we are, with splashes of color all over his drab, white house.
Except his bedroom. It’s the only room he hasn’t allowed me to decorate.
Yet.
I’m anticipating the call my apartment is ready any day. I’d rather just stay here, but I know that’s not going to happen. Although he’s allowed me to bring a little life to his home doesn’t mean he’s ready for a permanent roommate. And he’s welcomed me into his bed pretty much the entire time. He also seems more relaxed, maybe even a little happier than before. None of that means he wants me to stay.
He hasn’t brought up the whole divorce thing, not since early in our roommate arrangement, and I’m not about to say anything. Instead, I’ve tried to show him, day in, and day out, how great of a team we make—together—and I think he may finally see it too.
I smile as I grab the container of treats I made and head out the front door. Today, I’m scheduled to work with my bestie at Kiss Me Goodnight. I’m so excited to spend the time with her. It seems Elma Hanson enjoyed her time away so much, she actually started scheduling herself less hours and asked me to fill in for her. So I added another job to my already busy schedule.
But I don’t mind. I love being so busy, doing a wide variety of jobs.
The drive to the lingerie store is short, and I’m singing Backstreet Boys as I pull into the alley behind the shop. I smile when I see Latham milling around out back by the lumberyard behind the hardware store and pull into the space closest to my bestie’s sexy store.
When I get out of my car, I spot Latham heading in my direction. He waves and smiles when he spies the container in my hand. “Any chance that might be some of your banana bread again?”
Smiling, I open the lid. “Not banana bread, but cranberry and mandarin muffins.”
He glances down, grimacing. “Will I like it?” he asks, hesitantly taking a treat.
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
Latham snorts and takes a bite on the top of the muffin. He chews slowly, pulling a face. “Are there nuts in there?”
“Oatmeal.”
He takes a second bite, again carefully chewing, before he reaches in and grabs a second from the pan. “I’ll just take another for later,” he says before throwing me a grin and a wink and turning to head toward his side of the business. We all know ‘later’ really means like five minutes.
“Enjoy!” I holler, grinning as I close the container and make my way to Harper’s side.
“Thank you, Freedom!”
“You’re welcome, Latham!”
“Were you talking to my husband?” Harper asks when I pop in the back door.
“I was. He stole two muffins,” I tell her, taking my phone out and setting my purse in her small office.
“Only two? He’s always hungry,” she says, shaking her head and grinning like a loon.
“Hungry for your cookie?” I tease, recalling one time I showed up to help with inventory but found them in a very compromising position in the dressing room.
Harper laughs. “That too…”
I follow her to the counter and grab the coffee cup that doesn’t have the lipstick mark on the top and take a sip. “Mocha?”
“Sugar free,” she adds with a wink.
“So, good,” I draw out, groaning in happiness as I take my first sip.
“We have fifteen minutes before I have to unlock the door. Tell me all the deets of living with my brother, but leave out the icky stuff,” Harper begs, her bright blue eyes wide with excitement as she takes a seat on the stool behind the counter.
I shrug. “There’s nothing to tell, really.”
“Bullshit! You painted his front door. I still haven’t heard how you got away with it.” Harper grins over the lid of her coffee cup.
Again, I shrug my shoulders. “His place was in need of some serious color,” I tell her, even though she already knows.
“No shit! Did he flip his lid and start spewing statistics about burglary and crime rates to houses with painted doors?”
I chuckle. “No. I mean, yes, he flipped his lid, but mostly because of all the other stuff I painted too, remember? I’ve learned since then he’s not so bad if I just ask for his input before I do it.”
I can feel my bestie’s gaze from across the counter.
“What?”
“You love him.”
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Instead, I go with the truth. “Totally.”
“So? What are you