know what you liked, so I picked up a regular coffee and a latte. They may be cold by the time you see this. There’s cream and sugar in the bag along with some breakfast.
Dax
P.S. A key to the front and back door is under the mat out front.
FYI: I’ll be home late tonight.
I plopped down in the nearest chair, staring at the paper, my fingers running over his signature. Like him, it was expressive with a big swoop on the end of the x.
I considered writing him a reply on the back, but in the end I didn’t.
I didn’t know what I’d say.
Opening the bag, I saw three chocolate donuts and a giant sugar cookie. My mouth watered, and I realized I’d never eaten dinner. After warming up the latte in the microwave, I stuffed a donut in my mouth, grabbed my keys, and headed out to see my mom and Malcolm.
I’d worry about Dax later.
THE MORNING AFTER Remi moved in, I got up around seven to meet Declan at the gym. He was training hard for an upcoming MMA exhibition in Charlotte, and he’d picked me as his training partner. More like punching bag, I smirked as I cranked my Range Rover and left the house. I stopped at Starbucks, grabbed some items, and ran them back to the house for Remi. Then I sat down and wrote her a note.
Last night after Remi had gone upstairs and gone to bed and Axel and the girls had left, I’d found myself standing outside Remi’s door. Dying to talk to her and I had no freaking explanation for it. With my hand on her door, I’d stood there for an agonizing ten minutes, debating on whether or not to knock.
My hands had touched her doorknob, my fingers itching to turn the handle and walk inside. I needed to apologize, to beg her to forgive me for my stupid comments in the bathroom.
But . . .
I had no right to even consider going into her private room when she was asleep. In fact, I was being a stalker by even standing outside her door because she was nothing to me. Not even a friend anymore.
Just a bloody roommate.
She was the only girl I’d ever talked to about Mum, the only girl I’d ever fake-married, the only girl I’d ever made love to . . .
I walked away, tearing myself away from the door that stood between us.
Hartford stood between us too.
The best thing to do was to move on—be the usual goodtime Dax and forget about us in London.
I gritted my teeth and forced thoughts of her away.
Thank God I was going to the gym because I needed to punch something.
I walked into Front Street Gym. The older lady at the front desk—Maria—gave me a quick wave and a smile. Declan had hired her in May when he’d had the grand opening.
“Hey! How’s the house?” she asked.
I grinned. “Got a fresh coat of paint on it and a roommate. It’s all good.”
She cocked her head. “Hmmm, Declan said you might be open to selling.”
“Absolutely. You buying a house soon?” I’d been headed toward Declan who was in the back with a private client, but I backed up. Prospects.
“No, but my sister is looking for a place since her divorce—tired of her small apartment, I guess.” She tapped a pen on the desk.
I leaned on the counter and gave her my full attention. “Really. What’s she looking for?” I knew what I liked in a home—but if I wanted to buy and sell, I’d need to think about the customer.
She thought about it. “She loves a big kitchen since she likes to cook.” Her eyes brightened. “Oh, she has three grandkids, so a big yard and extra bedrooms would be great.”
I nodded. Hmmm. “Give me a few months to get it fixed up and I’d love to show it to her.” I pulled a white business card out of my gym bag that Declan had suggested I have made at a local printer. Stamped in black was my name, the address of the house, and cell number. Simple but it got the point across. I smiled as I handed it over to her.
I said goodbye and headed inside the gym. Organized chaos, Front Street was crowded already, and I weaved between the mats and sparring ring for the running room. I’d already seen Declan working with one of his private clients near the back. Waiting for him to wrap up, I