Page 48 of Small Town Beast

“This is my land, Tanya.”

“Are you for real?” She swiveled her head to see the The haunted look never left her face.Sleepless night, he judged.A bad dream.

“This is all yours, really?”

“Yeah.”

“How big is–”

“Big,” he said. He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her. “It’s a long walk back to yours. Unless— you want a drink?”

“It’s the morning.”

“I meant coffee, not White Lightning.”

She bit her lip and he thought she would refuse, tell him to go to hell, or some other Tanya-ism.

“How about a daiquiri?” She whispered, and they both laughed.

Tanya allowedSaverin to lead her up the hill and through the wall of trees onto a steep rise. It sure was pretty up here. That was nice. Her distress wanted to eat up each happy thought and send her back to the dark place, but a beautiful view is a powerful force and Tanya was glad she had come.

It was a bright sunny meadow with wildflowers everywhere, the kind of perfect summer morning Florin was capable of.

Through a nodding field of grass a big cabin sat at the very top of the hill. She had never seen anything so grand and sotucked away. Tanya put her head down and put her feet where Saverin put his boots, until finally they were at the top, circled by a breathtaking view of the whole county.

She could seeeverything.There was a telescope. She went to it immediately and stared down at the tiny specks moving across Florin.

“I don’t believe this,” she exclaimed. “You can even see the Appletree.”

“You can look at it some more— if you want. Let me grab some things.”

“I want coffee.”

He laughed at her making demands on him and she thought she should make demands more often. So this was Saverin’s house— a pretty cabin on a hill. This was like a fairyland. Butterflies floated past her and the grass was wet with dew. She slid her feet out of her work clogs and rolled off her socks. She twisted her toes deep into the wet grass and the worry and sadness in her heart lightened.

He went inside and got her a blanket that was very warm, and then in less than a minute he was messing with the fire pit and turning a spark into a steady flame. He scooped coffee grounds into some interesting little pot he set right on the coals, fanning, building, with the efficiency of a man who almost lived outdoors, and his patient expression made her tingle in interesting places.

Saverin noticed her staring at him and a flush went up the back of his neck. Tanya watched it in amazement like she had been watching him since he got the matches out. This was how he looked in the light of day— he was breathtaking. Large, long, and strong.

It took a while and they said nothing to each other. He wasn’t much for talking. He tended the fire and took off the pot and poured the coffee smooth into her cup. His hands were hard andrough-backed. Hands that could break things. Hands that could kill.

And now those hands were holding out a glass jar with something white and fluffy in it, and a spoon. She hadn’t noticed them among the coffee things.

“What is that?”

“Cream,” he said. “It’s fresh.”

She scooped it— like ice cream— and dissolved it in her coffee, slow and delicious.

She drank it in silence and he didn’t fill it with small talk or any kind of talk at all. He sat next to her, their thighs touching.

“Rough night?” He asked finally.

“Bad dreams,” Tanya admitted. Damn if it wasn’t the best coffee she’d ever had. Mister Bailey…Saverin… smelled like he’d just washed his hair. And he had shaved.

“I have work soon. I can’t stay long,” she said.

“Strange time to go wandering through the woods.”

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