The scent of brewing coffee was positively heavenly, even if a nagging voice in Randy’s head kept telling him it was too late for caffeine. The aroma was complemented by the smell of an unseen but obviously diligent woodstove or fireplace that managed to keep the house warm but not stuffy, and in an instant Randy was heartsick over how much he missed his own.
Vaughn set two unmatched, wide-mouthed mugs on the table—a colossal thing that looked like it had been hewn from ancient timber and then varnished once a lifetime for the last dozen lifetimes—and then turned back to a fridge that was startlingly modern against the rest of the kitchen. Even the sink, with its gooseneck taps and marked porcelain finish, looked to be about a hundred years old.
Vaughn glanced over his shoulder and force
