Resisting my Roommate (Sycamore Falls #3)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JUDE

“I’m impressed,” Dylan remarks, breezing into the taproom Tuesday afternoon as I wipe down the glasses that just came out of the dishwasher.

“What are you talking about?” I ask with a furrowed brow. “I polish glasses all the time.”

“Not that. I told you to hire someone, and the next time I come in, there’s already someone new working?” She nods toward the patio where Abbey’s currently talking animatedly with a few of the guys from the local repair shop, as if they’re old friends instead of strangers.

That seems to be the effect she has on people. I noticed it the night she walked in wearing that wedding dress. And I’ve seen it again today as I’ve watched her work. People are drawn to her.

Hell, I’m drawn to her. It’s part of the reason I’ve been hanging out here instead of in the brewhouse, even though there are dozens of things needing my attention. I tell myself I’m just being a good boss and making sure she doesn’t run into any problems on her first official day here.

In reality, it’s because I like being able to look her way every few seconds.

“Who is she?” Dylan asks, ducking underneath the bar to store her purse in its usual hiding spot.

“Just a new employee,” I respond dismissively.

“Gee, really? I didn’t figure that out,” she shoots back sarcastically. “Who is she? She’s not a local.”

“She’s not.”

She parts her lips, about to continue her inquisition, but I cut her off before she can.

“How were Presley and Jeremiah?”

Dylan studies me for a protracted beat, her piercing green eyes analyzing everything I do. I expect her to accuse me of purposefully changing the subject. I don’t know why I’m not being forthcoming with her. It’s not like she won’t eventually find out who Abbey is.

But she’s not just my new employee. She’s also my new roommate. There’s no doubt in my mind she’ll overthink what that means. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Presley’s doing a little better,” she finally answers as she washes her hands. “Some kids at school still make fun of her because she won’t talk.”

“Fucking assholes,” I mutter, unable to stop myself.

I may not have spent much time with my niece and nephew before they moved here, but I feel fiercely protective of them as they attempt to adjust to life without their mom. As if that’s not bad enough, Presley was in the car with her mom while she took her last breath. When the paramedics found them, she was clutching her hand.

All because some asshole teenager just couldn’t wait a few more minutes to send a text.

It’s no wonder she hasn’t spoken since. I’m not sure I’d want to talk after going through something like that at only six years old.

Hell, I didn’t want to talk after going through something similar at my current age. Still don’t.

“She’s making friends, though,” Dylan pipes up, pulling out a cutting board and getting to work on slicing some oranges used to garnish one of my lighter brews. “A few of the girls in class play with her at recess. According to her teacher, they play the ‘quiet’ game.”

“The ‘quiet’ game?”

“Apparently, they can only communicate using body language. The first person who talks loses.” She flashes me a mischievous smile. “Presley is the reigning champion.”

“Of course she is,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m glad she’s adjusting, all things considered.”

“Me, too,” she answers affectionately, the love she has for her niece and nephew apparent.

That’s the one thing I’ll never take for granted. My siblings may get on my nerves, but they’re always there for each other when it counts. Especially Dylan.

In many ways, she’s the glue that holds us together, even if she’s the youngest.

She not only helps me out at the taproom whenever I need it, she’s been practically raising Presley and Jeremiah for our oldest brother, Hayden. She’s done more than most people would in her position. All the more reason I’m glad I hired Abbey. My sister deserves to take some time for herself. Pursue her own passion, whatever that may be.

“Now that I’ve answered your question, it’s time you answer mine. Who’s the new girl? And don’t give me some lame answer about her being a new employee.”

I inwardly groan as I pull more glassware out of the dishwasher. I should have known Dylan wouldn’t let it go. She can be like a dog with a bone. She won’t let up until she’s gotten to the juicy bit.

“Her name’s Abbey,” I finally relent, but don’t look my sister directly in the eye, keeping my focus on polishing the glasses. “And you’re right. She’s not local, but she needed a job and, as you’ve reminded me time and again, I need more staff. So there you go.” I run the cloth against the glass a touch harder than necessary. “More staff.”

