I tucked my knees into my chest and stared at him. "I guess it depends on the lens you look at life through. Do you see opportunities or obstacles? And you’re not homeless right now. Stop being a Negative Nancy."
A slight smile graced his lips before he sat quietly for a moment. Finally, he turned his head to stare at me. "If we’re going to be married, we’re going to need some simple rules then."
I tucked my chin behind my knees so he couldn't see my smile. Somehow I wasn’t surprised he’d have rules for a situation like this. "What rules would those be?"
He flopped his head back against the chair and spoke with his eyes closed. "We pay rent."
"What? Are you insane? The owner’s not going to mind." I was not paying my dad rent to live in this house.
Bane frowned at me. "We're not thieves. We are going to pay rent for the time that we live in this house."
It was incredibly annoying and refreshing to stumble across an honorable man. How dare he be so decent? He was going to make me feel guilty even though it wasn't wrong to stay here. Maybe I should tell him...but then he might start treating me differently. I'd rather we start out on an even playing field: knowing nothing about each other.
"By the way, what were their names?"
I coughed loudly, trying my best to cough up a lung, then completely ignored his question. "What’s the next rule?"
"We don’t make a big fuss. We be as forgettable as possible." He drawled slowly.
"That’s okay with me," I agreed.
"Now, another rule..." His voice trailed off.
Silence filled the room as I waited for him to speak.
He never did. He'd fallen asleep.
I folded my glasses and slipped them into their case, then walked over to unfold the leg rest from the recliner for him. When he slept, his face softened, and he lost the pensive look that seemed to be perpetually resting on his face.
I carefully unlaced his shoes and slipped them off of his feet. He grunted but remained asleep. Grabbing the throw blanket, I laid it over top of him. He finally had access to a soft bed, and he was most likely going to spend the night in the recliner.
He would feel less dismal about our situation in a couple of days. And he could start seeing the same opportunities I saw.
My alarm rang at six-thirty. When I sat up, I looked around, trying to remember where I was. One thing was for sure, I was no longer in the run-down, trashy apartment that smelled like mold and was trying to give me cancer.
Instead, I was lying in a soft bed surrounded by eight pillows. Whoever Dad had hired to decorate and furnish his house had done an excellent job. It was tasteful, homey, and welcoming. It felt good to be in the house. Usually, I looked forward to going to work, but the bed was so comfortable I never wanted to leave it.
A clinking from outside my room finally had me shuffling my feet out the door. I stumbled my way into the kitchen where I groped around, searching for the glass cupboard. Finally finding it, I pulled a glass down, filled it with water, and drank it as fast as I could. A little dribbled down my chin thanks to my early morning lack of coordination. I used the hem of my giant t-shirt to dry my face off.
Brushing my wild hair from my face, I turned around to find Bane leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand, looking amused at my expense. His jacket and tie were missing. The top four buttons of his shirt were undone. Despite his relaxed appearance, his eyes were bright and he looked as though he were ready to take on the day.
"Not a morning person?" he asked.
I grunted and made my way over to the coffeepot. I pulled a mug from the hooks on the wall. I swiped a finger in it to check for dust. Everything in the house had been cleaned. Heather—the woman who had been hired to maintain the home—was exceptionally thorough in her cleaning. I was going to have to text her and tell her to stop coming by.
I’d lived in Riverly during my middle school and high school years. Growing up here meant there were a few people I’d known my whole life here. Heather ran a cleaning business in town and worked closely with my father. She routinely cleaned his rentals and homes he was flipping. I also knew she would come check on the house a couple times a month to make sure everything was in order.
Heather could also ruin my secret if she let it slip to Bane who I was.
I poured a cup of coffee then sat down at the bar next to Bane. I pushed the cup away and laid my face against the cool, smooth granite countertop.
"We didn't finish talking about our roommate rules."
"Not my fault," I mumbled. I couldn’t help but think that my whole goal in finding a place was to avoid having a roommate—at least one that wouldn’t kill me. Even though I didn’t know Bane well, I did feel safe around him. We were different, but he was still safe to me.
"True. I'm sorry I fell asleep. But we need to talk about the rules." He looked too serious for that early in the morning. The first conversation of the day shouldn’t be about a set of rules.
I cleared my throat. "First rule of roommate rules, we don't call them that. We're supposed to be married, right?"
He shifted, and the barstool creaked from beneath him.
"And married people don't have ridiculous rules like that. I think we should just wing it."
"Says the woman drooling on the countertop."
I swiped at my face but found nothing. "That wasn't very nice."
He shifted again, taking a drink from his cup then setting it back down. "The HOA in this neighborhood is intense."
"I didn't know a homeowner's association could be intense. Is that even possible? Can you use intense to describe a HOA?"
"Yes, it's possible." He nodded as he slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled a pamphlet out and pushed it in front of my face.
Willow Loop Homeowners Association Manual.
"Wow. That's a big title to read this early in the morning. Please don't make me read any more."
He scowled at me but began flipping through it, reading the rules. "Noise must be limited between the hours of eight p.m. and seven a.m."
