Trust Me: A Roommates To Lovers Romance Novel (Free Book 2)

by Grahame Claire

  “Holt,” she said carefully.

  I spun around, pretending to inspect something behind me. I couldn’t look at her when she told me no. Until this moment, I didn’t realize how much her answer meant to me. Which was insane. We’d been roommates for weeks. This boundary that separated friendship and something more had barely been breached.

  But when I’d found this place, I’d immediately thought of her. I’d wondered if she would even want something like this, was nervous to show it to her. Cosmetics and car repair didn’t exactly go hand in hand, but that hadn’t mattered.

  My entire adult life had been one impulsive move after another. The decision to go to Wyoming for college. To be a park ranger. Coming back to New York. Moving in with Baker. This place.

  I never thought things through, I just ran from whatever problems plagued me. But I was quickly burning through places to run. The city was where my family was. Even if it hurt being in the same vicinity of my mother, it was equally painful being away from Dad, Andrew, Marlow, and Blake.

  When I’d set foot in this space, it felt right. Then again, Wyoming had felt that way too and it had turned to complete and utter shit. I should know better than anyone that things didn’t just fall into place, even though New York seemed to be doing just that.

  Having my own business wouldn’t be easy, but I’d been working on cars on the side for as long as I could remember. I’d made decent money as a ranger and mechanic, lived modestly, and had enough saved where this wouldn’t sink me. I might have to scrimp while I restored the building and built up a clientele, but it wasn’t impossible. Hard. But definitely doable.

  And I wanted Baker to see what I saw here.

  “We could be the kind of place where women are comfortable to come get their car repaired and not feel like they need a man with them. Where they know they won’t be taken advantage of. And the ones that wait might like to see your makeup.” I was rambling, yet couldn’t seem to shut up. It kept her from flat out rejecting me. Because I didn’t think I could take that.

  I wandered over to the space customers would see and pointed to the long wall. “Here. We could display your products.” It was easy to envision one of those lit up counters like at a department store. “A mirrored wall might be nice.”

  I turned to look at Baker. She was rooted in the same spot, staring at me with an unreadable expression. My confidence took a nose dive. I’d hoped if she saw this place, the potential, that she’d share my vision.

  “What about your job in Wyoming?”

  I swallowed hard. That was about the last thing I’d expected out of her mouth. “I had no idea you were so anxious to get rid of me.”

  The bitterness of my words caught me off guard. I’d never given it a second thought to show her this place. Lay out my dreams. Even if she didn’t want any part of it, I’d wanted her to see me. Wanted her opinion first, even before my family.

  “You’re the one who keeps saying you’re on leave. I take that to mean this is temporary,” she said curtly.

  “Does this look temporary to you?” I spread my arms wide.

  “Looks to me like a man who doesn’t know where he wants to be.”

  “What are you talking about?” I stared at her incredulously, though her words had a ring of truth in them. One I was going to ignore. At some point I had to stop running. “I’m showing you what I see for the future. I’m not the one who doesn’t know that they want.”

  Her shoulders rounded and she folded her arms around her middle. Damn it. I couldn’t stand it when she tried to hide from me. Like I was the enemy.

  I crossed the space that separated us in quick strides. “Easy, I already signed the papers. I want to be in New York. As strange as it may seem, I like my roommate. And I could see us . . . moving apartments. Staying here rather than where we are now.”

  I’d sworn I’d never be vulnerable again, but something about her made me stop thinking. Deep down, I was tired of running. With roots—property, a business, her—I couldn’t just pack up and leave on a whim.

  “So I’m just supposed to go along. The decision’s already been made.” The disappointment she felt in me was palpable. I just didn’t understand it.

  “This place feels right.” I wanted to reach for her, but she was too far away despite standing right in front of me. “It seemed perfect. Soon you’ll outgrow the apartment. You won’t be able to make the quantities of product you’ll need.” I couldn’t stop myself from peeling her hands away from her body and taking them in mine. “If this isn’t the right place, then we’ll find somewhere you like.”

  “You already signed the papers,” she said.

  “This will be my shop. I meant if it wasn’t the right space for you to build your empire, then we’d find somewhere that is.”

  “Empire?” she squeaked.

  I squeezed her hands. “Empire.”

  “It’s just a hobby. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  These moments of vulnerability were night and day from the woman who put lipstick on me without asking. I liked the soft side of Baker, but I wanted her to have confidence in her abilities. I certainly did.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing, either.”

  “You know how to fix a car. Trish told me about what you did for Delores.”

  Something strange happened when she took up for me. I liked it. More than I should.

  “That’s the easy part. I don’t know how to run a business. Be a property owner. Find customers.”

  “I’m beginning to question if you know how to fix a bathroom too.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling and pulled her against me. “Oh yeah?”

  “First it was just the shower that was broken. Now it’s the toilet. I’m not sure I should let you in my bathroom anymore.” There she was. The one who let stuff roll off her back. The one who had no problem using me as a guinea pig.

  “Can’t have it both ways, Easy. Either you live with me smelling like a grease monkey or you let me use our shower.”

