

"That's a wonderful idea. Who are you having dinner with? Maybe I can help pick flowers they'll like."

"Do you know everyone in town?"

Considering I'm going to the mayor's family's house for dinner, I'm sure she knows who they are. The town is small, but could she really know everyone?

"Basically. I may not hang out at Dottie's or attend karaoke night, but I've lived here my entire life. It's a small town," she adds in a conspiratorial whisper as if it weren't obvious.

With a whisper of a smile on her lips, she shrugs and steps us to the side out of the main entryway to make way for a couple with baskets bursting with flowers. I look down to make sure I don't trip over the vines stretching across the ground, noticing Daisy isn't wearing any shoes. She must have really tough feet walking around on all this gravel and dirt all day.

"Oh well, it's um, Ginger's family. I met her dad, Michael, at his shop the other day, and when I told him I was renting his son's cabin, he invited me over for a get-to-know-them dinner."

"Oh. You're staying at Hunter's cabin? He doesn't rent it out that often, especially to—strangers."

She says strangers as if that wasn't the word she wanted to use. I take another look at Daisy, trying to read her body language, hoping it'll tell me something her words aren't. The pink peonies in her shiny brown hair sway with her movement, and I notice tiny vines wrapped around the strands.

I wonder if she does that on purpose or if it's a result of spending so much time around the plants. The end of her ear pokes through her hair with her movement, and it looks pointed, like an elf from Lord of the Rings. That is until she brushes her hair back over it, obstructing my view, so I can't confirm it is actually pointed. It could have just been my imagination. It's been rather active lately.

"Okay, well, Hunter's mom is a fan of snapdragons and Tsumugi roses. So why don't we start with those? We have a lovely selection to choose from."

Daisy guides me with the arm still linked with mine down another aisle, circling through the large building to a section filled with all kinds of blooms. I have no idea what a tsumugi rose is. I picture the standard rose in my mind but am pleasantly surprised when Daisy stops in front of a section bustling with large, full blooms. These Tsumugi roses have more petals than a normal rose and they're thinner and more rounded. One with soft, buttery yellow petals catches my eye. Reaching out, I brush a finger along the delicate petals.

"This one is lovely. Very nice choice. Yellow symbolizes friendship, so this would be a great color for starting a new friendship. They would go really well with these white ones."

Daisy and I begin to pick out the best blooms for the bouquet—more her than me. The stems and blooms seem to lean towards Daisy as she brushes her hand over them and leans in to smell them, searching for the perfect bloom.

She says everyone I pick is 'not ready yet,' whatever that means. So, I let her sift through the flowers, choosing the ones she deems ready. Although I do pick out a few of my favorites and add them to my basket, which is now bursting with flowers.

Daisy is face-first into a bush full of roses, trying to find the last perfect bloom, when someone bumps into my side. Turning, I have to look up to meet the eyes of the man standing next to me—bright baby blues.

"Hunter. What are you doing here?"

"Found it!" Daisy calls out and places the white flower in my basket. "You know what? This is going to need a vase and maybe some greenery for fullness. Eucalyptus would be perfect." She rambles, focused on the flowers, only finally noticing Hunter staring wide-eyed at us when I don't reply to her.

"Oh, good, Hunter, you're here. You can show Lottie where the snapdragons are while I fetch the vase and eucalyptus. She's getting them for dinner with your parents tonight. You know where they are, so I'll just find you. Okay?"

Daisy is speaking far faster and more animatedly than she had when I first met her at the front door, and the sudden turn of events has my head spinning to watch her skipping away on her bare feet, leaving me alone with Hunter. The only man in the world whose baby blues have made my stomach flutter as much as the butterflies overhead.

"You're coming to dinner at my parent's tonight?" Hunter asks, shocking me back to awareness.

"Yes. I thought you knew since your dad said you would all be there."

He groans but smothers it quickly. "I knew about dinner but not about you attending. My dad left out that bit."

"Oh, well, now you know."

"So, it seems."

"Don't sound so excited about it."

One side of Hunter's lips quirk at our back and forth before he forces it back to neutral.

"Well, I suppose I should show you the snapdragons. And I guess I won't be needing these."

He holds up the few Tsumugi roses he had collected. They're a soft pink that would match well with my yellow ones. I hold out my basket to him.

"Would you like to add them to mine?"

Surprised at my offer, he nods and adds them to my basket. Sitting next to the yellow and white, they do fit in perfectly.

"I don't think I'm going to need many snapdragons at this rate," I chuckle. "Especially if Daisy is getting greenery to fill in the gaps. Your mom is going to end up with a huge centerpiece instead of a bouquet."

Hunter shrugs and gestures in a direction that leads out a side door into the gardens beyond. "That's okay. She loves flowers. She won't mind."

"Good because I would feel bad telling Daisy I didn't need all her precisely picked choices."

A semblance of a grin crosses his face, and Hunter's tight posture doesn't seem as stiff. "Yeah, she tends to get a little overzealous when it comes to flowers and plants. I can barely get her to have a five-word conversation with me if it isn't about something growing out of the ground."

Laughing, my initial nervousness fades as we walk and talk casually. The other times I ran into Hunter, he was polite and courteous but short, not stopping to have a full conversation with me as if he couldn't spare the extra minutes. I'm sure mayors are busy, but still. Maybe this could be our redo first impression.

"Were you only here to get flowers for your mom?" I ask, subtly trying to discover his relationship status. Not that I need to know that for any specific reason; I'm just curious.

"Yeah. I haven't attended a family dinner in a few weeks, and I know my mother will give me the third degree about it. I thought softening her up with flowers might help. But, now I think I have an entirely different reason to fear dinner tonight."

