Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I wondered how old Casey was. I guessed about twenty-eight, which would make her seven years younger than my thirty-five.
Although some days I felt more like sixty-five.
I shook my head as my phone buzzed with a text. I looked at the screen, nodding to myself at the reply to the message I had sent earlier to one of my firefighter buddies, asking if he’d be available in the morning to help hang some cabinets. Mark’s affirmative reply and confirming he’d be here at ten was good. With the two of us, we’d get the few cabinets installed on that wall quickly. The counter was already waiting. I could get the sink plumbed, and Casey would have a working kitchen. Once that job was complete, we wouldn’t have to see each other much. I had already painted the upstairs a neutral color and done the same in the living room and kitchen. I hadn’t gotten around to the front entranceway yet, but I would arrange a time to do so.
I lay back down, rested my head on my bent arm, staring at the ceiling. I had no idea how long she planned on staying. Tomorrow, I would go through the lists of rules and her rent. Give her boundaries. Tell her mine.
She’d simply be the tenant next door, and I could ignore her for the most part.
Satisfied I had it all worked out, I finally fell asleep.
In the morning, I was groggy and in a bad mood. My dreams had been fractured and odd. Blue eyes, dark hair and a teasing voice kept intruding. Lou’s voice would suddenly fill my head.
“Keep an open mind. Be patient.”
Had she been talking about Casey? What did she mean?
Surely to God, she didn’t think we’d be friends. She knew there were few people I allowed to get that close.
I sighed, pouring a coffee and taking a long sip. I had heard noises from next door, so I knew Casey was awake. I was sure I’d heard her SUV leave at one point but hadn’t gone out to check. It was none of my business what she was doing. She knew I’d be there to work on the kitchen, and I had a key.
I finished my coffee and grabbed some tools, looking at the time. It was just past nine, so that gave me an hour to get things organized before Mark arrived.
I used the back door, knocking first and, when there was no answer, used my key to get inside. I set down my tools and looked around. I was surprised to see the old wallpaper torn off the kitchen wall already. I frowned at the paint cans I could see in the living room, and I went to investigate. I stopped, seeing the pillow and blanket folded neatly on the old sofa.
I knew now where Casey had slept.
She had pushed the furniture closer to the window, and perched on the arm, staring at me, was her cat. He was a tabby—big, with a round face and bright-green eyes. He stared back at me, nonplussed, then stood, stretched, and jumped down, crossing over to me. He sniffed, then wound around my legs, meowing.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He meowed again, using my leg to stretch, his paw reaching up. Unsure, I scratched his head, shocked when he jumped, leaving me no choice but to catch him. He climbed my chest, resting his head on my shoulder, purring loudly.
I had no idea what to do. Usually, cats avoided me. Not hugged me.
“Oh, he likes you!” Casey’s voice startled me, and I turned to face her.
She was in jeans again, a long plaid shirt tied at her hips. Her Doc Martens were in place, and her hair was swept up in a long ponytail, a ribbon of silk hanging over her shoulder.
I blinked.
A ribbon of silk?
What the fuck was I thinking something like that for?
“It jumped up,” I said.
“He only does that if he likes you.” She set down a few bags and another can of paint.
“What is the paint for?” I demanded. “I just painted.”
“I know. It’s a little bland. I wanted to add some color.”
“We need to establish some rules,” I informed her.
“Okay,” she said, perching on the same arm of the sofa her cat had just vacated.
“First off, no renovations or painting without permission.”
“Got it.”
“You’re responsible for paying your utilities on time.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Your rent is due first of the month.”
“How much is it?” she asked.
I floundered since I hadn’t thought about that.
“Five hundred.”
“Okay.”
“No parties.”
Her lips quirked. “Since I don’t know anyone here, not a problem.”
“No drugs.”
“Even Tylenol?” she asked.
I had a feeling she was laughing at me.
“Hard drugs,” I amended.
“Of course.”
“No wild orgies or overnight guests.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “Doesn’t that sort of fall under the whole ‘no parties’ thing?”
I had no idea why I’d said that. The bottom line was, I had no right to tell her no overnight guests. But somehow, the idea bothered me.