Page 10 of Serenity & the Hermit
“I dunno. I guess I just find most people disappointing.”
“Is that why you live up in the mountain and growl at people?”
"Maybe." I release a slight grumble as I spoon coffee into the filter. Serenity just laughs, not at all perturbed by my grumpy show.
"Maybe," she repeats, resting her head on the back of the couch with a sigh. "You don't like sharing much about yourself, do you?"
"There isn't a lot to tell," I say, adding in the water and flicking on the machine. It hisses and gurgles.
"I don't believe that. A man doesn't learn know how to fix a shoulder dislocation by chance. He also doesn't hide away from society and pull weapons on strangers by happenstance either. There tends to be a reason for these for things."
"Well, my reasons are lame," I say, searching her cupboards for the mugs. “I just prefer the mountains to the city.”
"They're in that little one above the fridge," she instructs, before adding. "And I definitely want to hear your reasons regardless of how lame they are. I've already told you my entire family history, how dire my financial situation is, and you know my real name. I don't know anything about you besides the fact you prefer solitude, hate loggers and enjoy pretending to be a bear."
"A bear?" My brow lifts as I pull down two mugs that appear handmade with pretty sunflower patterns on them. She growls and makes finger claws by way of demonstration. "Ah, the growling." Setting the mugs on the counter, I watch the coffee machine drip and dribble, almost finished with its brew. "Does it bother you?"
"The growling?" Her eyes lift to mine and I nod. "No," she practically whispers. "If I'm being honest, I kind of like it."
One side of my mouth curves up unbidden. She likes it. And it's becoming clearer and clearer to me that I also like her. A lot. It's been a long time in between women, and my skills are likely a little rusty in that department. But I think I could make an exception for her. "Then I guess I'll keep doing it," I say, adding a little growl at the end of it. She giggles.
"I'm glad I met you, Nelson," she muses, sitting up a little straighter on the couch.
"You're probably first to feel that way in a really long time."
"Well, you're the first man to ever tell me I have...appealing qualities. So that might be swaying me a little." She smiles a little then blushes. "Besides, I like the way you make me feel safe. Protected."
We lock eyes for a moment. That thing that's been stirring inside me since I met her outside the post office swirling up a storm somewhere inside me. I don't know why, but I want very much to be the protector of this woman, the man who helps make all of her dreams come true. But to be that, I know I'm going to have to step way out of my comfort zone and let her in. I’ll have to step out of my hidey-hole in the mountain.
The coffee machine beeps, signaling its task is done. So I shift my attention to the mugs and pour the hot black liquid into them before carrying them both back to Serenity and handing one to her.
"Thanks," she whispers, her eyes lingering on me for a long moment before I step away and take my mug to the chair opposite her, needing a little distance to get my head on straight. There's no question in my mind over the attraction I have toward this woman. And it seems reciprocal, which is a dizzying realization. Under any normal circumstances, being any normal man, acting on that attraction wouldn't be a problem. But I'm not your average man, and I have a feeling Serenity deserves a hell of a lot better than a hermit with poor social skills and a less than appealing demeanor.
We sit in silence for a few moments, sipping our coffee while I sit deep in thought, enjoying the robust flavor of the brew. It's a hell of a lot better than what I normally drink.
"I bought these at the town market when I first moved here," she says suddenly, snapping me away from my thoughts.
"What?"
"The mugs." She gestures to the mug I'm cradling between my hands. "There's a local woman who creates beautiful sunflower-themed artwork. I can't think of her name, right now. It starts with an 'M' or--"
"Millie," I say quickly, watching the way her eyes light up and her smile grows.god, she's beautiful.
"Yes. Do you know her?"
"You could say that. She's married to my brother."
"The mug sculptor."
"He sculpts a great many things," I say, running a thumb over the edge of the mug fondly. I should have recognized Dylan's and Millie's work immediately. Guess I was a little distracted...
"Are you close?"
"Decently," I say with a smile. "There are four of us all up, and we all enjoy our solitude for a great many reasons. But we always make time for family."
"That's nice," she says with a wistful smile. "I'm not at all close with my brother. I mean, we talk and all, but..."
"He's just a guy you grew up with?"
