Captured by Mr. Wild: Chapter 7
Captured by Mr. Wild (The Men Series – Interconnected Standalone Romances Book 4)
DAISY SWIMS IN THE lake every morning at the break of dawn. Just as Betsy and I are return from our run. She doesnât see us, and I never call out. She seems to want the space. I get the feeling she needs it somehow. Iâm not sure what it is, but I suspect sheâs working through something. You donât come back to a house in another country youâve not seen in ten years just to clean it before it sells.
Maybe I can recognise it because when I need to think, Betsy and I take off camping in the woods for a couple of days. Whatever it is that Daisy needs, I hope she finds it here. I hope she finds her way back to herself.
âLetâs go, girl.â
I whistle at Betsy, and she hops down from the seat of the truck onto the sidewalk. We walk down Hope Coveâs main street, saying good morning to people we pass. Betsy gets lots of fuss, which she laps up. It goes with the territory when you live in a small community.
We head inside the general store, run by Ralph. I swear the guy never ages. He ran this store when I used to come in as a kid with my brother and granddad to get a packet of sweets at a weekend, and he still runs it now. Thatâs Hope Cove all overâfamily-run businesses looking out for one another.
âHey, Ralph.â I raise my hand in greeting as he nods at me from behind the counter. His dog, Duke, peers around the edge of the wood, his ears pricking up when he sees Betsy by my side. Iâve never quite figured out what breed Duke has in him. Heâs a wiry beast, who bounces around as though he believes heâs half his size.
Ralph watches the pair of them, sniffing one another, tails wagging, and shuffles over to a large glass jar on the counter full of dog biscuits and pulls one out, handing it to Betsy.
âDonât you go trying to make my girl sweet on you, Ralph,â I joke as Betsy crunches the biscuit down and then drops her nose to the floor to sniff out the crumbs.
Ralph shakes his head with a chuckle. Itâs the same routine every time we come in here.
âI donât think itâs me you need to worry about.â Ralph tips his head, and I follow his gaze back down to where Duke is busy licking Betsyâs jaw.
I smirk. Heâs certainly got balls; Iâll give him that.
âHowâs he settling in?â
âHeâs doing good. Settled right in. I was worried, you know, adopting and all. Can never tell what kind of past theyâve had. But heâs a good boy.â A smile settles over Ralphâs face as he watches the two of them crouch down on their front legs, trying to entice the other into a game of chase. âHeâs been good company.â Ralphâs eyes mist momentarily, and I pat him on the arm.
He lost his wife six months ago. Getting Duke was Travisâ suggestion, so heâd have a companion and a reason to get up each morning. Nothing like someone depending on you to force you to keep yourself going.
Ralph tuts and pats his hand over mine on his arm. âKeeps running off mind. Always comes back. But Iâve no idea what heâs up to. I fix one spot in the fence where heâs getting out, and the next day, another appears.â
I chuckle. âHeâs running the show, Ralph.â
Ralph takes his hand away from mine and bats it in the air, dismissing my comment, but not before I see the smile pulling at his lips. He loves that scruffy hound. Anyone can see that.
âYou after more film then, Blake?â He lifts his chin.
âHow dâyou guess?â
He clicks his tongue and then lets out a deep, throaty chuckle, turning away and rummaging about on a shelf behind the counter.
âI can always tell, son. You come in here with that determined gleam in your eye, you do. The same one you have every time youâve seen something you want to capture. What is it this time? Another mountain lion?â
âNope.â I grin as Ralph stands and places what I came for down on the counter.
âSpit it out, then. I ainât getting any younger here.â
âCubs, Ralph. Three, I reckon, from the tracks Iâve seen. Me and Betsy have been out early every morning looking for them. I was thinking weâd missed this seasonâs; theyâll have grown now.â
Ralph lifts his wiry gray brows, the corners of his mouth turning down as he nods.
âI havenât seen a black bear cub in years. Mind you, I donât get up and out into the forest as much as you do. I take Duke to the beach for his run. Your popâs camera still doing you well?â
I nod at Ralph as I lean down and rub Duke and then Betsy, around the neck.
âSure is. Never let me down in all these years.â
I grin as I stand and plant some money down on the counter and grab the roll of film.
âThanks, Ralph,â I say as I throw it up in the air, catching it and shoving it into the pocket of my cargo pants.
