Roommating (Preston's Mill #1) (11 page)

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Authors: Noelle Adams,Samantha Chase

BOOK: Roommating (Preston's Mill #1)
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He couldn’t believe how much his perception of her had
changed in only a couple of weeks.

When they were done, they cleaned up together, and before
she had the chance, he had Lucy’s leash out and was putting it on her.

“Chris, I really don’t mind walking her myself,” Heather
said, coming toward him.

“You look very comfortable and relaxed. You don’t want to
put shoes back on and go outside, do you?”

“I could throw on some flip-flops—”

“I’m halfway out the door. We’ll be back in a few minutes,”
he said, giving her a quick wave as he opened the door and let Lucy lead the
way.

But not before he saw the shy smile on Heather’s face.

It wasn’t as if he was being cold and calculated about what
he was doing. He simply knew that Lucy meant a lot to her, and if he took good
care of her dog, it would go a long way in showing how he really was a good
guy.

Lucy’s tags jingled as they walked, and he silently prayed
that Estelle wasn’t going to jump out at them again. They made it outside and
then back, without incident. Once they were back in the apartment, he unhooked
the dog and got her a treat. Heather was just coming out of her bedroom and
smiled at them.

“Thank you,” she said softly. But there was something in her
eyes. Something soft and a little dreamy and he just wanted to dive in and stay
right there—keep that look on her face.

“It wasn’t a big deal. She’s really not such a bad dog.” He
turned to grab something to drink, but he noticed that Heather was suddenly
standing close. And getting closer. “Hi,” he said quietly, facing her, and once
again, he reached up and caressed her cheek.

“Hi.”

God, but her voice—that husky whisper—turned him on. He
swallowed hard and had to fight the urge to simply haul her in close and kiss
her until they were both breathless. It would be beyond satisfying, but he knew
it could also work against him. This time, she’d need to be the one to make the
first move.

And she did.

They were practically touching from head to toe when she
looked up at him. “Thank you for dinner.”

He smiled down at her, still marveling at how soft her skin
was. “My pleasure.”

“And the flowers.”

This time, he simply nodded.

“And the wine.”

She was nervous. He could tell. More than anything, he
wanted to tell her that she had nothing to be nervous about. That he wanted her
as much as she wanted him and…

Heather whispered his name as her hand came up and anchored
around his nape and pulled his head down to hers. All he could think was,
finally
!
The first touch of her lips was soft and tentative. He had to remember to not
dive in and devour—no matter how much he wanted to. But it didn’t take long for
things to spiral out of control, and he wasn’t sure who was the one to push it
that way.

It was all heat and need as his arms banded around her waist
so she was pressed up against him. Heather’s hands raked up into his hair and
gripped tight. It was all pleasure and a little bit of pain, but more than
anything, it was right. His tongue dueled with hers and for a moment, he
considered picking her up and carrying her to bed.

But Heather broke the kiss and took a fast step back. She
was breathless and flushed and so damn sexy. He said her name, but that had her
taking another step back. “I…I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

What? Seriously? “Yes, it should have,” he countered. “Look,
I know what you said—”

“This isn’t me. I mean, this isn’t something that I do. Casual,”
she stammered as she kept making her way back toward her bedroom. “Um, I…I have
some work to do. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” And with that, she
turned, walked to her room and quietly shut the door.

He was still trying to catch his breath and figure out what
the hell had just happened, when he heard Lucy whimper beside him. When he
looked down, she cocked her head to the side and eyed him curiously. “You think
you’re confused,” he said, “join the club.”

With nothing left to do, he walked over to the counter,
poured himself the rest of the wine and then walked across the room and sat on
Flo. The TV was a good distraction, and he pulled up ESPN and settled in for
some mindless entertainment. Lucy walked over and tried to jump up in his lap,
but it was too far of a jump. Taking pity on her, Chris leaned over, picked her
up and held her in his arms against his chest.

She wasn’t the woman he imagined he’d be snuggled up with
tonight, but it was obvious she was the only woman willing to take a chance on
him.