We walk slowly down an aisle bursting with sunflowers, and I stop to squint up at him in the sunlight.

"Why is that?"

"Oh, um, well, you know how parents can be when they invite a girl to dinner and don't tell their single son about it. This wouldn't be their first time doing something like this."

So, he is single.

"You think your parents are trying to set us up?" I blurt out, shocked that was his first assumption.

"Well, I mean, maybe. It's just…" he fumbles with his words, and I notice a slight pinkening of his cheeks. It's sweet. "They've done it once or twice before. It wouldn't be my first dinner ambush with a pretty girl who thought she was on a date with me."

He thinks I'm pretty? Or am I reading too much into that?

Keeping my eyes trained on him, I shake my head faintly, smiling up at him. "I promise I was not expecting this to be a date of any sort. I too have had my fill of parents setting me up."

"Really? A beautiful girl like you needs help finding a date? I highly doubt that."

I'm surprised by his open compliment, but he doesn't cringe back at his words for once. Gazing down at me with clear curiosity and interest.

So, he is interested.

"You'd be surprised. There's a lot of fakes and phonies out there. Plus, I didn't know my mom had set me up until we broke up." Turning away from his now piercing gaze, I trace the outline of the tiny sunflower pedals, not wanting to talk about Asshat with Hunter any longer.

"So, you're single then?"

My head whips around to find him blushing, his gaze flicking everywhere but in my direction. He's flustered again.

"I mean, sorry for prying; that's none of my business—"

"Yes," I practically yell at him, wanting him to know I am very single.

His floundering stills to an astute alertness, his complete focus directed at me.

"I am single," I clarify, just in case.

Hunter nods, and his embarrassment shifts to something heated and focused, intent. My internal temperature rises under his heated stare, causing my throat to go dry. I swallow, trying to lubricate it. Hunter's eyes shift to my mouth, watching my tongue lick at my lips.

Clearing my throat, I try to bring the conversation back around to something less . . . personal.

"I was under the impression your father was just being nice and wanting to welcome me to town. Help me get to know a few people, so I don't feel like such a stranger."

I use the word Daisy did to describe me, trying to discern if he thinks me a stranger at this point.

Hunter begins walking again, guiding us without even having to look where he's going. Knowing exactly where the path dips and turns.

"Oh, yeah, of course. You're probably right. That's likely more accurate than my theory."

He lets out a forced laugh, and on a long, heavy breath, his shoulders pull tight and then go slack, not quite sure what they want to be. I like flustered Hunter; it makes my awkwardness less awkward. With a lighter but suggestive tone, I decide to mess with him just a little, hoping to break the thickening tension between us.

"However, you know your dad far better than I do. I could be completely wrong, and he could be secretly planning our wedding."

"What?!" Hunter barks out, eyes widening and feet faltering, coming to a stuttering stop in the middle of the path.

"I'm just kidding, Hunter, relax." I muffle my laughter and try to cover my smile with my hand. The look on his face has my heart lightening, and his brows drop dramatically when he realizes I'm fucking with him.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. You're just full of jokes, aren't you?"

"Sometimes. If the situation calls for it and you seemed a little tense. I just wanted to loosen you up."

I tap his elbow with mine and see him doing just that.

"See? That wasn't so hard. Oh, look. Snapdragons."

I point to the row next to us and realize we're in the middle of the snapdragon area. Somehow, I had walked past half of them without even noticing.

We find a section of snapdragons that we think would go well with the colors we already have going in the basket and choose a few stems. When I notice Hunter's large hands and body absent from my periphery, I stand up straight and turn in a circle, looking for him. Spotting him about ten feet away, staring into the thick forest of trees that surround the gardens.

"Hunter?" I call, but he doesn't respond or even flinch. Just stands stock still staring, hands fisted around a stem of snapdragons, crushing them between his fingers.

"Hunter," I call louder, trying to get his attention.

He finally turns his eyes in my direction but doesn't budge his stone posture.

"Are you okay?" I ask, coming to his side and looking out in the direction he was staring.

His eyes turn back to the trees and glare daggers. I try to see what he sees, but to my eyes, there's nothing there.

"Is there something out there? I know there are wolves around here, but I was assured they were harmless."

Hunter grunts and shifts his body in front of mine to block my view of the forest.

"Everything's fine. Thought I saw something, but I was mistaken. Come on, why don't we go find Daisy. She probably got distracted by a wilting vine and forgot about your vase."

His body remains taut, but his expression softens, and he even gifts me with a small smile without trying to smother it, and I completely forget about whatever he might have seen in the trees and allow him to guide me away. His hand settles on the small of my back and heats my skin where it makes contact.

The sensation trickles through my body and makes my nipples harden under my shirt as a needy throb starts between my thighs.

Holy fuck. I have never been turned on so fast before and by only a hand on my back. He's not even touching my skin, and it feels like he's caressing my naked body with his tongue.

Next to me, Hunter takes in a deep inhale and growls low in his throat. The vibration reverberating through his hand, still connected to my back, only intensifies the heat growing in my body. The tumbling of my stomach and quickening of my heart add to the turmoil inside.

Large fingers curl gently but possessively into my shirt, pulling it tighter against my chest. Displaying the points of my nipples through the soft material.

Before I can even attempt to comprehend what the hell is happening, Hunter's searing touch is gone from my back, and he's taking a large step away from me, clearing his throat and trying not to look me in the eye.

"I'll see if I can find Daisy. You wait here."

Without waiting for a response, he walks away and disappears inside the greenhouse to find Daisy. Leaving me hot and panting and wet in the panties, standing here like a fool with egg on my face.

What the actual fuck was that?