âCome, show me what you get, wonât you, Blake?â he calls after me as Betsy and I head out the door.
âI always do.â I flash him a smile.
âWhere to now, girl?â I ask Betsy as we go back out onto the street again.
She lets out a whisper of a bark, her tail wagging as she fixes her gaze on something across the street.
I follow her eyes and feel myself breaking into a huge grin as I clock the tiny pair of denim shorts, hugging long, slender legs.
Betsy jogs over to the opposite sidewalk with me, until weâre standing right next to their owner.
âReminding yourself of all the delights Hope Cove has to offer?â I say, my eyes tracing down the side of Daisyâs face to where sheâs chewing on her bottom lip as she stands in front of the town noticeboard.
She turns to me, and her eyes widen, as though sheâs shocked someone is speaking to her.
âBlake?â
âLast time I checked.â I smile at her and my hands go to my hips as she stares at me. She drops to fuss over Betsy, her face lighting up. âSo, what you looking for?â I tilt my head toward the board.
Her forehead wrinkles as she stands and returns her gaze to the board, her eyes scanning over the advertisements and local news bulletins tacked up.
âWell, I was looking for a painter to help with the outside of the house.â
I look at her full pink lips as she speaks, my eyes flicking back up to hers as she turns to face me.
âAlso, Iâ¦â She tips her head to the side and narrows her eyes at me as though sheâs not sure about what sheâs going to say next.
âYou what?â I study her as her face relaxes, and she blows out a breath.
âI was thinking about looking for some work while Iâm here. Just something short-term to pay for groceries and things.â
âWell, DeeââI swear I will never get used to calling her thatââitâs your lucky day.â
âWhyâs that?â She tips her head back and gazes up at me, her bright blue eyes waiting.
âBecause you bumped into me.â I beam at her.
She snorts before it turns into a giggle. âOh, right, must be my lucky day.â
âCalm down.â I smirk. âIâm being serious.â
Her gaze returns to my face and I detect a flash of curiosity in her eyes.
âEnlighten me then, Blake.â She folds her arms across her chest, and it takes every ounce of energy not to drop my eyes to her incredible tits, which are pushed up. âWhy exactly is seeing you lucky for me?â
âYour doubt cuts me.â I pull my best hurt face at her and the corners of her mouth lift.
Pride swells in my chest that I can still make her smile.
âCarry on, then.â She laughs.
âWell.â I puff my chest out. âFor starters, did you forget my dad has his own home maintenance business?â Her mouth gapes open as though sheâs about to speak, so I reach my hand up and place a finger over her lips. âHeâll do a significantly better job than anyone else you can find, and itâll cost you less. And second, if youâre looking for a job, ask Kayla. Her and Trav know just about everyone in this town who runs their own business. They go to all these town meetings and shit. If anyoneâs got anything going, sheâll know.â
I take my finger away from Daisyâs lips. Her cheeks flush the tiniest bit pink, and she looks down at Betsy.
âThatâs kind of you, Blake. But Iâm sure your dadâs busy with clients.â
I arch an eyebrow at her as I lean forward into her eyeline, so she has to look at me.
âYouâre kidding, right? Heâd love to help you out. Heâll shuffle some stuff around.â
Her brow wrinkles as she looks into my eyes.
âHonestly, I can sort it out myself. The same with the job.â
I blow out a breath. âSure, you can, Dee. But thatâs the beauty of having friends. You donât have to do it alone.â I reach out and squeeze her arm.
She bristles under my touch and averts her eyes again.
âFine,â I mutter, dropping my arm from hers and pulling out my cell phone.
âWhat are you doing?â She glances up at me.
I tap out a message on my phone and hit send.
âThatâs a text to Dad. Now⦠Kayla.â I type out another message and send it. âRight, sorted. Theyâll be in touch.â
âBlake!â Her mouth drops open. âYou didnât have to do that. I couldââ
âI know you could. But you wouldnât have. So, I did.â I wink at her and then pat my leg, signalling to Betsy itâs time to go.
âSee you around⦠swimming in that little bikini,â I call over my shoulder as I head back across the street.
I hear her let out a frustrated sigh before she answers. âI wouldnât count on it!â
I raise a hand in a wave, chuckling all the way back to my truck.