Eleven

 

Heather got very little sleep. She
lay awake in her bed, tossing and turning and brooding about Chris.

It was so hard, when you knew you shouldn’t do anything but
you wanted to so much.

She wasn’t feeling any better or clearer in the morning.
Since she was awake, she went into work early and tried to drown her worries
with mindless administrative tasks, but it didn’t really work. At least Chris
didn’t put in an appearance all day. Maybe he’d gotten the message at last.

It was bad enough to be attracted to him when he was annoyed
with her. It was even worse when he was coming on to her the way he had last
night, acting all sweet and romantic.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to resist him like
that.

Instead of going back to the apartment, she went to see her
father after work. He was out of the hospital now and doing pretty well, but
she liked to check in on him.

Plus, she really didn’t want to see Chris.

Her father was lounging in his recliner, watching an old
Western, when she knocked on the door and let herself in.

“Hey, Dad,” she said with a smile, coming over to kiss him
on the cheek so he wouldn’t have to get up to greet her. “How are you feeling?”

“Bored.”

“The doctor said you needed to take it easy for a week or
two.”

“I know what he said, but I wasn’t cut out for sitting
around all day.”

“It won’t be forever. Try to enjoy it. Do you need something
to drink?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a beer.”

“How about a water? The doctor said you need to drink a lot
of it.”

Her father grumbled but didn’t object, so Heather went to
get two bottles of water from the refrigerator. Then she came back to the
living room and sat on the couch, feeling tired and confused and kind of glum.

“What’s the matter?” her dad asked.

“Nothing really.” She tried to smile but didn’t really
succeed. Her father’s kind eyes made her chest hurt, and she found herself
saying, “It’s just that…that my living situation isn’t all that easy.”

“It’s always hard to live with someone, no matter who it is.”

“But it’s harder if it’s Christopher Dole.”

“He’s not a bad guy. You know that.”

She slanted her father a questioning look, confused by the
knowing note in his voice. “He’s not all bad—of course he isn’t. But that
doesn’t mean I want to be his roommate. Don’t you think there’s any way you
could rethink this crazy scenario you’ve set up? We’ve been doing fine as
partners in the business. I don’t really think we need to be roommates to make
it work out.”

She hadn’t planned to ask her father for a way out of their
deal when she’d come over. That felt kind of weak, and she didn’t like to give
up on things—no matter how ridiculous those things were. But her chest was
fluttering with such anxiety at the thought of more months living with
Chris—wanting him the way she did and knowing she couldn’t really have him—that
she was suddenly desperate.

“Now, Heather,” her father said slowly, in that chiding
voice he’d always used when she was asking for something unreasonable.

“It’s not a silly request, Dad. I did give it a good try.
But I don’t think you understand how hard it is to live with someone of the
opposite sex who you’re not…not together with and who you have a complicated
relationship with.”

“I think I can imagine.”

“Can you? I don’t know. Most dads wouldn’t want their
daughters to live with some guy like Chris, especially after what he did to
us.” She softened her words with an almost teasing look. “You know that,
right?”

“I do know that,” her father replied with a little smile.
“But I’m not most dads, and you’re not most daughters.” His smile faded as he
added soberly, “And what Chris did isn’t anything like what your mother did to
us.”

Heather gulped, the words hitting her like a blow. “What?”

“You heard me.”

It took a moment for her to get control of her emotions. To
give herself time, she took a long swallow of water. Then she finally said
tightly, “They both walked out on us when we trusted them. I don’t think it’s
as different as you claim.”

“Of course they’re different.
Of course
they are. Chris
came back when we needed him.”

She couldn’t speak over the tightness in her throat, and she
had no idea what to say anyway.

Maybe her father was right. Maybe she was holding on to her
resentment about his abandonment when it was time to let it go. Maybe the way
Chris had returned when her father asked him to was proof that he wasn’t who
her mother was.

Maybe she was letting her longstanding abandonment issues
get in the way of what could possibly be a really good relationship.

