A Very Grumpy Roommate (Wolf Valley: Grumps #11)

Chapter 1

ONE

Daisy

The bell above the front door jingles as my last client leaves for the day, waving cheerfully.

“Thanks again, Daisy! You always work magic.”

If only I could do that on electric bills.

“Anytime,” I call weakly, then sag when the door shuts and the street outside goes quiet.

The silence presses in, too familiar, too heavy.

There are worse places to have a meltdown than inside a hair salon that smells like lavender shampoo and coconut-oil conditioner. At least that’s what I tell myself as I stare at the stack of unpaid bills spread across the front counter of A Cut Above.

My family’s salon.

My legacy.

My impending doom.

The top envelope mocks me with a bright red FINAL NOTICE stamp, as if it’s personally offended that I haven’t magically manifested five thousand dollars out of thin air. I press my palm to my chest and breathe through the ache.

This shop has been in my family since my great-grandma opened it in the fifties. She used to cut hair while gossiping with women in curlers, serving lemonade in mason jars as if it were a social club disguised as a salon. My grandma took over next, then my mom. And now… me.

The last string holding it all together, and right now, that string feels frayed.

My phone buzzes in my apron pocket. I don’t need to look to know who it is.

Alexi: Tell me you didn’t forget our ten-minute vent-session. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.

I laugh despite the panic clawing at my insides. Alexi is my best friend and has been since forever. She’s like a sister to me, and we’ve been through thick and thin together. She lives just down the street from me here in Wolf Valley, and we see or talk to each other every single day.

I hit call instead of texting back and smile as her bright voice fills my ear.

“Okay. Scale of one to ten, how dramatic is today’s crisis?”

“Twenty-seven.” I sigh.

“Oof. Burn it down?”

“No, I can’t,” I whisper. “My great-grandma built this place. It still smells like her rose perfume sometimes.”

There’s a pause. I know she hears the wobble in my voice.

“How bad is it? Really,” she says softly. “Tell me.”

I sink into the worn floral chair beside the dryers.

“The house needs repairs,” I say. “The roof leaks when it rains, and the back porch steps are rotting. The shop’s been slow for months. And the bank—” My throat tightens. “They’re threatening foreclosure. On both properties.”

“Shit,” she groans.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve already cut down on spending, increased my hours…”

“You ran that Mother’s Day sale—”

“I know,” I groan. “I’ve tried everything except selling my organs on the black market.”

“Not recommended.” She snorts.

I smile. Barely.

“I don’t want to lose my grandmother’s house or this shop,” I whisper.

“It’s all I have left of her. The creaky floors.

The backyard lilac bush. The dent in the kitchen cabinet where she bumped it with her hip while baking cookies…

I can’t sell it. And the shop, this town needs it.

I need it! What would I do for a job otherwise? ”

“Okay,” she says, shifting into Problem-Solving Mode. “I have an idea. A radical idea.”

“Go on. I’m desperate.”

“You should get a roommate.”

I blink. “What?”

“Someone to rent the spare room at your house. You have space. You need help with the bills. It might be the perfect solution.”

“Living… with someone?” My stomach flips.

“Preferably not a serial killer,” Alexi adds. “But yes.”

“I’m disorganized,” I warn. “I shed bobby pins like confetti. I hum to myself. I talk to my dog.”

“Your dog is the best thing about you.”

“Rude.”

“You love me.”

I do.

I sigh again.

“Who would want that as a roommate?”

“Lots of people!” Alexi assures me.

A roommate. Could I really? Could I afford not to?

I picture the house; the faded blue siding, the flower boxes, the sagging porch swing. My chest tightens.

“I’ll try it,” I whisper.

“YES!” Her voice blasts through the phone. “Okay, post goes live tonight. I’ll help you screen them. No jam-band hippies. No ferrets. No creeps.”

“Wait, why specifically ferrets?”

“Have you ever smelled a ferret?”

“…no.”

“Exactly.”

I laugh again. It helps. A little.

“Call me later,” she says softly. “We’ll manifest someone amazing.”

“I’ll take someone who pays rent on time and doesn’t steal my conditioner.”

“Dream big, babe.”

I laugh as I end the call, gather the bills, and shove them gently into my bag. When I lock up the salon and step into the evening air, the mountains glow purple in the distance.

Wolf Valley is beautiful, but I can’t focus on its beauty today. I’m too stressed, too terrified.

My house is just a few blocks away from the salon, and it only takes me five minutes to get home. When I pull up to my grandmother’s house and climb out of my car, my rescue mutt, Bean, launches himself at the front window like a furry missile. His tail thumps wildly.

“Hi, baby,” I coo as I open the door. He’s a golden-brown mop of love and has zero concept of personal space. “You will never have to pay rent. Ever.”

He licks my chin. I take that as gratitude.

Later, after dinner—a grilled cheese—I open my laptop and stare at the blank listing form.

Seeking roommate. Quiet home. One bedroom, shared bath. Must love dogs.

I groan, wondering what else to add. What am I looking for? Who do I want to live with?

