And he was here to destroy it.
Guilt tried to gnaw away at his gut, but he pushed it aside. He didn’t want to destroy his grandmother’s shop. All he wanted to do was help her sell so she could retire and, if he had his wish, come live by him. But he knew she didn’t see it that way. He’d just have to convince her of his logic while at the same time ignoring her wild fantasies of him staying in the city, running the shop, and falling in love with his messy, flighty roommate.
A snort of laughter escaped him as he grabbed a spool of white ribbon. A more outlandish idea he couldn’t even imagine. Sure, Mo was beautiful and seemed nice enough, but the woman was the exact antithesis to everything August was. He couldn’t imagine she’d want to start anything romantic with him, either. He’d probably bore her to death.
At least then she might sit still for two seconds.
After finishing things up at the shop, he headed back to his new temporary apartment with a mission. The pod with his stuff was coming tomorrow, and he needed to make sure the place was clean before he started unpacking his things.
After searching through every cabinet he could see, August finally caved. This place needed a cleaning. No, scratch that, he desperately needed to clean this place. Deep clean. Preferably with a hazmat suit, but he’d go with a bottle of bleach if he could just find one.
“Moira, where are the cleaning supplies?”
His new roommate glanced up from the couch where she was watching some superhero movie, and oh god, was she eating cereal straight from the box? There were perfectly good bowls thirty feet away in the kitchen. And how had that crap not given her a million cavities yet? It was pure sugar and starch.
“Cleaning supplies?” Her nose wrinkled, head tilting as if she never heard the words before.
He believed it.
“Yeah, disinfectant, window cleaning, bleach…soap?”
Her brows rose, climbing up her forehead as she stared at him. “Soap?”
She could not be serious.
“Come on, August.” She plopped the cereal box on the coffee table, laughter spilling out of her lips. “I’m just messing with you. Of course I have cleaning supplies…somewhere.”
Her smile did nothing to reassure him. Though it was a beautiful smile, lit up her whole face. Not that he was paying attention to that. He had cleaning to do. Not muse about his roommate’s luminous smile and how it made his lips twitch with the urge to follow suit.
“Let’s see.” She stood, brushing crumbs off her shirt.
August tried not to groan as the flakes of dusty cereal particles fell to the floor. Vacuuming was already on the list anyway.
“I think Lilly left me some stuff in the hall closet.”
He followed her down the hallway, knowing he’d already checked that closet but hoping against hope he’d missed the holy grail of sanitation materials. At this point, he’d settle for a wet wipe and some hand sanitizer.
“Okay,” Mo said as she opened the closet door. “I think they’re here…somewhere.”
She lifted up on her toes to scan the top shelf. August shook his head. The woman was so short, she’d need a stepladder to see the top shelf. Even he had to lift up to see. Which he’d done earlier. No cleaning supplies.
“I can’t find any up there.”
“Can you even see that high?”
Mo glanced at him over her shoulder. “Why, August Porter, did you just make a joke?”
He shrugged. “It’s been known to happen.”
She turned to face him, playfully punching his shoulder with her tiny fist. The spot where her skin connected with his burned, like being shocked with a livewire. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from rubbing his arm. How did this woman have such a weird effect on him? What was this?
Nothing he wanted to admit to, that was for sure.
“Look at you being secretly funny.”
She turned, unaware of the inner turmoil her slight touch had caused within him. She crept down, ass in the air as she dug through the coats, hats, scarves, and other piles of crap on the closet floor. He’d shifted that stuff around with his foot but hadn’t dug in like Mo was doing, for fear he might come across something weeks old and covered in mold.
Her heart-shaped butt wiggled as she dug around. August averted his eyes, staring at the light in the closet, wishing the bright bulb would burn the image of that sweet, luscious posterior out of his brain. His roommate had a great ass. Something he should never, ever think about.
“Aha!”
Mo popped out of the pile of junk. An old sock was stuck to the top of her head, the sight so ridiculous he felt his lip twitch. She held up a small bucket filled with a few spray bottles and a pathetic-looking duster that was missing half its feathers.
“The broom and mop are down there, too.” She stood, glancing at the pile with a slight frown. “Must have fallen at some point and gotten buried.”
“Vacuum?” he asked, because he could not deal with the fact that she hadn’t swept or mopped in so long that she hadn’t noticed the missing cleaning supplies until now.
“Ooooh.” She winced. “I might have, kind of, broken the one Lilly left. To be fair, it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t realize you couldn’t vacuum up glass and—”
“Why did you need to clean up glass?” His jaw dropped in horror at the thought.
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
She was probably right. “How do you live like this?”
She laughed, pushing the bucket of cleaning supplies into his hands and heading toward the living room. “I grew up with four brothers. If you think this place is messy, you should have seen my house growing up.”
He shuddered at the thought.
“But don’t worry about the vacuum. The building has one residents can borrow in the clubhouse. I’ll go check it out and help you clean up.”