“He came back, Heather,” her father murmured. “And now he’s
not going anywhere.”

She nodded, trying to rein in a wave of tears. It must be
the lack of sleep—making her so emotional. She didn’t normally cry this easily.

Her dad must have read her expression because he was silent
for a minute, until she’d controlled herself and managed to relax again.

Then her father leaned forward. “I know you’re trying to
protect yourself. And I know you’re trying to protect me—the way you always
have. But Chris isn’t a threat to us, and I think you need to really believe
that. So the roommate arrangement still applies.”

“Okay,” she managed to say. “I’ll…I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

“Do you want me to fix you some dinner?”

“Nah. Glenda Wilson from church brought me over a casserole.
I’m just going to heat it up. I need to get out of this chair anyway.”

“Okay. I’ll…I’ll be getting home then.” She stood up,
suddenly wanting to see Chris, wanting to talk to him.

“Good plan.” He had that knowing expression on his face
again, and it made Heather rather nervous, in a way she couldn’t explain. “I’ll
talk to you tomorrow.”

As she made her way down the front walk, she paused in front
of the little birdhouse that hung in the tree, emotion catching suddenly in her
throat as she stared at it.

Her mother hadn’t come back—even when she and her father had
needed her. She hadn’t been there when Heather had her first period, when she’d
started to date, when she was trying to decide where to go to college.

Her mother wasn’t here now, when it felt like she might be
starting to fall in love.

But Chris had come back. Her father was right. It was
entirely different with Chris.

She wasn’t going to let her old fears and insecurities keep
her from something really good.

She nodded at the birdhouse, feeling a surge of
determination again.

She was going to talk to Chris.

***

When Heather returned to Preston’s
Mill, she was so fluttery she was having trouble breathing. It felt like
something important was about to happen, but she wasn’t even sure what it was.

She tried to stay quiet as she walked down the hall, but she
must not have been quiet enough. Estelle poked her head out the door just as
Heather was passing.

“What’s going on, young lady?” Estelle demanded, her hair
wound tightly in her standard pink sponge curlers.

Heather jerked to a stop. “Good evening, Mrs. Berry,” she
managed to say with her normal politeness. “What do you mean?”

“Something is going on. I’ve been feeling vibes. Your young
man has been stalking around for a couple of days, like a bear who’s lost its
honey, and you look as jumpy as a rabbit who wants to get a carrot but is too
nervous to cross the fence.”

Heather didn’t actually appreciate being referred to as a
rabbit, but she had to admit that Estelle had picked up on the vibes correctly.
The woman might be wacky, but she was also strangely insightful. “It’s…nothing
to worry about,” she said at last, having no idea what else to say.

“I’m not worried,” Estelle said with a scowl. “I’m tired of
all this tension in the air. Figure it out with your young man, would you? I’m
old and I need peace.”

Then the old lady slammed the door in Heather’s face.

Heather stared for a moment, not sure whether to laugh or
blush or be annoyed.

She ended up doing none of those things. She just kept
walking toward her own apartment door.

When she entered, Chris was in the kitchen, loading some
groceries into the refrigerator. He glanced back as she stepped inside. “What
was that?” he asked. “It sounded like a door slammed.”

“It was Estelle. She was…” Heather trailed off, shrugging.
“She was being Estelle.”

“She gave me a little lecture when I came in,” Chris said,
turning around and leaning against the granite counter. “She told me she was
too old to put up with vibes, and I was to stop emitting them immediately.”

Heather giggled, leaning down to greet an ecstatic Lucy.
“She told me the same thing.”

Suddenly feeling better about everything, she put down her
purse, scooped up Lucy, and walked into the kitchen area to join Chris.

Chris’s eyes were soft on her face, as if he recognized her
altered mood. “So I guess we need to stop emitting vibes,” he murmured.

“Yeah.” She cuddled Lucy, partly because she wanted to and
partly because it gave her something to do with her hands. “I guess we need to
work on that.”

