Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Next were the bees—that was completely insane. He didn’t need to have smoke or any special equipment, and the bees didn’t sting him. This blew her mind. She didn’t like hurting bees, as she knew they were good for the environment, but even she freaked out every time one buzzed close to her. That seemed natural for her to do exactly that. He was fearless.
And how was he always hot? That made no sense. Last night was so incredibly cold, yet he’d been so warm. He didn’t need a jacket nor a blanket, and Poppy knew she didn’t exactly provide enough heat to keep him warm.
The final strange thing about Wilder were the scars he possessed, and why did poachers attack him? Were his parents investigating poachers? Did they get too close? Were they the poachers and turned on fellow poachers? She had no understanding of anything that happened, she was more confused than ever before, and she didn’t like it. Her suspicions had no real validity so they just made her feel guilty.
She rubbed at her temple and remembered how he mentioned putting up security fences to keep humans out. He didn’t refer to men or women, or people, but humans. Maybe he’d just been out in the wilderness too long. Some days she was ashamed to be a human being herself.
The door suddenly opened and she stood up, grateful she’d already finished her cup of tea, because she nearly threw half of it away. She forced a smile to her lips, because she suddenly felt uneasy.
“Hello,” she said. “Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?”
“That would be great. I’ve got honey on the counter. A couple of spoonfuls, please.”
Again, with the bees, and how they reacted to him. Her mind wouldn’t turn off.
“How long have you kept bees?” she asked.
“A long time.”
“It must be nice not to get stung.”
“I’ve never been stung,” he said.
She frowned. In all her life, she’d never known an instance where someone keeping bees hadn’t been stung. No matter how good they were.
“I was really sorry to hear about your parents.” She didn’t want to keep asking questions about the bees, just in case she asked something stupid. She didn’t know anything about keeping bees, and although she liked the taste of honey from time to time, she didn’t like it enough to keep bees. It was a lot of work.
“It was a long time ago,” he said.
“And poachers killed your parents? Like the men that were chasing after us?” she asked. She hated talking about something painful for him, but she needed answers.
Wilder nodded, and she held out the tea she made for him, and he took it from her. His fingers glided across hers, and she couldn’t help but take a deep breath as all of her nerve endings seemed to stand right on edge.
She looked at him and saw his beautiful dark eyes. She was not sure if they were quite black or a deep brown. One look and she felt like she was falling. It was strange as in the back of her mind, she pictured a dark black bear with lighter streaks of brown. She had no idea why she thought about that, just that it came to her almost like a vision.
“Don’t you think that’s a little odd?” she asked. “That poachers would kill your parents? Were your parents poachers?”
She was pretty sure a growl emitted from his lips, and she found herself jumping back. The hairs on the back of her arms stood on end.
“They killed my parents. It’s why I go out and force them to move on. I protect bears. My parents were not poachers. They did all they could to protect bears from those monsters.”
He took a step toward her, then another, and Poppy looked into his eyes, and for a split-second, she felt afraid, but then that fear disappeared. This man was not going to hurt her. Wilder had proven he would never hurt her.
“I’m so sorry,” Poppy said. “I don’t know what is ... it must be fear or something. I don’t know what those poachers are capable of, and you mentioned that some of the police are in on it, and I don’t know who I can trust.”
“And you thought I was part of it?”
“I don’t know. It made no sense your parents being attacked by poachers, and I’m so sorry because I know how that sounds.” She winced. “Ignore me. It’s been a long couple of days.” It had been a lot longer than that. She hadn’t truly rested in years. Life, for the longest time, had sucked. Now, the stress was starting to get to her, and she might have insulted Wilder. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
“Don’t worry about it. The cub is safe now and so are you. Here, you’ll see that all your troubles melt away.” He leaned in close and Poppy thought he smelled her but she couldn’t exactly be sure.