Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
MILO
M arilee stands at the kitchen counter, nursing a steaming mug of coffee. She’s barefoot, and her hair is still wet from a shower she must’ve taken when I was outside chopping wood.
Marilee doesn’t look surprised by my voice. She turns and offers a slow smile. “How are you doing, Roomie?”
I stretch my neck, then my back. A sharp pop echoes across my spine, and I wince before I can catch myself.
“Don’t call me that,” I snap. I can normally control my temper pretty well, but something about this curvy redhead pushes all my buttons. She’s trying to wind me up and knows she’s succeeding.
She eyes me over the rim of her mug. “You alright?”
“I’m fine.” I roll my shoulders again, trying to stretch the soreness out of my back. “Didn’t sleep well.”
She leans a hip against the counter, watching me with a half-smirk that has me regretting letting her stay. “Let me guess. Hammock wasn’t quite five-star accommodations?”
“It was perfectly adequate,” I lie. Damn hammock is meant for naps, or at least people who don’t have scars that ache during chilly nights.
My granny’s quilt barely held off the chill that rolled in, and I spent half the night shifting to keep pressure off my right hip. But I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than admit I should’ve slept inside.
I glance toward the bathroom, where I saw her damn soap sitting beside mine and stinking up the bathroom.
I’ve been back less than a day, and I don’t know what the fuck to think. It wouldn’t have been right to throw her out, and I know full well that Misty Mountain is jam-packed this time of year. Still, that doesn’t mean I suddenly like having someone invading my space. I haven’t shared quarters with anyone since my days in the Army, and it’s not something I’ve missed.
Peace and quiet is how I like it. And this woman is everything except that.
“I didn’t agree to this,” I say, resting one hand on the back of the couch. “You being here. Taking over my space.”
She doesn’t flinch. “You agreed not to kick me out. I’m holding you to that.”
I scowl at her. I know I said that last night, but there’s a difference between doing the right thing and wanting this. “This is temporary,” I mutter.
“Obviously.”
“Don’t get too comfortable.”
“Oh, I’m already comfortable,” she says, then flashes that damn smile again. “You always this grumpy?”
I narrow my eyes. “You always this mouthy?”
Her grin widens and it raises my hackles even more. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”
She finishes her coffee and crosses to the sink to rinse her mug. Her shirt shifts with her movement. Soft cotton pulls tight across her back, and I have to look away before I start imagining what it’d feel like to run my hand down the curve of her spine.
It’s not that she’s sexy, because she is—curvy, with that luscious red hair framing her face, confident, and brave. I know what I look like, and the way she stood up to me last night—a strange man invading her space—was unexpected. I respect how she stood her ground, even if it was infuriating.
It’s that she’s here. In my house. Moving through my space like I’m the guest.
“I never wanted a roommate,” I say again, quieter this time.
“Yeah, well,” she says, turning off the tap, “me, neither. But life is full of surprises.”
I swallow down the heat curling in my gut. “Hank had no right renting this place out without telling me.”
“Then take it up with Hank.” She dries her hands on a towel. “I have a lease. And no other options. Unless you’re offering to put me up somewhere else, like the resort.”
I snort and shake my head. That place is the reason it’s so crowded here in summer. It was better before, though business is definitely better for everyone in Misty Mountain because the resort brings in all the tourists. Still, I miss the quiet summers.
She shrugs like that settles it. “Then I guess we’re roommates.”
I grip the edge of the counter and stare at the floor. The knot in my shoulder tightens. She’s not wrong. Every place in town’s booked. Even if I wanted her gone, there’s nowhere to send her.
And if I’m being honest, part of me doesn’t want her gone.
Which is a problem.
“Fine,” I mutter. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Thank you, Roomie. ”
“I told you not to call me that.” She’s enjoying this a little too much and making me rethink not kicking her out, lease or no lease.
She walks past me and heads into the bedroom, humming as she goes.
The second she’s out of sight, I exhale. My fingers press into the counter’s edge until my knuckles pale.
She’s dangerous because I can already feel an attachment to her. It’s unnerving as fuck because I don’t normally feel anything for people. And it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.
She comes back out wearing tight jeans that make my cock throb to attention and a Rusty Elk T-shirt that hugs her heavy tits in ways I shouldn’t think about. Fuck. Me. This woman has the kind of body you want to spend a weekend in bed with. I can definitely think of ways to silence that sassy mouth of hers.
“What time are you back tonight?” I ask because I need to know how much peace and quiet I can get before she comes back in and upends my life all over again.
Marilee’s halfway down the steps, keys jingling as she adjusts her bag. “I have to close. So late. I can’t help the sound of my car, but I’ll do my best to be quiet when I come in.” She pauses and looks at me, her green eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Why are you glaring at me?”
She smiles as she looks over her shoulder at me, but I can hear the laughter behind her words. She has the upper hand here…and she knows it. This is going to be a long damn month.
I take a slow sip from my coffee mug and lean against the porch rail. “I’m not glaring.”
“You’re definitely glaring.” She turns to face me fully. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to throw me off the mountain.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I mutter.
She laughs and starts toward her car. “Well, good thing I’m quick on my feet.”
I watch her cross the gravel, not answering. Her hips sway naturally, and I’m transfixed by her thick thighs and full ass. She probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Then again, she probably knows exactly what she’s doing and knows I can’t help but watch her.
I should look away, but I don’t.
“You always this tense?” she asks, walking back around the front of the car to the driver’s side. “Or is this just a me thing?”
“It’s a you thing,” I say. “And a mornings thing. And a general people thing. And anyone who calls me Roomie.”
“Well, lucky me.” She laughs. “I hit the jackpot.”
She opens the door, one hand on the frame, but doesn’t get in yet.
I glance at her. “We stay out of each other’s way. That’s the deal.”
She winks at me, and I’m damn near speechless. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, some of us have jobs to get to.”
She slides into the car, then pauses, looking up at me through the open window. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone.”
“Not a chance.”
I stand there watching her go until she reaches the bend in the road and disappears, then I exhale and let the silence wash over me. But instead of relief, something new and uncomfortable tightens my chest. Ignoring it, I walk back into my home, but that doesn’t help.
The scent of her soap still lingers near the front door. Looking around my living room only makes me see the small ways she’s tried to make my home hers. I should be angry about it because my home is my sanctuary. I never have people over.
But somehow, I like the imprint of Marilee on my world. It aggravates me like a motherfucker, but I’m not sure I want to resist her.
Marilee is a force of nature. She’s mouthy. She’s headstrong. She’s also not scared of me.
And the most aggravating part?
A piece of me is glad she’s here.