Roommating (Preston's Mill #1) (3 page)

“Good. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve written up some ground
rules for us to go over,” she said as she went to sit down at the kitchen
table.

Rules? No comment about his hair?

Rather than argue, he went and sat down beside her and
chuckled when she slid a sheet of paper in his direction. “You printed out the
rules for us to live by?” he asked incredulously.

“It seemed the most efficient thing to do. I just drafted up
some to begin with, and we can discuss them.”

He rolled his eyes and then settled in to scan the page. But
he was completely aware of Heather sitting there watching him—as if waiting for
him to find fault with something.

And he did.

“I’m not agreeing to number three.”

She instantly picked up her copy and scanned it. “And why not?”

“Because I enjoy watching TV late at night. I’m not going to
let you give me a curfew. That’s crazy!”

“It’s not a curfew. But I like to go to sleep at a
reasonable hour. You can’t tell me that you have to have the television on
full-blast late at night.”

“Ah, but it doesn’t say that here, does it? All it says is
no TV after eleven. What am I, ten years old? We’re roommates, Heather. You’re
not my mom.”

She sighed loudly and crossed it off the list, and he went
back to reading. “And number seven is stupid.”

“Why?” she asked, clearly irritated.

“I’m not splitting the refrigerator in half. Believe me,
I’ll know what food is yours and what’s mine. I don’t think we’re going to have
that problem. And if by some chance I eat some of your peanut butter, I’ll go
out and get you more.”

Chris read the rest of the list, and then stood up and
grabbed both copies and crumpled them up.

“Hey!” Heather objected, coming to her feet. “What in the
world? We’re never going to be able to work this crazy situation out if we
don’t have a few ground rules.”

He spun around and stood facing her. “Here’s the deal—we
both live here, and neither one of us should be dictating how the other lives. You
want rules, here they are. You buy your own food, I’ll buy mine. You cook for
yourself, and I’ll cook for me. Neither of us should be expected to wait on the
other one. You with me so far?”

She nodded, although her eyes were narrowed as if she
weren’t thinking happy thoughts about him.

“Good. You clean up after yourself, and I’ll clean up after
me. Okay?”

She nodded again.

“We’re both going to pay equal parts on the utilities—fifty-fifty.
I take quick showers, and I put my dishes in the dishwasher, and I turn out
lights when I leave the room. If you insist on taking hour-long showers and
washing every piece of silverware by hand, I’m gonna amend that rule and ask
you to pay more on the water bill.”

“Same applies,” she countered. “If you end up using more of
the utilities.”

“Fine by me.” Then he paused. “We’re not joined at the hip. We
may have to work together and live together, but we have separate lives. If we
want to ride to work together and save on gas, great. But it’s not a
requirement.”

“Agreed.”

And as much as he tried to think, they seemed to have covered
all the basics. “If either of us comes up with something else, we’ll talk about
it. No lists. No dictating, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Do we uh…do we need to shake on it?”

Heather seemed to consider her options and held out a hand
to him. “Sure. Why not?”

Taking her hand in his, Chris immediately realized his
mistake. Her hand was small and soft, and he got a little jolt of awareness at
the contact. He quickly pulled his hand away and took a step back.

“So, um, it looks like you got a lot done here today. It
looks good.”

She beamed at his praise. “Thanks. And you’ll notice that
your chair is exactly where you left it.”

“I did and thank you.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be
so bad. They were capable of having decent conversations without animosity, it
seemed. Maybe clearing the air was the way to go.

“It’s certainly an eclectic look—more so than I’m used to,
but I think it will work. And like you said earlier, it’s only for six months.”

She smiled at him—a genuine smile—and Chris felt himself
relax. There was a time when they’d been friends, and although the last time
they’d been together—three years ago—they’d been screaming at one another, this
was the girl he remembered.

Only…prettier.

Softer.

With great legs.

Down boy
. He needed to get comfortable in the
friend-zone here. They had six months of living and working in close proximity
to one another, and he could not afford to let himself think about her as
anything but a business partner and roommate. This was too important. He
refused to let Tom down.

Again.

Clearing his throat, he walked over to the refrigerator and
opened it. “I only grabbed a few things from the grocery store yesterday, so I
think I’m going to order a pizza for dinner. I was driving around today and saw
that Tony’s was still there.”

She nodded. “Still the best pizza in town too. Maybe we
could split a pizza?”

Her voice and her expression were hopeful, and Chris readily
agreed. “Pepperoni?”

“Like there’s anything else,” she said with a laugh, and
Chris definitely felt more relaxed. He called in the order and made arrangements
for it to be delivered. “How long?” she asked.

