Bracing myself on the back of the mannequin, I leaned in closer, as if that would help me hear from hundreds of feet away with a glass wall between us.
“What are we looking at?”
Jumping sky high and falling forward, I screamed at the unexpected whisper behind me, landing me and the mannequin in a compromising position—hands to boobs, chin to cleavage.
The loud, obnoxious laugh above me was none other than Wes Monroe’s. Using the stiff mounds of hard plastic boobs, I pushed myself to my feet.
Thanks for the help, dick wad.
“For the love of God. What is wrong with you?” I straightened my clothes, regaining my composure. What little I had left.
“Come on now, roomie. You have to admit that shit was funny. I don’t care who you are.”
Pulling the mannequin back to its feet with the help of Wes—because yeah, he was decent enough to help her up but not me—I glared at him. “Where did you even come from?”
“Back door.”
“Well in the future, give me some warning before approaching me from behind.”
“So many interesting things I’m learning about you, city. Never took you for a back-door kind of girl. Can’t wait to find out what other little tidbits you’ll share with me, roomie.”
“Not just hell no, but fuck no. I don’t do that shit. And why do you keep calling me roomie? We are not and will never be roomies.” I finished straightening the mannequin’s ensemble before marching back to the counter to finally eat my lunch.
“Damn. There went that fantasy,” he said with a shrug. “And, hate to break it to you, but as of today, we are officially roommates. At least for the next few weeks.”
“You’re delusional, Monroe.”
“You know that issue you had with not having any hot water this morning?”
I nodded, eating a couple of fries. “Yeah. You said you’d fix it,” I mumbled through the food in my mouth. Taking a big bite of the burger, I held back a moan. One thing was for sure, Kathy’s Café made a damn good burger and fries. I wasn’t going to think about how much grease and how many calories were in each bite. I’d earned this little bit of overindulgence.
“Yeah, well, I can fix it, but it’ll be a few weeks. The water heater is out, and it’ll be awhile before the replacement comes in.”
I paused mid-chew, making sure I heard him right. Swallowing the food, I shook my head. “Okay. Fine. I’ll move into the other spare house. You guys have three, right?”
“Yep. But the other one is in the process of being remodeled for our new ranch hand to move into. Tucker hasn’t had a chance to finish it, between his regular work and the wedding. Which means, the two of us will be shacking up for the rest of your stay here. Unless, of course, you changed your mind about staying at Lottie and Tucker’s place, Miss Spew Magoo.”
Leaning against the counter, Wes reached for one of my fries, popping it into his mouth with an annoying smirk on his face as he watched me try to choose the lesser of two evils. I really wished I hadn’t told him about what happened in that house.
“I hate you.”
“You’ll grow to love me. Especially after all this quality time we’ll be spending together.” He winked, reaching for another fry.
I slapped his hand before he could snatch it. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Too late,” he smiled, straightening to his full height. “See you at home, roomie… Oh”—he took a few backward steps toward the rear exit—“and don’t worry, I left your luggage for you to move on your own. I know how you hate any kind of gentlemanly gesture.”
Scooping a handful of what was left of my fries, I launched them at him as he took off jogging and laughing down the hall. I seriously hated that man. And now, realizing I’d have to pick up all those damn fries from the floor, I hated myself for letting him get to me. I was making some seriously questionable decisions as of late.
Wheeling my luggage through the gravelly dirt, I wondered why anyone would choose to live in the country—the land of no sidewalks or pavement of any kind. Tucker aside, I was beginning to understand why Lottie high-tailed it out of here as soon as she could.
Wes sat on the front porch of his house, feet up, beer in hand, casual and content as he watched me struggle.
“You know, city, I’m happy to help. All you gotta do is ask.”
“Were you dropped on your head as a child?” I asked through my heavy breathing, sweat dripping down my back and forehead, my blouse sticking to my body. I reminded myself of the need for a nice long shower after the day I’d had, which was the only reason I was putting myself through this hell. Freaking water heaters.
Lowering his feet to the porch floor, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he thought that one through. “Very possibly. Definitely smacked on the head quite a few times by Grams. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her, but that woman has an arm.”
“That explains a lot.” I stopped at the bottom step, taking a break before attempting to lug my bag up the flight of stairs in front of me. I was gonna need more than a few minutes. I wasn’t used to the Texas heat. It made every step I took feel twenty times harder.
Wes chuckled, rising to his feet and meeting me at the bottom step. Taking the handle from me, he lifted the bag, carrying it up the steps and into the house without another word. Dragging my own tired butt up the steps, I followed him inside.
He disappeared down the hall with my luggage as I took in my surroundings in the quaint living room, noting it was exactly how I expected: bare-bones furniture, a few family photos, dirty boots haphazardly discarded by the door, a stench of manhood in the air, your typical bachelor pad, minus the gaming table.
My eyes swept around the room and to the kitchen area. I stood corrected. What I’d assumed upon first glance was a kitchen table was actually a poker table. I was pretty sure the fridge would be stocked with beer, a few random condiments, and if I was lucky, some nearly expired lunch meat.
The open floor plan was a spitting image of the one I’d been staying in the last few days, with the exception of some upgrades, like the huge plasma TV mounted to the wall and the very expensive looking surround-sound system installed. I knew from the other house there were two bedrooms and one bath that we’d be sharing. I just hoped he wasn’t one of those men who left his facial shavings around the sink’s edge.
If we were going to be roommates, we were going to have to set some ground rules. Especially when it came to sharing a bathroom. Wes reappeared, his tall, built figure angling against the hall wall in a casual pose, arms crossed as he studied me.
“You look nervous.”
“Not one bit. Just not sure this is a good idea.”
“Why’s that, city? Afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”
“Exactly the opposite. More afraid by the end of this, one of us will end up dead—most likely you—and the other in jail for murder.”
He chuckled, straightening and taking the last few steps into the living room. “I have to admit, I wasn’t too sure about this myself. I’ve never lived with a woman before. And I don’t normally allow the ones I bring home to stay the night.”