"The only sound they'll hear from me before seven a.m. is a lot of groaning. Maybe some tears that I'm up that early."
Bane chuckled and patted the top of my messy head. "I didn't know I was getting such a cheery roommate when we got married."
I bit my lip at his reminder that we were supposed to be married. I mean, would people even believe it? They would know immediately by looking at us that I had married up. Would they assume I had a great personality to make up for the deficit?
Would we make a good couple? Or were we going to be that annoying couple that always nagged at each other? Good grief, I hoped not. There was nothing worse than being around a couple that loved to tear each other down.
I sat up abruptly, stopping my thoughts.
It was fake. Fake. Faker. Faking.
Nothing about this was real. We weren't married. We were barely roommates for that matter. We were barely acquaintances, although it did feel as though I had known him a long time.
"What's rule two?" These rules were getting interesting all of a sudden. Anything to distract me from wanting to be in a real relationship with him. I'd already thought through what could happen in a relationship between us, and it didn’t end well in my mind.
Bane studied me with a guarded expression on his face. "We're only allowed to drag the garbage can out an hour before pickup. Pickup is at eight on Wednesdays."
"Hopefully in the morning or that garbage truck is going to be breaking their noise ordinance," I mumbled against my coffee mug.
"Ho, ho, she's got her sense of humor back. Here, read these." He passed me a paper. "It’s the highlight reel. There’s about four thousand more in the book."
Homeowners Association Rules for Willow Loop:
No on-street parking.
Quiet hours between 9pm and 7am.
No roses in the front yard.
Only two cars parked in a driveway at a time.
No plants except from the suggested list.
Curtains on the street side of the home must be white or eggshell.
Holiday decorations must be removed within twenty-four hours of said holiday.
No trick or treating.
"Listen, I got a text that a small mother-in-law apartment might be up for rent. The owner wants to rent it out before his sister-in-law has a chance to move in. If I get it, we'll move there and pretend like this never happened." He leaned an elbow on the counter and looked at me, awaiting my response. It wasn't hard for him to pull my attention away from the ridiculous HOA rules.
I leaned toward him a fraction of an inch. Maybe a fraction of a foot. "Hold on, Bartholomew. We're pretending to be married to make this work. That doesn't mean whither thou goest, I will go."
He shrugged and kept a straight face. "All right. I just wanted to offer you a housing option that wouldn't end up with you stuck in a lie. Besides, you haven’t murdered me yet, so I thought we might get along as roommates if you needed a place."
Funny how we’d had the same concerns about our future roommates. I cleared my throat and took a sip of coffee. "Oh, well, thank you. That’s nice of you. Sorry. I can be a little testy in the mornings."
"You don't say," Bane drawled.
I leaned over and read more from the list of HOA rules. "Okay, these aren't too bad. Just basic things. No loud noises. No overnight guests without a permit? Wait, what? How is that possible? What if your grandma decides to stop by?"
He rapped his knuckles against the countertop. "My grandma doesn't like to travel, so that's probably not very likely..."
"I was joking—" I stopped when I saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.
"My, my, aren’t you a funny one in the mornings? You know what I meant though."
Bane leaned forward and rested his elbows on the counter. "Back to the real issue here, we’re pretending to be married. Carol’s probably told everyone by now. But I didn’t say anything about you last night at the HOA meeting, because I didn’t want to draw any attention. Hopefully, we won’t make a lasting impression on anyone. I hope we rarely have to talk to any of our neighbors."
"Ah, I see. Fake it 'til you make it. Brilliant." I slapped a palm onto the counter.
"I never thought I'd be a squatter," he muttered.
"A what-ter?" I asked.
"Did you know that squatting is a thing in Oregon?" Bane asked. "I was only vaguely familiar with the squatting laws before. I've never had to deal with a squatting situation before. But last night I spent some time researching it. To sum it up, if we are adding value to a property and maintaining the property value, it isn't necessarily illegal to squat on a property. The only person who has the power to evict a squatter is the owner of the property. If a squatter continues keeping up the house and paying the bills in their name, they can contest the rightful homeownership."
"Is this a common practice? It seems so simple. Why don't more people do it?"
Bane grimaced. "There's a whole community of squatters. There are websites and blogs devoted to the art of squatting and learning the line between legal and illegal. If you can create a doubt in your neighbors' mind about the rightful owner, you're more likely to avoid any legal action."
"Oh, how exciting! We can be squatters."
"No, we are not squatters. We are going to pay your friends rent until we find a place to live. I should have just rented that apartment in Burnside," he growled.
"Yes, but I don't want to drive that far. Besides, you seem to be doing house showings mainly in Riverly, and your office is here, so it doesn't make sense for you to live in Burnside. We’re perfectly fine living here. We’re a happily married young couple learning a new set of HOA rules."
Bane sighed. "Talking about this is giving me a headache, and I haven't even made it to the office yet."
"Maybe you should take care of that headache." I jumped up and rummaged around in my purse that sat on the counter until I found what I was looking for. I passed him the bottle of generic pain relievers. "This'll help."
