The chill from the cool mountain air hit Mia's back, causing a shiver to run through her as she struggled to pull the large suitcase and duffle bag from the trunk of the Camaro. After three days in the small car, she reasoned it probably would have been a better idea to rent something more travel friendly. Still she didn't regret her choice if not for the very least sentimental reasons.
She straightened herself after closing the trunk and looked out at the snow topped mountains taking in the cool blue hue of the atmosphere. Everything was so serene, the air crisp and fresh as she took deep soothing breaths. The trees of the forest went on for miles seemed so welcoming, images of herself running in them, basking in the feel of the earth around her flooded her mind.
Dropping her bags as she entered the foyer of the cabin, Mia was blown away by the unexpected interior. The wood cabin was charming enough from the outside, but the inside was stunning. The original construction had a modern look, with a touch of vintage furniture and décor. It was definitely not what she pictured when she learned she had inherited the property in the mountains of Gildergreen, Colorado, from the man she had been taking care of for the last five years.
As she took in the sight of her new home away from home, Mia felt an ease wash over her. There was something about this place she couldn't explain.
"You must be Mia?" She jumped as an older man in an open button-down shirt over a white tee-shirt and worn blue jeans caught her attention.
Extending his hand to her, he introduced himself. "I'm George, the groundskeeper." His smile was welcoming under his gray beard, causing the lines around his kind eyes to exaggerate. He looked to be in his late 50s, yet the years had been good to him ever the same.
"Of course! Hi, yes, I'm Mia. This place is magnificent. I didn't know Victor had such good taste."
George let out a chuckle. "No, Victor never cared much for interior design. His workshop was where he spent most of his off time. This was all his late wife Clara and my wife's doing."
"That man loved working with his hands. He was building till his last day," Mia said with a slight hint of sadness in her tone. Victor had become somewhat of a father figure to her in the short time she spent with him, hers being absent her whole life. It was a much-needed connection, one that didn't come lightly. Even though a year did not seem like such a long time, she spent more time with Victor in those months than anyone else. Working nonstop offered an escape from her life. However, Victor offered a safe haven for her. Her time with him consisted of peaceful and happy memories.
"I'm so happy to hear that, stubborn as always, even at death's door. But the Mrs. is the one who keeps this place looking right and tight. She has a knack for that kind of stuff. Most of the design was by Clara though."
"They sound like my kind of women."
Becoming quiet, her anxiety began to rise. Social situations always made her nervous, especially those involving her alone with a man.
George seemed to catch on to Mia's discomfort. "Well, I will leave you to get better acquainted with the place. My wife left our numbers on the counter in case you need anything, along with a list of places she thought you might like to check out in town. It's a small town, but there are plenty of local shops and dining, and the people here are all very welcoming, minus a few bad apples."
"Thank you, George. I look forward to meeting your wife soon. I will let you know if I run into any trouble." With that George gave Mia one last smile and a nod before making his leave.
Mia let out a sigh after George closed the back door behind him, chastising herself for her awkwardness and unreasonable fear.
After her mom died when she was four, Mia's dad tried to take care of her on his own. He eventually left her with his sister and her husband a year later and disappeared. Her mom's family were all a world away in Ireland, and her Aunt Camilla was the only family her father trusted. There was never a doubt in Mia's mind that her father loved her. She knew a piece of him died when her mom died, to a point it broke him. Her aunt Camilla was a wonderful woman who tried her best to fill the space left empty after her parents were gone.
They were first-generation Italian Americans, though stern, Camilla was warm and loving towards Mia. Always taking the time to teach her anything from cooking to sewing, and more. She was there for every scratch and scrape, every school achievement, and every kiss goodnight. She worked a lot, but most of all, she did her best to make Mia feel loved and cared for.
Uncle Marco on the other hand was something else entirely. On the outside, he was just as amazing, but on the inside when no one was around, became a horrible, sick, and perverse man.
Not wanting to let her mind get sucked into the rabbit hole of darkness, known as her memories, Mia left her bags by the front door and decided to get better acquainted with the place.
After a thorough tour of the cabin, she decided on a small nap before heading into town to track down some food. Mia grabbed her bags and made her way past the cozy living room where a beautiful brown sectional with a piece of worn leather fabric, adorned with some comfy-looking wool throws sat. It was a spacious area, the couch faced the far corner of the room, leaving a grey and white fur rug take up the floor. In one corner a massive stone fireplace sat between two floor-to-ceiling windows. Adjacent to that was a large TV built into the wall.
Making her way up the magnificent spiral stairs in the far back corner of the cabin, she admired the rustic steel they were made of as she climbed to the loft. Throwing her luggage in front of the dresser, she sauntered over to the large bed and collapsed into the thick plush cotton comforter.
This was definitely the doing of a sensible woman
. She thought. Exhausted from the cross-country drive, she barely slipped her boots off before drifting off to sleep.
Jax studied the petite brunette from his truck as she pulled her things from the classic Camaro SS. Probably a '68 he guessed, it looked like Victor's handy work. Initially disappointed Victor chose not to leave his property to the pack. He was suspicious as to why he left it to someone he had only known for such a short time and worried what her motives were. When Victor left he selected Jax to take his place as Alpha, and with that came all the responsibilities of running an entire pack and keeping away any threats. When he saw her that feeling faded away as he felt an instant pull towards her. His wolf suddenly excited as he'd never felt before. Dismissing the intrusive feeling, Jax pulled away to meet up with George at his place.
What the fuck was that?
He thought to himself. He couldn't figure it out, but his wolf seemed to know something he didn't. Sure she was gorgeous, her wavy dark brown hair coming just below her perky breasts. She was short and petite but had curves in all the right places. Even her baggy sweatpants couldn't hide, but the tight long sleeve shirt showed off the form of her chest perfectly. Everything aside, she was still human. What was Victor thinking? His thoughts drifted, and he began to imagine how it would feel to grip her tight round ass, and how her tits would fit perfectly in his large hands. Jax shook his head trying to ward off the intrusive thoughts, instead placing his focus back on the task at hand.
George only lived ten minutes from the property, so Jax was there in no time. George pulled up not long after in his truck, which Jax was pretty sure was holding on by duct tape and bubble gum.
Jax greeted him playfully. "Hey old man"
"Hey there youngin', I take it you aren't here for tea with the Mrs." George chuckled, knowing exactly why Jax was in his driveway.
"As much as I thoroughly enjoy Mrs. Emily's tea and gossip, no that is not the matter of my visit today."
"I take it you saw the girl?"
"I did, what's your take?" George wasn't a wolf, yet he was a very strong empath, an old ally to the pack, and a dear friend to Victor. Jax trusted his judgment.
"She seems harmless. Her energy is extremely genuine, albeit a little anxious and unsure of herself. Hard to tell what all Victor chose to disclose in his final days. There is something strange I can't quite put my finger on though."