He very much doubted her assistance cleaning would be of any help, but he did appreciate the retrieval of the vacuum. She might be an utter mess, but she was a hot mess, and he couldn’t deny Mo was kind and had a wicked sense of humor. Despite his reluctance to this situation, he found himself drawn to the woman. There was just something so infectious about her. Just as infectious as the grime he intended to clean off every surface of this apartment.
Too bad he couldn’t do the same with these weird lustful urges his roommate inspired in him.
Chapter Five
August stepped into the apartment and wiped a hand over his sweaty brow. His current roommate situation might be a nightmare, but at least the building’s amenities were top notch. The small gym on the first floor had everything he needed to work out his frustration with his new living arrangement. Too bad the high from exercise only lasted so long. Once he’d showered and changed, he headed into the kitchen to make a protein shake—he really needed to hit up a store today for groceries.
He scooped out the powder into the special cup and filled it with water, vigorously shaking the container to mix the contents. As he flipped the top and lifted it to his lips, the sound of singing hit his ears. Cup poised halfway in the air, he strained to hear over the pounding water. Mo must be in the shower. An image of her soaping up her naked body filled his mind, water plastering the ridiculously colored hair to her back, suds running over her breasts. His body tightened.
“Dammit!”
Shaking his head, he slammed back half his shake, willing the unwanted mental picture to go away. He did not need to be lusting after Mo. There were so many reasons that was a bad idea. Besides, he didn’t do relationships. What was the point when everyone eventually moved on? He wasn’t the type of person people stayed with forever; his parents had proven that. Whatever. Fine with him. He didn’t need anyone. All he needed was space and solitude.
The singing got louder until he managed to make out the tune.
&n
bsp; “Is that…‘Jingle Bells’?”
It was September. Who sang Christmas carols in September? And here he’d been thinking this situation couldn’t get any worse. He should have known. Things could always get worse.
August finished off his shake, washing and drying his cup before putting it back in the cabinet.
“Hey, you’re up.”
He turned at the unbelievably chipper voice and sucked in a sharp breath. Mo bounced—yes, bounced—into the room. She wore a long blue skirt that swished around her legs with her energetic movement. Her bright yellow halter top hurt his eyes to look at but left a lot of soft-looking skin on display. Her damp hair twisted up in some sort of intricate knot on top of her head. Her cheeks had honest to god sparkles on them, and her lips and eyelids were highlighted with a warm rose color.
He was going to blame the rise in his body temperature on his recent workout and not the vision his new roommate presented.
“I’ve been up for the past hour and a half. Went down to the gym.”
Mo’s eyes widened with shock. “We have a gym? Huh. Learn something new every day.”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but grin a little. There was something uniquely charming about Mo. Even if they were as different as night and day, he had to admit she charmed him. A little.
Didn’t matter, he had things to do today before checking on Gran at the shop.
“Where’s the nearest grocery store? I need to stock up.”
“Ooooh, me, too. We can go together.”
Great. Just what he wanted. Maybe they could also find a pothole big enough to break the suspension on his car. Fun day all around.
Ten minutes later, they were in Mo’s car—because according to her, she knew her way around town better—and August was praying to every deity in the known universe to survive the trip.
“You know there’s a brake pedal to your left? Some people use it before they’re five inches away from the car in front of them.”
She laughed, ignoring his advice and slamming on the brakes just in time to avoid crashing into the truck stopped in front of them at the red light.
“Lighten up, August.”
Hard to lighten up when you were staring death in the face. How had the woman gotten her license driving like this? Though, judging by the cars around them, everyone in Denver was a terrible driver. Yet another reason to get out of the city. Life expectancy went up when everyone wasn’t driving like they were in Mad Max.
They parked at the grocery store and headed inside. August grabbed a cart and pulled out his phone to bring up his grocery list app. Mo grabbed a basket and started to toss things in at random.
“Don’t you have a list?”
She shrugged, grabbed a box of granola bars, and dropped it in her basket. They were so covered in chocolate they should have been in the candy aisle.
“Not really. I kinda just grab what I’m in the mood for.”
Under “chaos” in the dictionary was a picture of Mo. He was sure of it.
Half an hour later, they had made it through the entire store. Mo’s basket was overflowing, and his cart was sorely lacking. Unfortunately, the selection of fresh fruits and vegetables in this store left something to be desired. Meanwhile, Mo had all manner of processed crap that companies tried to pass off as food.
He’d read a lot about whole food eating because he liked the idea of living off the land. Not saying he wanted to go 100 percent off-grid, but the notion of relying on no one but himself held some appeal. Hell, he did it enough as a kid, being shuffled back and forth between his parents’ homes, keeping all his belongings in a backpack and duffle so he wouldn’t miss a homework assignment or gym class clothes.
He’d learned early on not to rely on anyone but himself. That way when people let him down, it didn’t matter as much.
“Here,” he said after hearing Mo grunt for the fifth time trying to heave the basket around. He grabbed the handles from her and placed it in his cart.
