Page 2 of Beast of Misty Mountain

“I built this place,” he says, voice low. “You’re trespassing.”

I suck in a breath and shoot a glance toward my backpack that’s propped in the corner of the room. I move quickly, careful not to trip over the edge of the blanket as I stride over to it. He doesn’t move, but watches me with an intensity that makes me squirm. I yank out the folded-up rental agreement and shove it toward him.

“I paid for this place. I have a signed lease. Hank rented it to me. He told me it was vacant, and I could have it through Labor Day.”

He takes the paper but doesn’t even glance at me as his eyes scan the document. His expression shifts from irritated to something colder. His jaw flexes, and a vein ticks in his temple.

“He what?” he mutters under his breath. “He was supposed to call me if he was going to rent this out.”

“You mean,” I say, narrowing my eyes, “you know Hank?”

“I’ve known Hank a long time,” he says. Some of the fury and tension eases, but he’s still staring at the lease like he’s trying to burn a hole in it. “This cabin’s mine.”

My mouth opens. Then closes. My mind is in overdrive. Do I have any options? No. No, I don’t. It’s high season in Misty Mountain, and no rentals have been available since before Hank hired me and set me up in this cabin.

I have no place to go if this towering man kicks me out. Sleeping in my car doesn’t sound fun, but I might not have another option if this guy makes me leave.

“Well, he told me it was available,” I say slowly, pretending to be bolder than I am. “And I’ve been living here for two months already. I’m not leaving.”

I don’t know if I’m being brave or stupid by talking back to this man like this. Probably both because he’s so big he makes me look tiny–which is something that’s never happened before–and like he could pick me up with one arm.

He looks at me again like I’m an annoying mosquito. If anything, he looks more irritated now that I’m standing my ground.

“You’re not leaving,” he repeats flatly, looking at me like he thinks I’m an idiot.

“No,” I snap. “I still have a month left on my lease. You can take it up with Hank.”

He doesn’t respond right away. He stands there, staring at me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m worth arguing with.

He exhales, slow and sharp, then raises both hands in surrender.

“Okay,” he says, voice rough. “Let’s start over.”

I don’t drop my guard, but I tuck the lease back into my backpack.

“I’m Milo Adamson,” he says. “This is my cabin. I’ve been out of town the past couple of months, working a job. It was supposed to go through end of September but got cut short.”

“Marilee Robertson,” I reply. “I’m working at The Rusty Elk for the summer until Labor Day. I’ve been here since June.”

His eyes flick toward the window like he’s weighing his options. He nods once in a sharp motion.

“I’m not about to let some stranger take over my space,” he says, not exactly confrontational but not inviting either.

“Well,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest, “I’m not about to let some man with a bad attitude tell me what I can and can’t do.”As if I didn’t have enough of that kind of talk from my ex.

He raises an eyebrow, and for one breath of a second, something shifts in his expression, like he’s trying to resist laughing.

He runs a hand over his short dark hair, exhaling again. “Fine.”

“But this is the only bedroom.” Inwardly, I groan. Is he going to make me sleep on the couch? I’ve napped there, but it’s not comfortable enough to sleep on for a full night. But…what other option do I have?

“I’ll sleep outside,” he says. “There’s a hammock off the porch.”

I stare at him, disbelieving. “You’re serious? What if it rains?” I ask. No idea why this pops into my head, but the words are out of my mouth faster than I can stop them.

He shrugs, like weather is the least of his problems. “Then I get wet.”

He turns back to the living space and grabs the extra quilt off the couch without another word. The muscles in his back stretch the fabric of his shirt as he stomps toward the door. When he opens the front door, I shiver as a cool breeze comes in.

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