Page 7
“Sand is the only problem with living at the beach. It gets into places a person doesn’t want it to get into.”
A barking laugh slipped out, embarrassing me on the spot.
Thatcher turned a big grin my way. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about shower drains, area rugs, and bed sheets. Anyway, follow me.”
My potential host stopped at a large basket just inside the back screen door, grabbing a towel before tossing one to me. I couldn’t look away as he wiped down his body. His tanned skin had me mesmerized. It seemed to glow.
He hung the towel over a hook on the wall, so I quickly wiped my shins and feet, hanging the damp terrycloth on the hook next to his.
“The bedroom has an attached bathroom with a shower, no tub, a vanity, and a water closet.” He walked down a short hall and opened a door before stepping inside.
I stopped cold, staring at the pale-pink walls and the baby-blue, coral, and mint green pastel flowers on the curtains. I turned to Thatcher and smirked. “This is nice. You pick this out by yourself?” What suddenly made me so cocky, I wasn’t sure, but I liked the guy, and his smile was like a gold star.
“Ha-ha, funny man. My daughter used to stay with me when school was out as she grew up. She picked out the bedding and the curtains, and I painted it for her.”
That brought about more questions than it answered, but it wasn’t my place to pry—at least not yet.
“It’s fine. I don’t really care about the decorating.”
Thatcher nodded, walking out of the room and across the hall to another closed door. “This is my room.”
He opened the door and swept his hand through the air. “I also have my own bathroom. There’s a small powder room off the kitchen for guests, which I rarely have. The washer and dryer are in here.”
He stepped back into the hallway and opened the folding doors to reveal a small closet with a stacked washer-dryer unit, a shelf holding detergent and other laundry needs, and a folding counter. It was an efficient use of the small space.
“That’s nice and convenient.”
Thatcher headed down the hallway to where the kitchen and living room shared an open space. It was decorated in typical beach fashion, with a denim couch and a saddle-tan recliner. A glass-topped bamboo coffee table sat in front of the couch with a green bowl filled with shells on it.
The butter-yellow kitchen had new appliances, light cabinets, and white counters that made the room feel welcoming. I loved it.
“How much is the rent? Do you need a security deposit?” I’d have to go to the bank, but that wasn’t a big deal—just a long walk since I didn’t have a car.
Nobody in the band carried cash, including me. Lerner carried enough for incidentals when we were on the road, and I’d been so caught up in my head since the accident that I hadn’t thought to offer River and Kit money for my share of expenses. I’d need to rectify my thoughtlessness when I collected my clothes and guitars.
“You planning to damage my house?” The left side of his mouth tipped up for an instant before he stared at me.
“No, sir.” My knees were wobbly at his tone.
“Then I don’t see the need for a security deposit. Rent’s three hundred a month, due on the fifteenth. Check or cash, whatever’s convenient for you.”
“That’s it? I know you could ask more because of the beach-front location.” Hell, as far as beach rentals went, it was a drop in the bucket.
Thatcher leaned against the counter and studied me. Finally, he shrugged. “You think it’s worth more, pay more.”
He went to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer, offering me one, which I gladly accepted. “You want something other than what I have in the fridge, tell me and I’ll have it delivered with the regular grocery order. I have a post office box where my mail is delivered. You can give the address to anyone you need to notify.”
Thatcher opened a drawer and pulled out a pad and pen, scribbling something on it before tearing it off and handing it to me. “The post office is on my way home from the station, so I pick up mail when I get off shift. If you want your own post office box, that’s fine too.”
I nodded. It couldn’t be easier to move in with him, but there was one thing nagging at the back of my mind. Would I be able to resist the temptation of him?
Thatcher Emberly was a walking, talking invitation to humiliate myself on a daily basis.
Chapter Two
Thatcher
Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Why the fuck are you offering JD a place to live? You’re too damn old for a roommate! Besides, you haven’t wanted to live with anyone since Jacob Tester… Don’t go down that road.