“Thirty minutes. I think I’m just gonna go and…” A small
jingling sound had him stopping in his tracks and looking around.

“Is something wrong?” Heather asked, and he noted a small
smirk on her face.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Waiting, he held up a hand when the jingling sound happened
again. “That! I heard a jingling sound. What do you think it was? It’s not a
sound you’d hear from the plumbing, and these walls are fairly thick and
well-insulated so we shouldn’t be hearing anything from the neighbors.”

The jingling got louder, and when he saw exactly where it
was coming from, he was mildly horrified. “What…what the…Where the hell did
that come from?”

Heather’s smile grew as she bent down and scooped the
tiny…well, it looked like a dog, but it could have been some sort of rodent
too. She walked over with…it…in her arms. “This is Little Miss Lucy,” she
cooed.

“Uh, what?”

She rolled her eyes and snuggled the
thing
closer. “Little
Miss Lucy. She’s my dog.”

“Are you sure she’s a dog, because she looks like a rat.”

“No, she doesn’t! And that’s just mean.” She stroked the
dog’s back and kissed her on the head. “Don’t pay any attention to him, my
little miss.”

He studied the dog and had to fight the urge to cringe. It
was tiny—maybe five pounds—and it had pink bows in its hair and some sort of
sparkly collar on. It looked completely ridiculous. “So…Lucy,” he said.

Heather met his gaze. “Little Miss Lucy.”

“Yeah, I’m not calling her that.”

“But it’s her name.”

He raked a hand through his hair as he sighed with
frustration. “I might call her Lucy but honestly, I’ll probably just call her
dog.”

The look of horror on her face told him that it was the
wrong thing to say.

“Look,” he quickly added. “I’m not a dog person, and I’m
really not a tiny dog person. Can’t she just stay in your room?”

And then that look of horror turned to a look that was maybe
just a little bit evil. Heather stepped in closer as that evil smile grew. “Oh
no,” she began. “She can’t stay in my bedroom. She likes having room to roam
around, and besides, I like to cuddle with her while I sit and watch TV.”

Then she put the dog down. “I’ll just go and grab some cash
for my share of the pizza.”

And in that moment, he knew the battle lines had officially
been drawn.

The next day, Heather came home
after work feeling encouraged. Almost optimistic. Maybe this ridiculous
arrangement wouldn’t be as bad as she’d feared.

Today had gone better than yesterday. Other than looking at
each other over coffee mugs in the morning, she’d barely seen Chris all day. He
was annoying—no doubt about that. And way too smug. And he didn’t even seem to
be sorry for the way he’d treated her father three years ago. But he appeared
to agree with her that they should mostly just keep to themselves. If they were
able to continue doing that, then they’d make it through these six months
without too much trouble.

Hopefully.

As she was leaving the office this morning, her father had
mentioned that Chris was supervising the crew at a job they were running behind
on, so they’d be working until at least seven this evening. That gave her two
hours in the apartment alone.

Another reason to be in a good mood.

Deciding to take advantage of the privacy, she dropped her
purse on the floor in the entry hall, crouched down to greet an ecstatic Lucy,
and then walked into the bathroom, turning on the water in the tub.

She’d been looking forward to making use of the soaker tub.
Now was the perfect time.

While the tub filled, she took Lucy outside and made a quick
batch of cookies. She’d made a batch yesterday and given them to Estelle Berry,
and today she wanted to make a batch for old Mr. Johnson downstairs.

She’d learned when she was a girl that making cookies was
such a simple thing to do, but it made people so happy, made them feel
appreciated. She’d been giving friends and neighbors cookies for most of her
life.

It just took a few minutes to mix up the dough, and while
they were in the oven, she poured herself a glass of Merlot, turned on some
music, and lit a few candles in the bathroom. After she’d taken the cookies out
of the oven to cool, she pulled off her clothes and got in to soak, leaving the
door partly cracked so Lucy could come in and out as she liked.

Otherwise, the dog would scratch at the door insistently. It
was just barely five-thirty. Chris wouldn’t be home for an hour and a half.

The tub was amazing—long enough to fit her body and deep
enough for a very enjoyable soak. She relaxed, letting her mind drift and
occasionally chatting to Lucy when the dog wandered in to investigate the
situation.

After about twenty minutes, Heather opened her eyes when she
heard the sound of a door close.

It was probably just Mrs. Berry or another one of the
neighbors. The walls were thicker than a lot of newer builds, but one could
still hear a lot of noises from the hallway. She leaned back against the tub
and closed her eyes again, wondering what had Lucy all excited.

Her little claws on the hardwood floor were tapping like crazy.