  “Our shower? There is no our.”

  “Sure, there is. We’re both using it.”

  She slapped at my chest, but at least she was smiling now. “All right, Grease Monkey. Show me around.”

  * * *

  After we’d wandered the entire space, she swiped off some of the dirt from the front counter. “I think you might be on to something about a repair shop that’s friendly to women.” She glanced around what could be the waiting area for customers. “I remember my mom feeling like she’d been screwed by a mechanic. She never took the car into the shop again.”

  She rarely mentioned any family. I wanted to ask more. When had that happened? Was she close with them at some point? They didn't seem to be now.

  “Did it ever happen to you?” If it had, it wouldn't again under my watch, but we could draw off of her experiences to make things better for customers.

  She looked embarrassed. “I've never had a car. Never had a license.”

  “My dad and brother haven’t had cars in years. I don't know if either of them have a driver’s license either,” I said, trying to make her feel better. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Our conversation had been going so well I didn't want to derail that, so I carried on. “I want a reputation of being honest and fair.”

  “That’ll come with time.” She wandered over to the long wall where I’d suggested her cosmetic counter go. “What if we made an inviting space for customers? Maybe modern with a touch of femininity. And we need to make sure there are plenty of power outlets and USB ports for easy charging of electronic devices. Oh, and a tea and coffee station too.”

  “I like it.” I moved over to her and tried to see things through her eyes. “That should be the first project. The inviting customer space.”

  Baker grinned at me. “You could also talk to Mrs. Quinn to see if one of the girls at Paths has customer service experience. She could be your eventual office manager, part-time, but also be the first f
ace customers see.” How did she keep surprising me with her intelligence? Cleverness. “Although . . . shouldn’t we get the equipment you need to fix cars first?”

  “I suppose that would be the place to start.” I rubbed my chin as if considering.

  “Holt?”

  “Yeah, Easy?”

  Her eyes were wary when she looked at me. “Isn’t this going to be expensive?”

  “Yeah. But if we go in stages, it’s doable. We’ll do the garage and where the customers will see. The back office can wait. The apartment isn’t pressing at the moment. And the other space”—I met her gaze— “is up to you.”

  She didn’t say anything for a long time, simply taking in the garage.

  Had I made a mistake showing her my dream? Including her?

  “I—I don’t have the money to set up an operation here. It takes every spare cent just to get the materials I need.” She looked uncertain.

  Admiration filled me. She didn’t give herself enough credit for what she’d accomplished.

  “I’m not asking for any money from you,” I said. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

  “I can’t let you pay for this.” Her protest was almost feral. “I don’t want another handout.”

  I recoiled. “It’s not a handout.” I wasn’t entirely sure why I wanted to help her reach her dreams, whatever they may be, but I did. Even if it meant sacrificing something I needed for my own business.

  She released a long breath. “I don’t let myself think about this beyond making lip gloss in the living room.”

  Why? The question was on the tip of my tongue. It was the perfect time to find out more about the inner workings of the woman who intrigued me.

  “And for now, that will remain the same. You have your job at the magazine, and the makeup is your side project. Down the road, you might want to make that your main focus. Why don’t we keep options open?”

  “That makes sense.” She paused as if digesting my words. “One of the women from Paths, she’s an apprentice to an interior designer,” she said before I had a chance to open my mouth. “Oh, and Leesa’s working with an architect. Do we need an architect?”

  Her newfound enthusiasm was an abrupt change, but I’d take it. Maybe it meant she’d warm up to the idea of the building being ours.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “Maybe they’ll help us. I’ll go by there on the way home.”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious, but that wasn’t what filled me with that strange feeling which only happened around Baker. “That would be great. If they would help us.”

  She blushed, but lifted her chin. “There’s a lot of potential here.”

  I wasn’t so sure we were just talking about the garage. “I think so too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Baker

  “Are you going to tell them?”

  I slipped my hand into the crook of Holt’s arm after he locked the door to his new garage.

  He tensed, his expression wary when he glanced at me. “Normally, my family would be the first to know.” He stopped walking and turned to face me. “Is this crazy? Do you think it’ll work?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  He searched my eyes, and my heart beat in triple time. I clutched his arm and confidence filled him.

  “It’s going to be hard for a while. Especially without my steady salary. But this lady came into Ed’s the other day. A garage down the road tried to screw her and I just—I want somewhere people can come and be confident they’re getting what they pay for.” He covered my hand with his. “When I saw the building, it felt like my chance to do that.”

  I barely knew Holt, but his heart—he was a decent man. It would be nice to be part of something worthwhile, even if I didn’t deserve to be.

  We strolled along the sidewalk in no hurry. I took in the neighborhood, noticing Holt’s building was in the worst shape. An eyesore, if I was completely honest. But the place had good bones.

  I wanted the space upstairs with a vengeance. And I was still reeling from the fact he had me in mind when he bought it. We were nothing more than roommates, yet it seemed as if we were headed toward something bigger. A something neither of us had expected. I wasn’t sure either of us were truly ready for it.

