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“Holy shit, did you seriously think—” Quinn cut off when Alex slugged him in the arm, then he dissolved into a fit of laughter.
Roxie glared at them both. Jerks.
“Nah, Rox,” Joe said, his stupid blue eyes twinkling. “I have some money set aside. I’m going to take some time off and figure out what I want to do when I grow up.”
“Ha, good luck with that,” she said. A moment later, her eyes narrowed. “Hey, remember that challenge we made about dinner?”
Joe’s grin grew wider. “Nuh-uh. Nope. Doesn’t count. I was teasing you in afunnyway, not being a dick. See?” He pointed at Quinn. “The sheriff over here is still laughing.”
Roxie glared back and forth between the two idiots, biting the inside of her cheek to keep a smile at bay. She’d forgotten just how much they enjoyed ganging up on her when the opportunity arose.
Rolling her eyes dramatically—because she couldn’t let on just how much she’d missed this—she stood. “Come on, Alex. Let’s go check on your little angel upstairs. And leave the clean-up to Tweedledum and Tweedledumber.”
CHAPTERNINE
Roxie’s eyes blinked open as a delicious, savory smell hit her nose.
Was that bacon? Did she smell bacon? Inhaling deep, she confirmed her suspicion. A smile grew on her face. Because really, was there any better smell to wake up to?
Rolling over, she cuddled into her body pillow and glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table.
Her heart stopped.
Seven fifteen. Roxie shot up straight as panic surged through her body. A split second later, she relaxed.
It was Sunday. Her forced day off.
With a relieved sigh, she flopped onto her back and willed her racing heart to calm.
She’d skipped her morning run the last couple of days. In part because the mysterious photo had freaked her out, but also because Joe was acting like a caveman, insisting that if she went running, he would join her.
Okay, fine. He wasn’t being a caveman, per se. Just overly cautious.
But even though she had agreed to work on mending their friendship days ago, she was still nervous. Hence why the idea of spending the first hour of her day alone with Joe—before coffee, before she’d gotten her morning endorphins, before she’d gotten her head on right—was the last thing she’d wanted to do.
However, missing her morning runs had left her out of sorts. And being out of sorts during an unexpected rush at the café had only added to her stress. Despite the crappy January weather, a ton of tourists had descended onto their little island for the weekend. The last two days had been a blur of scrambling to accommodate the sudden influx of demand.
Not that she was complaining. The crowded café, along with two catering events on Friday and Saturday, had given her a legit excuse to avoid not only Joe, but Quinn, too. She knew the guys meant well, but the hovering was... a lot.
She’d been prepared to face the rush again today, but then late yesterday, she’d been ambushed by Nina, who’d insisted that Roxie take the day off.
Of course, Roxie had told the woman that she was crazy. But then Sheila and June had chimed in. Apparently, between the three of them, they’d figured out a way to cover Roxie’s hours every other Sunday. Because they weren’t delusional; they knew she’d never agree to takeallSundays off.
Pulling the duvet to her chin, she studied the swirls on the textured ceiling. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. It was the first full day she’d had off since... well... since she’d been in the hospital after the Woodsworth shit show eight months ago.
Her schedule since then had been ridiculous. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d needed Nina, Sheila, and June to force the issue. To make her step away and breathe. Because despite being exhausted for quite some time, the workaholic and control freak in her hated to admit when she needed help. Even though the women she employed were more than capable of taking on more hours and responsibility.
Roxie took another deep breath in, and the aroma of bacon—wait, was that coffee too?—made her stomach growl. Maybe this housemate thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
She climbed out of bed and searched for her fluffy purple robe. After tossing it on over her pajamas, she headed down the stairs. Twisting her hair into a messy bun atop her head, she rounded the corner toward the kitchen and froze.
Whenever she heard the wordmouthwateringin relation to a person, she always laughed. Was a gooey lasagna mouthwatering? Yes. A freshly baked blueberry pie? Most definitely. A person? Yeah, right.
Until now.
Holy. Crap.
Joe stood at the island stovetop, frying bacon. Without a shirt. Displaying broad shoulders, ripped arms, and a washboard stomach that bordered on ridiculous. There were guys with six-packs and that deliciousV... and then there was Joe.
