It was still light when they roared to a stop in a clearing, the middle of what Angie figured was the biggest deepest forest she'd pictured outside of a fairy tale. Having been a lifelong city dweller she'd been on brief forays into various types of countryside but had never actually visited something as huge or impressive as this. The sun filtering through the trees lit the back of a small rough-looking cabin with a wraparound log porch. Again, something out of a fairy tale. It was set up on a low rise that dropped away from the front of the structure and into a small meadow bordered by yet more dense foliage. Talk about away

Tyler rolled the bike up on the stand and had already pulled off his helmet and tossed it aside, marching onto the porch to check if Reno had set the place up as directed. When Angie climbed off the bike herself she didn't expect to thoroughly lose her balance.

"Oh, shit," she lamented, and Tyler turned just in time to see her fall flat on her ass. He'd forgotten she'd never ridden, and the ride they'd taken was just long and rough enough to shake up a newbie when the time came to stand on her feet again. Tyler jogged to where she lay and leaned down, hands on his knees.

"I guess I forgot to mention be careful getting off…"

She was tired, sore, and embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess," she groaned but took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.

"Feel free to take a look around," he told her, "nobody here but us. Don't go too far though." He didn't need her wandering off into nowhere.

"That's okay, I'll leave a trail of breadcrumbs," Angie quipped.

"Go ahead," he responded casually before he went inside, "the bears'll appreciate 'em."

"Ha, ha." But she limited herself to a circuit around the cabin. There was a shed next door (not an outhouse, thank God) that housed an electric generator. Two large tanks of kerosene stood nearby, and another even larger one stenciled in red "RAINWATER", piped to the cabin and mounted with tall solar panels aimed toward a wide opening in the trees. There was a lean-to partially filled with firewood, an axe and other tools. Angie walked partway down the front slope to the little meadow, taking in the view. Christ, it looked like one of those postcards, "Wish you were here". And they were.

"Enough quiet for you?" Tyler called from the front door.

Angie trudged up to the porch, stood, and listened for a moment. A little too early for the peepers to come out, if she'd known what they were, but she could hear all manner of birds.

"Wow, lots of birdies, huh?" She was a little overwhelmed. "All I ever got to hear was pigeons, and the neighbor's parrot."

"You've never been much of anywhere, have you?" Tyler was shaking his head in mock disappointment.

She was a little put out by his certainty, though it was true. "Not so much. I had a busy life, Tyler, and besides I learned about everywhere."

"Not the same." He turned and went inside, and she followed.

"Wow."

Inside was a lot less "rough". The large main room had smooth amber-colored walls paneled in maple, a stone fireplace in one corner and a sink, small electric cook stove, and refrigerator in the back wall. There was a coffeemaker (yay!) and a built-in hutch made of barn board that held pots, pans, dishes, a whole lot more stuff than Angie would expect a seldom-used cabin to have handy. And all of it spotless. The broad planked floor was scattered with braided rugs. Near the fireplace was a large, low cannonball bed with a head and footboard of the same maple as the walls. The bed was covered with blankets and quilts, even a huge fur throw. Closer to the fireplace was a big overstuffed chair, also draped with a quilt.

"Bathroom's through there," he indicated a door to the left of the galley kitchen. "Solar heated water, big tank out back of the shed."

"Yeah, I saw it." Angie went to peek into the bathroom and saw a big clawfoot tub, a separate shower stall, and pedestal china sink with brass fittings. Nothing but the best in the wilderness, she thought to herself. And on another built-in set of shelves in one wall were stacks of big, fluffy towels, washcloths, and a basket of soaps. There was even shampoo and conditioner, and a comb and brush. Tyler appeared at her shoulder as she took it all in.

"Oh good. He remembered the lady-things." The last two words were delivered in an exaggerated Russian accent, prompting a glare from Angie.

"That asshole had nothing to do with this, did he?"

Proud of another button well-pushed, he smiled and assured her, "Nope. Sascha doesn't have this kind of style."

"You're telling me," she mumbled as she walked around the main room again. "Lemme guess, your friend from Bangkok?"

Tyler took some wood from a cubby built into the stone hearth, stacked it atop some old newspaper, set it alight, and stood back as the flames caught. "Yup."

"He's got a long reach," she observed, impressed.

"Long as it needs to be."

"I've gotta meet this guy someday. Zen breathing expert and interior decorator," she waved her hand around the room.

"Nah, most of it's mine. And don't call me an 'interior decorator'." The mock glare warmed with a grin. "Besides, Reno keeps to himself pretty much."

"So did you." Zing.

"Uh-huh." Tyler stood watching as Angie pulled some stuff from her rucksack where he'd dropped it on the bed.

"I see you scored some pj's," he noted as she pulled out the flannels.

She held them up for display and frowned uncertainly. They were powder blue, decorated with prancing bunnies. Weird, for grownup size, but she couldn't bring herself to turn them down when Julie offered them with the rest of the clothes she was given. "I don't know that I'm the bunny-rabbit type."

Tyler shrugged as he approached her, took the pj top from her hands and looked it over.

"I dunno," he mused, then looked her over so calmly and methodically that Angie started to feel self-conscious. He pulled the bandana off her head and ran his hand through the hair that fell down to just below her shoulders. "Brown like a bunny rabbit," he lifted some of it in his fingers, "soft like a bunny rabbit..." He surrounded her in a bear hug, burying his face in her hair and her neck.

"Nice," he murmured next to her ear.

Nice. Such a bland everyday word, but the husky breath behind it made Angie shiver.

Tyler lifted his head and asked, "Cold?"

Was that the hint of a smile she saw in his eyes?

"Nope."

Now the smile, the honest one, spread to the rest of his face. "Didn't think so." He released her and stepped back. "I'm gonna take a shower. Make yourself at home."

What the hell? Angie had been leaning into him so much that she stumbled when he let her go.

"A cold one?" she asked edgily. Did he get some kind of cheap thrill by playing her?

He huffed a short breath and stepped closer again, laid one hand on her shoulder and hooked the other in her belt loop. Casual.

"Listen." He leaned right down nose to nose. "We got all night, and tomorrow, and all the next night. I am not a man who likes to rush. I rush enough out there," he jerked his head toward the front door, then pulled her in and kissed her, deep and easy, his hands not moving from where they were. Angie willed her own hands to stay where she'd thrust them in her pockets, though God knew it wasn't easy to keep from grabbing for that hard ass she'd been pressed up against for over fifty miles.

When he let her up for air Tyler added in that low voice (the one that Angie wanted to roll around in like black velvet), "I like to take my time, if that's okay with you." She nodded, a little dazed. "Good. So slow down, be quiet…"

"And breathe?"

Strolling to the bathroom and peeling off his t shirt as he went, Tyler nodded. "That would be a plus, too."

As he walked away the smooth, unscarred skin of the finely muscled back surprised her. "I'll do my best," she declared.

No guarantees, she added silently.