  Once again, it seemed that choices about my life were being made for me. I’d vowed to never let it happen again. This was different than it had been with Kyle. Holt wasn’t trying to manipulate me into doing something I didn’t want.

  I flicked my eyes to an elderly man and woman on the opposite side of the street. Their position mirrored ours. How long have they been together? What have they survived? What would it take to make it that long?

  Trust.

  A whole lot of trust. Which was the one thing Holt and I would never have. Not when I couldn’t tell him the truth about who I was. When I couldn’t trust his motives, not because he wasn’t genuine, but because I’d always have a little kernel of suspicion in the back of my mind, especially when it came to men.

  I’d meant what I told him. Men manipulated. I was evidence of it. I’d never had a driver’s license, for God’s sake, because Kyle wouldn’t let me. If I couldn’t get over what was ingrained in my head—which I wouldn’t—then we weren’t going anywhere.

  “We had pizza last night. I didn’t think we’d be going to Dino’s.”

  I lifted a shoulder and lowered it. “I could eat pizza every day.”

  He grinned. “Me too.”

  “Is Marlow going to be here?”

  Holt held open the door to Dino’s, and I stepped inside.

  “Never know with my sister.”

  He took my hand and led me toward the same table we’d sat at when I’d come with Trish. Everyone was here, except Mrs. Quinn. The surprise guest was Patrick, who was seated next to Marlow. Her wine glass was already nearly empty.

  “Did you know Patrick was coming?”

  “Nope.”

  “Think he invited himself?”

  “If he thought it would rub Marlow the wrong way, definitely.”

  “I’ll take my whiskey hand delivered,” Patrick said to Andrew. Holt’s brother looked over his shoulder and made a face. “Roommates to lovebirds in less than six months.”

  “I’ll have it to you by the weekend.”

  Apparently they’d made a bet on what would happen between Holt and me. Would any of us ever grow up?

  “Why are you here?” Holt asked before first kissing Ella and then Trish on top of the head.

  “Considering Andrew and Trish are practically married and this is the Dixon family Sunday dinner, I’d say that explains itself.” Patrick pointed at Ella. “You know she can’t talk, right?”

  “I meant you.” Holt stuck out his tongue at him.

  “If I’m not family, I don’t know who is.”

  Andrew laughed and shook his head. “He invited himself.”

  Patrick clutched his heart. “All of you want me here.”

  “Especially my sister,” Holt said, squeezing Marlow’s shoulders. She flipped him off.

  “Could we limit obscene gestures to the confines of our homes?” Mr. Dixon stood. He bent and kissed my cheek. “Hello, love. Glad you could make it.”

  “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  I grinned at him, and a satisfied smile spread across his face.

  “Son.” He reached around me to shake Holt’s hand, so much meaning in just that one word.

  I looked back at Holt, who gave nothing away. “Dad.” He pulled him in for a hug. “I thought you might’ve invited Mrs. Quinn. Maybe patched things up.”

  Mr. Dixon scowled.

  “Don’t start,” Marlow said. “I already asked, and he won’t say a thing.”

  I had no idea what was going on, only that Mrs. Quinn and Mr. Dixon both seemed miserable now that they weren’t speaking. Her absence was notable, and I missed her in general. I’d promised Holt I’d go by the shelter to rally some help with
the garage, but I hoped to catch Mrs. Quinn too.

  I dropped into the empty seat next to Patrick, and Holt took the one beside me.

  “Sandwiched between two beautiful women. Life doesn’t get any better.” Patrick flashed me a disarming grin. One I found myself mirroring back. I tried to wipe it off my face, but couldn’t.

  “Hands to yourself,” Holt warned.

  He held his up in surrender. “I see she’s your woman.”

  “I am not his woman,” I blurted out, instantly wishing I could take it back.

  A flash of hurt crossed Holt’s face, but he quickly smoothed it over. “She’s her own woman.”

  Everyone around the table relaxed as if they’d braced themselves for a fight between us.

  “No. She’s yours. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.” Marlow took a healthy swig of wine and stared at both of us unapologetically.

  “How many glasses have you had? Cause you’re veering into territory that isn’t your business,” Holt said as if he barely had control of his temper.

  His sister snorted. “Please. There’s no such thing as privacy in this family.”

  “Then why don’t we talk about Jack?”

  “Holt.” Andrew gave him a look to shut his mouth.

  Marlow pushed up from the table, her chair scraping as she did. “You’re an asshole.”

  She stormed toward the bathroom.

  “Should I go check on her?” Trish asked.

  “No. I will.” Patrick bolted from the chair and followed the same path as Marlow.

  “You crossed a line,” Mr. Dixon said, leveling Holt with a look.

  “She keeps it all bottled in. Like if she doesn’t talk about it, nothing happened.” Holt straightened in his chair, his tone defensive.

  “That’s her choice.”

  “She’s my sister. I’m not gonna sit here and let her keep rotting from the inside out,” he said through his teeth. “That would make me an asshole.”

  “She’s still hurting. You know that.” Andrew took Trish’s hand as if he needed the support.