“Heather?” The male voice was familiar, but it was also
shocking, since it was coming from the doorway to the bathroom.

The doorway to the bathroom!

Her eyes shot open, and she squealed when she saw Chris
looking in, Lucy dancing ecstatically at his feet.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, trying to hide under the
water until she realized that there were no bubbles to hide beneath. She’d only
put in some lavender and honey scented bath salts. “What are you doing here?”

Chris blinked, his gaze focused decidedly lower than it
should be. “I live here.”

“But you’re not supposed to be here until after seven!” Her
mind shifting quickly into crisis mode, she grabbed her towel, which she’d
fortunately placed within arm’s reach, and lifted it to cover herself as she
stood up.

“Was that a rule I missed?” His voice was dry and gruff, as
usual, but he was decidedly distracted, his eyes raking over her bare dripping
legs and the damp towel.

She scowled at him and gestured to her face. “Eyes up here.”

He managed to raise his eyes to meet hers. “You’re the one
taking a bath with the door open.”

“That was for Lucy!” She was flustered and embarrassed and
also just a little bit excited, although that last reaction was probably just a
fluke.

“She likes to leer at you while you’re naked?”

“No! She likes to come in and out. You weren’t supposed to
be home until after seven.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” He seemed amused now,
although his eyes did occasionally drift back down to her body. “I didn’t
realize you’d given me a schedule.”

“Dad said that you were working at the Harmon job until
after seven.” She managed to say this more lucidly, since she realized
squealing wasn’t the best way to express her quite reasonable assumption.

“The crew is working. But there was no reason for me to stay
there the whole time.”

Typical of him to slack off before the job was done. He was
always walking away when things got hard. She decided not to say so, though,
since she was genuinely trying to get along with the man. “I didn’t know that.”

“I can see that.” He frowned as he glanced around at the
flickering candles. “Why do you have all these candles lit and the music on? I
thought you might have someone here with you.”

Naturally, his mind would go immediately to her getting it
on with some guy in their apartment. She gave him a prim little frown. “There’s
no one here with me. I thought, since you weren’t here, I’d have a little
private time.”

“Oh.” Something changed on his face. “
Oh
.” The second
time, he drawled out the word, stretching it out far longer than it should have
been.

It took her a moment to realize what he was implying. When
she did, she gasped and hugged the towel to her more closely. “Not like
that
!”

Did he actually think she was in here with the candles and
music, having a little fun with herself?

“Ah. Too bad. That would have been something to walk in on.”

He was teasing her, she realized. Making fun of her
responses. With effort, she reined in her indignation. “Now, if you don’t mind,
I’d like to put some clothes on.”

“No problem.” He started to leave but glanced at her over
his shoulder, his dark eyes deliciously warm. “Next time you want a little
private time, maybe hang a sock on the door.”

She almost—almost—laughed.

Then he added, “Who are those cookies for?”

“They’re for Mr. Johnson. Don’t eat any!”

“Not even one?”

“I didn’t make them for you!”

She normally wouldn’t have been stingy with cookies, but she
was too rattled now to be generous. And mostly she wanted him out of the bathroom.

He was grumbling as he closed the door.

He really was much too good-looking, now that he’d gotten
rid of all that extraneous hair. He looked more like he used to look, when
she’d considered him part of her family, when she’d thought he was the best guy
in the world.

She sighed as she pulled on her robe and blew out the
candles.

He wasn’t that guy anymore.

***

Heather spent most of the evening in
her room, since it was the only place that really felt like hers. She actually
ended up falling asleep early, and she woke up at eleven at night, realizing
that Lucy would need to go out once more before bed.

She was wearing a tank top and a pair of pink cotton pajama
pants, and she decided she was dressed more than adequately to be seen by Chris.
After all, if they were roommates, she could hardly be worrying about covering
every inch of skin any time she left her bedroom.

When she stepped out of her room, the first thing she
noticed was her traitorous little dog, curled up right in Chris’s lap.

The second thing she noticed was there were two men in the
living room, when she’d expected to only see one.

She jerked to a stop, staring at the second man, who was
sitting on her pretty red chair. He was cute in an absent-minded way, with
thick, rumpled hair and a half-turned-up collar.

“You remember Jace Foster?” Chris asked. “He was in my class
at school. I just discovered he lives downstairs.”

Heather frowned, trying to place him. Jace was good-looking,
although not as good-looking as Chris, and he looked both easy-going and
intelligent. “Sure,” she said slowly. “It’s good to see you.”

“She doesn’t remember you,” Chris said with a wry smile.

“You probably remember me with glasses,” Jace said, not
looking remotely offended. “I was on the chess team.”

