Beast #2
“Don’t be,” Belle mumbled. “She was a mean old woman. We never got along, and when she died, she left me her house. God, I hate that place. I’ve been thinking about selling it, but then what?
I’ve never seen myself leaving Huntsville.
This is where my roots are, you know what I mean?
” she asked. He really had no clue what she meant by wanting to put down roots.
He didn’t do roots. Hell, Beast didn’t really do small towns either, but he sure liked stopping on his way through them.
They always had the most interesting people and the best food.
But most of all, he didn’t do soft-eyed bartenders who looked at him like he wasn’t just some rough-edged stranger passing through with a busted rig and more miles under his skin than most men twice his age.
Yet here he was—watching her like she was the first bit of warmth he’d felt in a long damn time.
“You seem to have your mind on other things,” she assessed when he didn’t answer her right away. He really didn’t remember the question, or if she had even asked him one to begin with.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m just thinking about my rig, and trying to figure out who would want to slash my tires.
” That was a total lie, but there was no way that he was going to admit that he was thinking about a way to ask Belle to have dinner with him.
He might have been pushing his luck by accepting her lunch invitation.
Savage warned him that she was nice, so maybe she was just being nice when she offered to eat with him.
Belle sighed, pulling Beast’s attention back to their conversation. “If anyone messed with your truck, Savage and the guys will find out. This town’s small, and people around here love to gossip.”
Beast nodded. “I appreciate him doing that for me. Hell, I appreciate everything he’s doing to help me out while I’m in town. You too,” he said, almost whispering that last part. “Thank you for your kindness, Belle.”
She shyly nodded her head. “Don’t thank me yet,” she said.
“My kindness is free, but around here, answers tend to come with strings. Once Savage starts asking around about your slashed tires, you might find that out.” Beast wasn’t surprised.
Huntsville felt like the kind of place where everyone knew everyone’s business—and everyone’s enemies.
The kind of place where secrets grew roots, not just people.
He stood, stretching out the stiffness from too many hours on the road and one unexpectedly deep night of sleep. “I’m going to check out the parking lot. Maybe I missed something last night, and the daylight will help me find a clue.”
Belle stood and grabbed their plates. “You want company?” The question was simple, but her tone wasn’t. It was soft, maybe a little hopeful, and damn it if it didn’t have him reading too much into her question.
“I—” Beast cleared his throat. “Sure, I’d love some company.” Savage stood a few feet away, watching the two of them as though he were Belle’s guardian. He didn’t comment, but Beast caught the knowing raise of an eyebrow as Belle passed him on her way to the bar.
He waited for her to dump the dishes in the kitchen, and then they walked out into the afternoon, the brightness of the day a stark contrast to the dim bar behind them.
Beast’s rig sat where he left it—big, solid, dependable, and wounded.
The two slashed tires sagged against the gravel like they’d given up, and that made him feel like doing the same.
Belle shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “You really think someone was sending a message, or just goofing around?”
“I don’t have enemies here. Hell, I don’t even know anyone in this town.” Beast crouched beside one of the tires, fingers brushing the ragged cut left behind from a knife. It was a clean slice, probably with a sharp blade. “But someone wanted to slow me down.”
Belle hesitated before stepping closer. “Maybe slowing down isn’t always a bad thing.”
He looked up at her, caught off guard by how close she was. Close enough to smell her shampoo, it was something light and sweet, and she was close enough that he could see the gold flecks in her eyes he hadn’t noticed last night under the bar’s low lighting.
“Depends,” he said quietly. “Some people don’t do well standing still. I never have. It’s why I’ve been on the road for over a year.”
Her smile was small but genuine. “Maybe you just haven’t found a good enough reason to try to slow down.
” Dammit—she had hit a nerve, not that he’d tell her that.
He wasn’t the kind of man who got derailed by a pretty face.
He wasn’t the kind who made small towns part of his life story.
He was a drifter by nature, a wanderer by choice.
But Belle said it without push or pressure—just a simple truth she dropped between them, letting him decide what to do with it.
Beast swallowed hard. “Belle—” An engine revved sharply in the distance, and both of them turned. It was a bike, and it was coming in fast. Belle stiffened, just a little, but he saw it.
“Friend of yours?” Beast asked.
“No.” Her voice was soft, edged with something he didn’t like. “And whoever it is, they’re not here for a beer and a good time.” The bike slowed, rolling into the lot. The rider cut the engine but didn’t get off—just stared at them through a dark visor.
Beast rose to his full height, ready for a fight if he needed to be. He wasn’t part of Huntsville’s problems. But he was damn sure standing in the middle of one now, and there was no way that he’d let the asshole on the bike anywhere near Belle.
Belle stepped closer to him without thinking, like instinct, putting him between herself and danger. And that, more than the slashed tires, more than Savage’s warning, told Beast his short, accidental stay in Huntsville wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
“Stay behind me,” he murmured. Belle didn’t argue, and Beast realized for the first time since he’d rolled into town on four good tires that he didn’t mind the idea of sticking around until he knew exactly who the hell was trying to pick a fight in Savage Hell’s parking lot.