Roommating (Preston's Mill #1)

by Noelle Adams

  “Now she’s all grown up.”

  “And things were incredibly awkward in the beginning. She was holding a grudge for me leaving town and leaving her dad in a lurch, and then…I don’t know. It’s clear that we’re both attracted to each other but she’s, um, she’s not really…”

  “She needs a little convincing? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  This had to be the most awkward conversation ever, Chris thought. Guys weren’t supposed to talk about this shit, were they?

  “Heather thinks that I’m not capable of committing—no doubt she’s still holding that grudge because I left town. Not that one has anything to do with the other, but I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m some sort of flight risk.”

  “And are you?”

  Shaking his head, Chris said, “I hope not. I don’t think so anymore. Three years ago…hell, I don’t know. Leaving seemed like the thing to do. There was nothing really tying me here to the town—at least, I didn’t think so at the time. My mom was my anchor, and even though I was close with Tom, it wasn’t the same. I needed…I needed time to just get my head together. It was too hard being here without my mom.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Not exactly the most masculine thing to admit to.”

  “Your mom was a hell of a woman.” Jace began cautiously, “but I seem to remember you taking off a time or two when we were younger.”

  The memory of some of his teenage antics hit him hard and fast. “Yeah, I know. I never stayed away long.”

  “No, but you can see where it’s been a pattern. So again I ask, are you sure you’re staying?”

  “I’m here and I’m staying. And I’d like to stay with Heather. I just don’t know how to prove that to her.”

  Jace settled back against the seat and studied him for a minute. “Is she the romantic sort? You know, flowers and candlelight…that kind of crap?”

  That had Chris laughing because it was obvious Jace was no better at this stuff than he was. “I have no idea.”

  “I hate to say it, dude, but you’re gonna have to do a little bit of fishing and figure out what her love language is.”

  “Love language? Did you seriously just say that?”

  Jace laughed and looked away. “Trust me. I did.”

  “You better explain where the hell that came from.”

  “I saw the book over at Isabella’s and decided to check it out.”

  “Isabella, huh?” Chris asked. “You guys were always tight, even when she used to date Brock back in high school.”

  Jace just nodded.

  “And so you read this book?”

  Another nod.

  “By any chance, did your reading it have to do with Isabella?”

  “Don’t ask. Let’s just say I’ve read about it, and it just means you have to figure out what it is that she likes. Is it gifts? Words? Acts?”

  “So there’s no quick fix to this?”

  “Sorry.”

  Yeah…so was Chris.

  He had to figure out Heather’s love language. Just great. This might take forever.

  ***

  After that one beer, Chris decided there was no time like the present to get started. He knew Heather really well and for a long time, but he realized there was a whole lot more that he didn’t know about her. But he figured that starting out with the basics couldn’t hurt. He texted her and said he was picking up some takeout and asked if she wanted any. When she readily accepted, he took it as a good sign.

  Pizza was what he’d been in the mood for, but he figured Chinese would be a little more dignified, and they’d be able to sit at the table and eat together. With the bag of takeout, a small bouquet of wildflowers and a bottle of wine, he was fairly confident that it would look nice without looking like he was trying so hard.

  He was striding down the hall and was feeling good when…

  “Christopher!”

  Dammit. For an old woman, Estelle had bionic hearing.

  “Hey, Estelle! No time to talk. Dinner’s getting cold!” He held up the bag and tried to keep walking.

  “But…but…”

  “Have a good night!” he called over his shoulder and quickly opened the door to his apartment and shut it behind him.

  “Estelle get you too?” Heather said with a soft laugh. God, she looked beautiful. Her hair was loose, and she was wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a pink tank top. She looked relaxed and just…

  Crap, he had it bad.

  Lucy danced around his feet, and he had to be careful to avoid stepping on her as he made his way across the room. When he reached the kitchen table, he put everything down and reached down to pet her. “Hey, pretty girl.” That seemed to please her, and she quickly pranced away to get some water.

  “What’s all this?” Heather asked, stepping closer. “What’s with the wine and flowers?”

  “I was in the mood for a little wine with dinner and the flowers just seemed…I don’t know,” he shrugged and handed them to her. “They reminded me of you, and I thought you should have them.”

  Her eyes went wide for a second before she took the flowers and smiled. “I…wow. Thank you.” The final word was a breathy sigh as she leaned in and smelled the flowers. “They’re beautiful.”

  Unable to help himself, he reached out and caressed her cheek. “So are you.” His voice was gruff as he said it.

  “Chris.”

  He knew she was going to try and tell him that he was wrong or remind him of their conversation from that morning, but he wasn’t going to let her. So he quickly diverted her attention. “So I picked up the Chinese food. I grabbed extra dumplings because I remember you saying how much you liked them.”

  Heather was only mildly flustered by the fast change of subject, and soon they began working together to put the food out. When they sat down, Chris told her about running into Jace and about the property.

  “I know my father would love to have his name on that renovation,” she said. “He’s been eyeing that property for years.”

  “Jace was pretty tight-lipped about where we stand, but I’m hopeful.”

  Lucy was back around his ankles. He reached down to pet her and then rose to go and get her something to eat.

  “Oh, wait,” Heather said as she went to get up. “I’ll do that.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” he said easily. “Sit and eat. This will only take a second.” Then he went about getting Lucy’s food and putting fresh water in her bowl. He pet the dog one more time before sitting back down. Heather was looking at him with an odd expression. “What?”

  “It’s just…I mean…you didn’t have to do that. She’s my dog and I don’t expect you to—”

  “Like I said, it’s not a big deal.” He smiled at her and was greatly relieved when she smiled back. The rest of the meal passed with great conversation that was largely centered on the business. He loved getting her ideas and found that she had more than just a general working knowledge of what went into the kinds of renovations they did. He had a feeling that if given the chance, Heather probably wouldn’t mind getting her hands a little dirty on a job.

  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 t
hey 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.