“Oh, yeah!” She smiled, pleased that she could now place the
man in her memory. “You used to always hang out with Isabella Warren.”

“Evidently, he still does,” Chris put in.

Since this sounded rather snide, Heather ignored it. She
came closer, still smiling at Jace. “You look great. I never would have
recognized you.”

“Thanks,” Jace said.

At the same time, Chris muttered, “He doesn’t look
that
great.”

This comment made Jace laugh and Heather frown. She didn’t
know why the man always had to be so rude.

She was about to say something else friendly—to Jace, not to
Chris—when she noticed that the eyes of both of the men weren’t exactly staying
up on her face. She glanced down at herself and was startled to see that her
nipples were tight and poking out visibly through the thin fabric of her tank
top.

Okay. That was a little too much for mixed company. She was
relieved to see the belted sweater she’d worn to work this morning flung across
a stool at the granite bar. She stepped over to grab it, covering up the object
of their distraction.

“I need to take Lucy out before bed,” she said, snapping her
fingers. “Lucy.”

The dog lifted her head from Chris’s lap and gave her a look
of quiet indignation.

“Lucy, come!” Heather snapped, with more authority. She
wasn’t going to have her dog switching loyalties to someone like Chris.

This time, the dog heaved herself up and jumped down from
the ugly orange recliner.

The recliner named Flo.

“I better be getting home,” Jace said, getting up and
leaning over to pet Lucy. “It was good to see both of you. I’ll see you
around.” He smiled at her. “I’ll walk you down.”

Heather smiled back, studiously ignoring the fact that Chris
was glowering.

She called for Lucy once more, and they walked out to the
hallway. As they were passing Estelle Berry’s door, it flew opened.

The woman must spend half the day looking out her peephole.

“Isn’t one young man enough for you?” she demanded, still
wearing those same pink sponge rollers. Heather had never seen her without
them.

“What?”

Estelle gave Jace a disapproving look.

“Oh, he’s not mine either,” Heather said quickly. “He was
just visiting. He lives downstairs.”

“I should hope so. I understand modern arrangements, but a
threesome
would be going too far.”

Heather and Jace exchanged amused glances as Estelle slammed
her door shut.

They walked downstairs, trying not to laugh. Then she waved
goodbye to Jace before she stepped outside. It was still warm out—too warm for
the sweater. But she really didn’t want to show the world her nipples.

Lucy was usually good about doing her business quickly,
since she preferred to be inside than outside. But today she ran around in
circles.

Heather watched her, starting to get worried when the
circles continued. The dog only did that when she had an upset stomach.

Sure enough, when Lucy finally started going, it wasn’t a
pleasant sight.

“Oh no! You poor thing. Did you eat something you shouldn’t
have?” Heather tried to think back to what Lucy had eaten today, but she hadn’t
gotten anything but her dog-food and the few treats she was allowed.

Unless Chris had stuffed the dog full of junk food.

Lucy took a long time getting everything out, and she kept
trying even after there was nothing left.

“Are you okay now?” Heather asked the little dog, when Lucy
came over and stared up at her pitifully. “Are you ready to go in?”

Lucy wagged her tail just slightly. Then she turned around
and started running circles again.

Heather sighed. The poor little thing.

“What’s wrong with her?” a voice came from behind her.

She jerked slightly before she realized that it was just Chris.
He was still dressed in the jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing all day, and he
was looking at Lucy with curiosity rather than sympathy.

“I thought you got lost out here or something,” he added.

“She has digestive issues,” Heather said. “She has a very
sensitive system.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“There’s no reason to be mean about it. She’s a sweet little
girl, and she’s sick.” Heather slanted him a quick look. “You didn’t feed her
people-food or anything, did you?”

He arched his eyebrows. “I didn’t feed her anything, but she
stole a piece of my bacon this morning.”

“No wonder she’s sick! How did she steal it?”

“She jumped right up onto a chair and then onto the table,
and she snatched it off my plate.” He sounded like he still resented the thievery.

“Well, you need to be careful not to leave chairs positioned
so she can jump onto the table. She gets sick when she eats people food.”

“I can see that.” He gave her a quick look. “Don’t give me
that look. It’s not my fault she’s a little thief. She can blame her own
greediness for her suffering now.”

Despite herself, she wanted to smile at his dry, clever
tone.

They stood together in the dark as Lucy made her circles on
the grass. After a few minutes, Chris asked, “How long have you had her?”

“Four years.” Heather sighed. “It feels like I’ve had her
forever.”

“She seems quite attached to you.”

“She is. And I just love her. It’s so nice to have someone
who is always loyal, who is always so happy to see you.”