“My hero.”
She gave a dramatic sigh, batting her eyelashes at him. August rolled his eyes at her antics, but he was smiling as he wheeled the cart to a check-out line.
“You don’t have much in there.”
Now it was his turn to sigh. “The whole food selection is lacking here. I need to find another store. Preferably one with organic options.”
She snapped her fingers. Face bright with excitement. Uh oh. That couldn’t be good for him.
“I got it! The farmers market is still going on. We can head there next.”
“Denver has a farmers market?” Kind of an odd thing in the middle of the city.
“Oh, August.” She laughed, patting him on the chest. “Poor country boy. Yes, we have a farmers market. In fact, we have about half a dozen. I told you the city has everything anyone could possibly need. Now let’s pay for these things and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll make a city man out of you yet.”
He highly doubted it, but if there was fresh produce, he was game to give it a try.
…
Mo smiled as she watched August move around the tables and stands picking up various fruits and vegetables to inspect them, squeeze them, sometimes even sniff them. Weird. She didn’t think people outside of movies did stuff like that. Still, she had to pat herself on the back for this genius idea. The farmers market had been the perfect place to take August. All the healthy, organic, tasteless food his bland taste buds could ever want.
Most people wouldn’t care this much about making a roommate feel at home, but to Mo, it was important. First off because she needed August to stay and help her out with the rent. That was the most important. But also because she hated seeing people unhappy. Life was too short to spend it in misery. Mo took it upon herself to make sure everyone was having a good time, at all times. And if anyone needed a good cheering up, it was August Porter.
“So, what do you think?” she asked as he handed some cash to the man behind the table who gave him a bag of—gag—zucchini. Why did the man need four zucchinis? No one needed that much green food.
“Good selection. Prices are a little high.”
She barely held back a groan. Could nothing satisfy this man?
They started to walk again when Mo almost tripped over a large golden retriever. Her arms went spinning, trying to find her balance again, but it was no use. She was going down. Except she didn’t. Two big, strong arms caught her, saving her from cracking her head on the hard pavement. She glanced up, staring into a pair of beautiful hazel eyes and a firm, turned-down mouth.
“Are you okay?” August asked with concern.
Heck yeah, she was! She was currently being held by a very sexy redhead. Who wouldn’t be okay with that?
“You just keep coming to my rescue today. You’re like my very own knight in…” She glanced down at his tight black t-shirt and dark, worn blue jeans. “Rough denim.”
Feeling exceptionally playful, she moved up on her toes to place a grateful kiss on his cheek.
Mistake!
The brief contact of her skin pressed against his sent a bolt of sexual awareness through her. The hands on her hips tightened, pulling her slightly closer, his thumbs stroking the small strip of skin left bare between her shirt and skirt. Heat blazed in August’s eyes for just a moment before he blinked it away, releasing her and stepping back.
Hmm, that was interesting.
A friendly bark drew Mo’s attention down to a happy-faced pup with a pink tongue hanging out the side of its mouth. She reached down to pet the animal.
“Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest little puppers there ever was? Yes, you are, yes, you are. Who’s a sweet doggo? You are.”
The dog whined, tilting its head and staring past her to August.
“Just go with it, man,” August replied. “She’s weird, but it kind of grows
on you.”
Whipping her head around so fast she nearly cracked her neck, she glared. “Hey!”
The corner of his mouth ticked up in an almost grin. He reached down to pet the dog on the top of its head. Silly mutt preened like the sun itself was touching it. Having felt those big, warm hands on her body very recently, she knew the dog wasn’t that far off.
“You gotta watch where you’re running, boy.”
“How do you know it’s a boy?”
August nodded with his chin. “Collar says Rudy.”
Well, would you look at that? The collar was indeed stitched with large letters spelling out “Rudy.” How had she missed that? Must have been the adorable, distracting doggy face.
August knelt down beside her to give Rudy more loves. The shameless pup abandoned her lovin’ to practically crawl into August’s lap, licking his face in encouragement.
“I think someone has a fan.”
“He’s a good dog. Aren’t you, boy? All dogs are good.”
“You like dogs?”
He nodded. “Dogs are great. Better than people. They’re always up for a walk, easy to get along with, and they don’t leave their dishes in the sink long enough to gather mold.”
She ignored the last barb. “Did you have a dog growing up?”
The contentment on his face died. Relaxed expression disappearing as his jaw tightened.
“No.”
One word. The end. No explanation. She’d obviously hit some kind of sore spot. She wanted to ask more, but right at that moment, an older woman hurried over to them.
“I’m so sorry.” She huffed out the words, reaching down to latch a leash onto the dog’s collar. “Rudy jumped out of the car before I could get his leash on. He just loves the market.”
“Not a problem; he’s a sweetheart.” She smiled at the woman.
“Have a good one, Rudy,” August said to the dog, standing and tipping his head to the woman.
The Roommate Problem Page 4