“Abbey? Why does that name…” She trails off and sucks in a sharp breath. “Is that the runaway bride?”

I look in Dylan’s direction, about to remind her that one awful incident doesn’t define who she is. But before I can, Abbey’s voice cuts in.

“Guilty as charged,” she sings, an air of confidence about her as she floats toward the serving station. “Abbey Rhodes.” She extends her hand toward my sister, and they shake.

“Dylan Lawrence.”

Abbey’s eyes widen. “You’re Jude’s sister!”

“The one and only. Literally. Out of five kids, I’m the only girl. You can imagine what my dating life is like with four older brothers. Four overbearing older brothers. Especially this one.” She hooks a thumb my way.

I lean against the counter and cross my arms in front of my chest, enjoying the lull before the post-work rush. “In my defense, some of the guys you dated were assholes, Dyl.”

“No worse than you, my darling brother,” she teases before returning her attention to Abbey. “How are you settling in?”

“Great. The people in town here have been very welcoming. Especially Jude. If it weren’t for him, I’m not sure what I would have done.”

“Is that right?” Dylan floats her curious eyes from Abbey to me, as if trying to unravel a puzzle. But there’s no puzzle to unravel. Abbey needed help. End of story.

“Between the job and his spare room, he’s been a life saver,” Abbey continues.

Dylan’s smirk grows wider with every piece of information she shares. It’s not the fact that she’s working here and staying in my spare room that has my sister acting this way. It’s the fact that I obviously tried to keep it from her. Why, I’m still not sure.

“So you’re staying in his spare room.” Although her statement is in response to Abbey, I can tell it’s actually directed at me.

“Just until I find somewhere else to live, so if you hear of anyone who’s looking for a roommate, let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Dylan responds with a sly grin in my direction, which I return by shooting daggers at her, the two of us engaged in a silent argument, much like we often did as kids when we didn’t want our parents to yell at us for fighting again.

Some things never change.

“Thanks.” Abbey looks between Dylan and me with confusion, then grabs the two beers I just poured for her. “Great to meet you, Dylan.”

“Oh, it is absolutely fantastic to meet you, Abbey.”

The crease in her brow deepens in response to Dylan’s tone, but she doesn’t question it, turning and heading out to the patio instead.

“So…” Dylan sidles up beside me and leans against the stainless steel counter once we’re alone.

I ignore my sister, continuing to polish each piece of glassware with focus and precision, as if it’s the most important task on my to-do list. Pretending I’m too busy to talk is my only defense against my sister’s incessant nagging, albeit a weak one.

“You not only hired the runaway bride, but you’re living together?” She lets out a low whistle. “Talk about moving fast.”

“Stop being so damn dramatic, Dylan. It’s not like that.”

I place the freshly polished glass onto the shelf and grab a new one, sneaking a quick glance toward the patio.

“From where I’m standing, it kind of looks like that.”

I snap my head forward again. “I’m just helping her out. As if her ex cheating on her isn’t bad enough, when she called her father for help, he refused.”

“Really?”

“Wouldn’t let her stay with him or send money.”

Dylan’s jaw drops and she shakes her head. “Wow. That’s… What a douche.”

“Tell me about it. Could you imagine if you were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no money after learning the man you were supposed to marry has been cheating on you, and when you called me for help, I essentially said ‘sucks to be you but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’”

“Pretty sure I’d be bailing all of you out of jail for murdering my ex. Provided I didn’t get to him first.”

A small laugh escapes my throat. “You probably would be.”

We may be joking, but there’s no doubt in my mind I’d do whatever it takes to protect my little sister. The idea of her going through something similar played a big part in why I offered to help Abbey in the first place. I couldn’t stand the thought of my sister being in Abbey’s shoes with no one to turn to.

“I’m proud of you, