“Did you hear what I said?”
He crossed his arms and assessed her in a way she felt to her toes. “Why do you want to live here?”
A thinker before he spoke, apparently. Fine, fine.
“You might recall that lovely argument a few days back that led to a customer complaining at your encouragement and me losing my job?” It never hurt to remind him of his part in her imminent financial ruin. “Well, that was about my living situation. I need to find another place to live for the next seven weeks and the schedule you’re describing for Bucky is basically full-time. It would make more sense if I’m on-site and as I also need a roof over my head, I think this would solve two problems with one stone. Or however it goes.”
This explanation was met with silence. So he needed more. Reid was the kind of guy who didn’t make decisions impulsively.
She geared up for her next argument. “Sure, you don’t want anyone living here, especially a complete stranger, but I stayed for the last two nights and I didn’t throw any wild parties or anything. The only thing I did that you clearly don’t approve of is move a couple of mugs around and use your epic shower. If you set the ground rules, then I won’t do anything that pisses you off. Also, I can keep things ticking over here. Get groceries, do your laundry, clean up.” She looked around. “You like it neat. I can make sure it stays that way. And you can deduct a room and board fee from my wages.”
“Okay.”
“I would definitely stay out of your hair when you’re around. I have some other commitments I can work around so I can be gone when you need space or stay in my room—”
“I said okay.”
“What?” She stopped pacing—only now realizing that she had been pacing—and gave him the Reid treatment. A burner of a stare.
“I said you can stay here. Perhaps not forever, but we could try it while you’re looking for another place.”
She would be gone by the end of the year and if she played her cards right, she could stay here that entire time. Resolved to keep that to herself for now, she rushed forward and threw her arms around him. “Reid, that’s amazing. Thank you!”
When he didn’t return her affection, she stood back. “Sorry. Not a hugger. Got it.”
Color flagged his cheekbones and something funny happened to his nostrils. Wow, he had not enjoyed that.
“I’ll definitely look for another place,” she rushed on to cover the awkwardness. “And I should be able to rearrange my yoga classes around your schedule.”
“You teach yoga?”
“Occasionally. These days I’m teaching it to the old folks at Larkvale Senior Living.”
“And you walk dogs? And serve coffee? Well, you did.” Maybe he was rethinking the offer to let her stay. Some people were distrustful of in-your-face poverty, thinking it signified laziness. Nothing said poverty more than multiple part-time gigs.
Best not to tell him about the art class modeling. “Yep. I like to keep busy which is why I will not bother you when you’re here. You won’t even know I’m on site except for your neater-than-neat apartment.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” he said, though he sounded far from convinced. “I said yes.”
He had. So why was she still trying to argue her case? Likely trying to persuade herself this was a good idea. She had little choice. She just needed some breathing room while she waited for her work visa and ensured Edie was in a good place.
“We should talk about rules,” Reid said. “And money. Also, I’ll need to talk to my accountant about taxes.”
Taxes? She was trying to make a buck, not hand it off to Uncle Sam.
“You want to get the government involved?”
He looked at her sharply. Of course he would want the government involved. This guy was not a rule breaker.
“I prefer to keep it all above board.” His pretty mouth set in a grimace.
“Sure. Whatever works.” She couldn’t tell him to break the law. As it was, he was doing her a huge favor. “What rules did you have in mind?”
“I would prefer if you didn’t invite people over.”
“You mean lov-ahs?”
He scowled. “I mean anyone. During the season I need to focus. I can’t do that if there are people here.”
Pesky kids playing loud music.
She had no intention of inviting people over yet she felt an unbearable urge to poke at him. “Will you be able to focus while I’m here?”
“You just said you’d be out a lot or spending the time in your room. That would probably be best.”
A giggle bubbled from somewhere deep, flirted with her lungs, and threatened to climb her throat. By the grace of the housing gods, who clearly recognized a mortal woman in need of a roof over her head, she managed to keep it at bay.
“Got it. And don’t worry about food. I’ll buy my own and I won’t steal yours.”
He shook his head. “I don’t mind about that. You can order anything you want and charge it to my account. I usually get stuff delivered so we can share a cart in the app. Room and board included in your pay.”
That was generous. She wouldn’t abuse it, though. “I can do some cleaning. Though I imagine you have someone come in.” People with money usually had a maid.
“No need to do anything like that. I do my own cleaning. Helps me concentrate.” Ha, she had totally called that. He screwed up his brow, like he was concentrating right now.
Maybe on vacuuming.
What was she getting herself into? She’d lived with roommates before and had a high tolerance for crazy. Backpacking solo though Europe and Asia led to fun interactions with new people, several of whom often had questionable habits. She could fill a Reddit board with her tales of whackery in the room- and hostel-mate department.
So Reid was uptight about his living space. She could work with that. This was a pretty sweet gig for someone who rarely let the hardwood under her feet accumulate dust. Six weeks and she’d be gone.
She moved in closer to the fridge. It was covered with several calendars, one that was obviously for games. “What’s this one?”
“My workout schedule.”
“And this?” She pointed at a different color-coded one.
“Meals. I have certain dietary requirements.”
“This rule about having people over. Does that apply to you?” It was his home and she was a guest, but she did wonder.
“I won’t have anyone over.”
“You aren’t dating anyone?”
“I don’t date. And I don’t fu—uh, screw anyone during the season.”
She could feel her eyes go around at his unvarnished statement. When he said he needed to focus, he really meant focusing on … not having sex.
Wow. “At all? Not even on your away trips?”
“No.”
“So you’re like the Hockey Terminator or something. Always the mission.” Maybe he went nuts once the season was over. An image of him losing his shit, screwing anything not nailed down popped into her head and set her brain on fire.
“You look like you’re thinking,” he said, his gaze dipping to her mouth. Or perhaps she imagined that because she was looking at his mouth.