Sophie Oak: Once Upon a Time in Bliss

A vacation where she found a job because her mom’s sales wouldn’t cover fixing up the cabin. She would have to see what she could get for her laptop.

“I don’t know.” Her mom looked Bill’s way.

“Henry can take care of her,” Bill said.

“Nell, grab your coat, and we can be on our way,” Henry said. Well, ordered really. He seemed to be a very bossy sort of man. Likely because he was a teacher. Teachers often had to take control, though Nell’s favorite teachers had always been the freethinking ones. Her favorite teacher of all time had been Mrs. Joyce, her eighth grade English teacher, who brought a net to class so she could catch dangling participles. Of course, she’d also taught grammar through interpretive dance.

Maybe she could find a teaching job.

“Nell?” Henry was staring at her.

Yes, he was far too bossy for her tastes. She would simply have to survive the afternoon. She would take him to see the cabin and then head into town to talk to Teeny about where she might be able to pawn her computer. And her necklace. It was a silly thing, a little silver snowflake with the words “You’re One of a Kind” engraved on it. It had been a gift from a friend. She always touched the necklace when she felt down, a way of reminding herself of the words. Now she would have to pawn it. She sniffled as she walked to where she’d hung up her coat.

Henry stood talking to her mom. He’d leaned in, whispering something to her. Her mother stopped, her pretty face settling in a confused mask.

“Will you really?” she asked.

Henry’s face was the same polite blank it had been the whole time. She wondered what it would take for the man to smile. “I promise I will.”

A bright, sunny smile replaced her mother’s previous gloom. “Excellent. I like you, Henry. Take care of my girl. She’s very important to the world, you know.”

Nell blushed. “Mom, please.”

“I can see that,” Henry said. He grabbed his own coat and held the door open for her. “Shall we?”

It was too bad he was so bossy and obviously believed in a patriarchal society worldview because he really was quite handsome. She walked out the door wondering what he would look like if he would just smile.

“What did you say to my mom?”

He didn’t look back, merely expected Nell to follow. It was time to start her training, and part of that training was to follow him when he decided to lead. During most of the brief time of their relationship, Bishop would be perfectly fine with trailing after her and allowing her to make most of the unimportant decisions. She could choose where they ate and what they did for fun. He couldn’t care less about what movies they might see. All of those daily things would be left to her.

But when it counted, when the chips were down and things got dangerous, he would be in charge.

“I told her I would take care of you.” What he’d told her had actually been more about taking care of anyone who thought they could hurt Nell while he was on watch. He’d actually said something more like he would rip the testicles off the fucker and ram them down his throat if he thought to touch her. Moira Finn had seemed suitably impressed.

Somehow he didn’t think Nell would be. He rather thought she would give him a lecture on proper masculine modern behavior and how it didn’t involve deballing his foes. It was brutally obvious that Nell was one of those bleeding-heart liberals who would let the whole world go to hell because she didn’t want to get her hands dirty. He couldn’t stand the type.

And he still wanted her. His cock had been hard as a damn rock since she’d walked in and looked up at him with those doe eyes. All he’d been able to think about since that minute was getting her under him. The women in his world were typically cold and just as ruthless as he was.

Nell Finn was soft and seemingly innocent. Oh, he was pretty sure she wasn’t a virgin. No one was that innocent, but her lack of a hymen didn’t mean she was worldly.

“Well, I don’t actually require taking care of, but thank you,” she said primly as they walked out into the snow. It had blanketed the mountain in white. Nell pulled her knit cap down, covering her ears.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” Bishop started as he moved toward his SUV, a rental that had luckily come with full snow tires. “Which bitch was he referring to? You or your mother?”

It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t following him now. He turned, the snow covering his boots. He’d been working in South America for too long. The cold was foreign, alien. He was used to almost junglelike heat.

Nell didn’t seem to mind. She stood in her galoshes, that lovely body swallowed up by her parka. The cap on her head practically devoured her as well, covering most of her hair and ending in two knit balls hanging to her shoulders. It wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t attractive. So why did his heart do a weird shaky thing? She was adorable.

He didn’t do adorable.

“That was rude, Henry. I’m not a bitch, and it’s mean of you to say it.” Her words were quiet, not a real hint of anger in them, but he could feel her hurt.

Damn it. He didn’t need this. He needed to completely rethink his position. She was one of those heart-on-her-sleeve, fall-in-love kind of girls, and all he was looking for was a nice long fuck. So he should back off. He would solve her problem and then she could go her way and he would go his. Surely there were women in this town who just wanted an orgasm.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t actually calling you a bitch. I was making a bad joke about what was written on your wall.”

She stared for a moment as though trying to decide if he was being truthful. “Okay. I’m being touchy. I didn’t like you calling me that.”

She started to walk again, crossing the distance between them. Fuck, she was pretty.

“You shouldn’t like anyone calling you that.”

She shrugged a little. “You get used to it.”

“You get used to it? Who the hell routinely calls you vulgar names?” The thought really pissed him off. He’d been told this was a nice town, not a town where young women were verbally assaulted.

“Oh, lots of people. Mostly at the places where I protest.”

“Protest?”

“Yes. I like to protest. In the last week, I’ve organized or attended five different protests, though one probably shouldn’t count because it was really spontaneous. Max Harper killed a wolf. I protested him. Vigorously.”

Bishop had to work to keep up with her. “Why did he kill a wolf? Is he a hunter?”

She shook her head. “No. Although I’ve heard he hunts, too. He’s a rancher, and apparently this poor wolf was very hungry.”

Bishop stopped, his hands going to his hips. “Nell, he has the right to protect his property.”

Nell turned back to him, a standoff. “And I have the right to protect the earth. He didn’t even try to save the wolf. And he wasn’t apologetic. He was all tough guy ‘I killed one of nature’s blessings and that makes me a man.’ He used a telescopic rifle. The wolf didn’t have a chance. If he wants to prove his big bad manhood, he should take the wolf on without weaponry. Then maybe I will be impressed, though likely not, since I don’t think wolves should have been taken off the endangered species list. I protested that, too.”

Wow . She could talk a mile a minute. “I think if the wolves want to survive, they should evolve and start creating weapons of their own.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you just wait, Mister. When all the predators are gone, fluffy adorable bunnies will overrun the earth. When they eat every vegetable known to man, you’re going to be hungry.”