“How do you suppose we do that?” He stepped closer to her,
looking handsome and sexy and fond and irresistible.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t you?”

Heather swallowed. “I, uh, actually I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” His expression changed slightly, tightening
with something that looked like hope.

“About…us. My dad says I’ve been holding on to a grudge
against you for no good reason, and I’m wondering if he’s right.”

Chris took a moment to process this, and then his gaze grew
even softer. He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek with his knuckles. “And is he
right?”

Heather swayed toward him, trying to make her mind work with
any degree of coherence. “I think maybe he is. It’s…it’s hard for me to trust.
I have a few issues with people leaving me, after what happened with my mom.”

“That’s totally understandable. And I know I did walk out on
you and your dad, when you both trusted me. I’m not going to do it again.”

“I hope not.” She swallowed hard again, suddenly terrified
by what she seemed to be saying. “I’m not saying that I’m all in or anything.
It’s still early for us. But I do think we’re good together, and I’m willing to
give it a try.”

His hand grew still, cupping her cheek. “When you say give
it a try, do you mean…”

“Us. Like this. I’m willing to give it a try.”

He gave a little groan and pulled her into a kiss. It was
warm and urgent and emotional, and Heather was lost in it almost immediately.
She wrapped one arm around his neck, still holding Lucy in the other—and opened
her mouth to the advance of his tongue.

She wasn’t sure how far the kiss would have gone had Lucy
not decided that something very strange was happening. The dog stretched up and
gave Chris’s jaw a hard jab with her muzzle, the way she did when she was
checking out a possible threat.

Chris broke off the kiss with a huff.

Heather giggled and leaned over to set Lucy down, giving her
a few reassuring strokes. “It’s okay, Miss Lucy,” she murmured. “He’s not doing
anything wrong.”

Chris reached down to pull Heather to her feet. “I sure hope
not. But maybe I could use some more practice.”

Heather smiled at him, washed with excitement and pleasure
and something akin to hope. “More practice will have to wait. Lucy needs to go
out, and I’m kind of hungry.”

“What about if I take you out for dinner?”

Heather’s eyes widened. “Like a date?”

“Yes, like a date. I thought that’s what you meant when you
said you’d give it a try.”

“It is what I meant,” Heather admitted, nervousness mingling
with all of her other emotions. “And I’d like to go out with you.”

She was also kind of scared, though. If they went out, then
everyone in town would know.

And that would make this thing between them real.

***

Chris took her to eat at one of the
nicer restaurants in town. Nothing in Preston was particularly fancy, but this
restaurant had good food and a pleasant, quiet ambience, and it wasn’t very
crowded on a weekday evening.

Chris was charming the whole time, and she could tell he was
making an effort to show her what a good date he could be. It was almost
exhilarating, the knowledge that he wanted her so much, that it was important
to him that she continue to go out with him. He told her funny stories, gave
her subtle, thoughtful compliments, and gazed deeply into her eyes. His smile
was making her giddy, and his warm laughter was making her melt.

By the time they’d ordered dessert, Heather was well on her
way to being swept off her feet. She’d had two glasses of wine, but she’d been
afraid to drink anymore, for fear her inhibitions would be lowered so much
she’d do something stupid.

She was going to give this a try. It was obviously what both
she and Chris wanted, and her father was right about her not holding on to her
resentment when Chris didn’t deserve that.

But she also didn’t want to jump headlong into a
relationship that might end up hurting her.

As she’d expected, they saw several people they knew, and
Heather tried to ignore all the interested looks from people who hadn’t
expected her and Chris to be dating.

That was the problem with a small town. One date could
suddenly blow up into a full-fledged relationship in the town’s eyes.

As they were leaving the restaurant, Chris asked, “Do you
want to walk a little? It’s a nice night.”

“Sure.” She smiled as he took her hand, and they started
down the main street of Preston. It was dark out now, but the town had done a
good job with street lights, and there were several other people out, walking
to their cars or just taking a stroll down to the river.

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