My phone rings, and I sigh as I answer it.

“Hey,” I greet Alexi.

“Hey! What are you up to?”

“I’m working on the listing,” I admit.

“Yay! Should I come over? I can bring some wine! Or we can go out to the bar? Maybe you’ll meet your Prince Charming tonight, and he’ll sweep you off your feet and pay all your bills.”

“That would be amazing, but I think that we both know every guy here in this small town. My Prince Charming isn’t one of them.”

“That’s true.” Alexi sighs.

The two of us bonded over being hopeless romantics. We spent our childhood and teen years having sleepovers where we watched romcoms and ate junk food all night. When we were in our late teens, we started reading romance books, the steamier the better.

For all of that romance, the two of us have never dated.

We took each other to prom and homecoming.

All the boys in our class seemed like… boys.

We were used to swooning over handsome leading men from our books or movies.

We didn’t want fumbling boys. Unfortunately for us, that severely limited our options.

“So, want me to bring the wine?” Alexi asks.

“Sure. I think I’m going to need it.”

I hang up with her and scratch Bean’s ears as he curls up next to me on the couch. A few minutes later, the front door opens, and Alexi comes in, shedding her coat and shoes. She beelines into the kitchen, then into the living room, carrying two wine glasses and a bottle of wine.

“Oh, you brought the good stuff,” I joke as she twists the wine bottle cap off.

“Anything for you, boo.”

She grins as she pours us both a big glass of wine. I take a sip of mine and then a bigger gulp as I stare at my computer screen.

“What do you have so far?” she asks, stealing my laptop.

“Not much.”

She starts to type. “I can see that.”

I peek over her shoulder. “I don’t know if I would call this place charming. Not with the leaky roof and all.”

“No, that works. It’s like realtor speak.”

I trust Alexi, so I lean against the couch cushions, petting Bean as I sip my wine.

“There! All done. Should I hit publish?”

I scan over the listing and sigh. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

She claps before she hits publish.

I finish the last of my wine. “Now what?”

She refills my glass. “Now we wait. Hopefully, you get some applicants soon.”

“Hopefully,” I echo.

We spend the rest of the night finishing the wine and talking. When I wake up in the morning, we’re both cuddled up on the couch with Beans between us.

“What time is it?” Alexi groans.

“Early,” I croak.

“Ugh.”

I stand and stumble to the front door to let Beans out to go to the bathroom. He does his business, and I wander into the kitchen to brew coffee for Alexi and me.

“Daisy!” Alexi shouts.

I trip as I rush back into the living room. “What? What is it?”

“You have applicants!” she says, turning the laptop to show me. “And they clicked that they want to come check out the place today!”

“Today?” I squeak.

“Yeah, in a few hours…or, um, soon,” she corrects. The first one is really soon.”

We stare at each other in panic.

“Shit!” we shout at the same time.

Then, we’re both rushing around.

“I’ll be back in twenty!” she calls, running out the front door.

“Got it!”

I skid around the corner and into my bedroom. Grabbing clean clothes, I jump in the shower to rinse off. I’m brushing my teeth and tugging on my pants when Alexi comes back in.

“I put Beans in the front room,” she says.

“Thanks.”

“All set?”

“I think so?” I reply, but it comes out more like a question.

Beans barks as someone knocks on the front door.

“Better get out there,” I say.

Alexi nods.

I open the door to the first applicant, and from there, the day is a disaster.

The first applicant is a guy in his early twenties who claims to be a musician. He seems disorganized and rude, and when he asks if I’m okay with midnight jam sessions and for his band to practice here, I know that he’s a no.

The next applicant shows up thirty minutes late. She rushes in, reeking of perfume that gives me a headache, and from the moment she sits down, I can’t wait to get her out of my house.

The third applicant hates animals, so he’s a no.

The fourth asks whether “companionship” is part of the rent. Alexi screams at him for being a creep, scaring him off before I can even react. Beans growls once he’s gone, and I huff as I sink onto the couch. I scrub my hands over my face and lean my head against the cushions.

“So…that was rough,” Alexi says, sitting next to me.

“Yep.”

“There’s still one more. He applied a few hours ago,” she says, reading over the message.

“Does he seem like a weirdo? Cause then we can cancel it and save the time.”

“No… no, he actually seems kind of great,” Alexi says, sounding surprised.

“Great? How so?”

“He’s polite in the message. Seems professional. It says that he’s in the military and is here for a few weeks every few months, but he wants a permanent place. That would be perfect! You’d get the rent for a part-time roomie!”

“That would be perfect,” I agree. “When will he be here?”

“Uh…”

A knock sounds at the door. Beans barks, wagging his tail happily as he heads over to the front door.

“…now,” Alexi finishes, setting my laptop aside.

I stand and go to answer the door.

“Please be normal, please be normal, please be norma—”

My words die in my throat as I open the door and see the man standing on the other side of the door.

He towers over me, his dark blond hair cut short on the sides and left longer on top. He’s massive, intense, and insanely attractive.

And he looks just as shocked when his gaze lands on me.