"Thanks," he said, but he left the bottle closed next to him.
"They’re not going to help you just sitting there," I commented helpfully.
"Thank you, but I don’t like taking pills," he explained.
"Gag reflex?"
He raised his eyebrows.
"Hard pill to swallow?"
"Are you always this obnoxious?"
I smiled guiltily. "But really, why don’t you take pills?"
"I like to save pills for when I really need them."
"Having a headache counts as really needing them, did you know that?"
He shrugged. "I’ll be fine; it’s just a tension headache."
I let it go, promising myself that I’d find some naturopathic remedies for his headaches.
"Okay, if we're going to make this work, we have to know a few basic things about each other. Things every married couple would know."
Bane leaned back against the barstool. "Such as?"
"Which side of the bed do you sleep on?"
He scowled. "I don't see how anyone is going to care which side of the bed we sleep on."
"Humor me."
"Fine. I like the right side."
"Hmm, that's interesting."
"This has nothing to do with anything, does it?"
I smiled. "Nope. I just thought it might be a nice icebreaker. Or hopefully, a conversation ender. Because I need to go get dressed and do my makeup." I grabbed the mug off the counter and headed out of the kitchen.
"Hey! We need to talk about this!" He called after me.
"We sure do, Bertram. Maybe we can chat over breakfast another time!" I hollered as I walked down the hall to the bathroom close to my room.
The heated floors in the bathroom felt good on my cold feet. I hadn't found my fuzzy socks in the stuff I'd packed into my car. I only hoped I hadn't left them behind. I thought I'd only left the unimportant things in the apartment, but there might have been some key items that were missing.
Like my makeup bag.
How did I forget that? I'd probably left it in that dingy bathroom in the middle of my rushed packing. I was going to have to go to the store incognito. Maybe I could borrow one of Bane's suits. I looked remarkably like my brother without makeup on.
Just because I had brown hair, didn't mean my eyelashes had the decency to be visible. Looking at myself in the mirror, I studied my features, trying to be objective. I wondered what Bane thought when he saw me.
My bright green eyes popped against my lightly freckled skin. My messy bun hair was running amok. My under eyes and lips were a little puffy from still waking up. And wearing the giant sweatshirt and shorts, I looked about twelve years old.
So, yeah, he probably did see me as a platonic roommate. Dang it.
I'd made the entire speech about not being interested in him as an attempt to convince myself that I needed to not be interested in him. I couldn't be.
Bartholomew Fox was too invested in his image.
Those fancy suits.
That big SUV.
His handsome face.
Okay, well he couldn't change the last one, but he did always smell nice. If he were like most men, I would have caught a gross whiff of body odor at some point. But no, each of our encounters involved a delicious smell emanating from him. Maybe he had a condition where his sweat smelled like Old Spice.
I jerked the hood of my sweatshirt over my head. I grabbed a change of clothes for after my emergency makeup stop. I'd have to go straight to work after I bought some makeup. The DHS office opened at eight. All the other businesses in town didn’t open until nine. It always frustrated me to think about all the other people who had a relaxing morning before they headed to their little businesses in downtown Riverly.
"Bane! I need to pull out. Are you parked behind the garage?" I called as I tied the sweatshirt strings tightly under my chin. Gra
bbing my purse from the kitchen counter, I heaved it onto my shoulder.
"Yeah, but I'm thinking about not moving until we agree on roommate rules," he said as I walked into the kitchen.
"I agree to be the best roommate you’ve ever had."
Bane furrowed his brow. "I’ve never had a roommate before."
"Oh thank goodness, it’ll be an easy standard to uphold. Now, I have to go buy some makeup, and get to the office on time. I've only had one cup of coffee, and I wrapped you up in a blanket last night. I'm pretty sure I should have a free pass to skip the rule talk this morning."
Bane's eyebrows looked like they were in the middle of his forehead. "Okay. I understand, I just thought—"
"You realize I'm one second away from losing my mind, right?"
"Right. But we're having this discussion tonight."
"Righto, sarge."
He grumbled under his breath as he disappeared out the sliding door. I walked into the garage and opened the big door before starting my car.
I pulled out while Bane sat in his SUV on the side of the street waiting for me to clear the driveway. I passed a small white truck that had "Willow Loop Security" printed on it.
The fabled security guard was out making his rounds. Where was he the nights that Bane slept in the backyard? He wasn't a very good security guard if he couldn't spot Mr. Yummy sleeping in a hammock in the backyard.
Shirtless.
Where was my mind wandering? Not shirtless! He had to be wearing a million layers. Probably looked like an arctic explorer staying out there.
This was bad news. I didn't think I could keep Bane Fox in the platonic zone for long.
But I knew that the only thing that waited for me at the end of that zone was heartbreak.
CHAPTER TEN
Homeowners Association Rule #9:
Residents must notify the HOA president of any repair service appointments. (Electric, sewer, painters, etc.)
Laundry rooms should be in a garage. Or in the attic. They should be in a neutral zone in the house.
Not in the master suite bathroom.
Mr H.O.A Page 7