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My hardwood floors silently thank me for it. They’ve been through plenty and deserve a reprieve.
Junie barks as soon as I step onto the porch, just like she always does. Then when I open the door, she leaps up, wagging her tail so hard it makes her entire body shake with delight.
You’d think I’d been away for days. But as it happens, it’s only been about four hours since I took my last break from work. I suppose that’s just the way dogs roll.
“Hey, girl. Don’t get too excited,” I remind her, heading straight to my back door and the fenced-in yard I appreciate most at times like these. She bursts through the back door and does her business immediately.
Precious dog. Tries so hard to please. How anyone could have given her up is beyond me.
I sit on a lawn chair on my patio as Junie explores the smells of my tiny backyard.
I pull the napkin out of my pocket.
I only kept it because he was right: I really do hear a lot of local gossip and might hear about someone looking to rent a room because they need some income this summer.
At the time, I’d swear I wasn’t thinking that person might be me.
I stare down at the name he had written by his number.
Dax.
The Ranger. The guy who thinks he’s too hot to date a woman like me.
Which, come to think of it, makes him an even better housemate.
I nibble on my bottom lip, pondering—weighing my need for income against the very real possibility that my hormones will turn me into a puddle of mush if I have to share a house with a guy that blazingly hot every weekend for an entire summer.
But the lure of some extra money wins. I tap the number into my phone and write a text.
“Hi. It’s Millie from the diner on Tybee. Still looking 4 a room 2 rent?”
I stare at it a long while, hesitating to hitsend.
I’ve never had a guy housemate before. I’ve heard they’re handy when toilets clog or spiders need killing. But seeing as I’ve lived alone for nearly five years, I’ve gotten pretty skilled with both a plunger and a can of Raid.
I don’t need a man for any of that.
And what Idoneed a man for—something I nearly forgot I even wanted until he walked through the diner doorway—Dax has already made clear he doesn’t want with me.
Still uncertain, my finger hovers above thesendbutton.
Until Junie comes up to me and flicks her wet nose against my phone in that way she does when she’s demanding my attention.
And my finger touchessendwhether I want it to or not.
Oops.
“Well, that decision’s made, I guess,” I tell my dog, narrowing my eyes on her.
Inwardly, I shrug. I probably won’t hear back from him anyway. Or by the time I do, I will have talked myself out of it.
In my experience, the hotter the guy, the slower the response rate when it comes to emails and texts.
So I’m all the more stunned when my phone lights up within a minute with his response.
“Yeah. Did u hear of something?” he replies.
“Yes.” I nibble my bottom lip, curious as I tap in, “Would u mind if I call Freya and Mason 4 a reference?”
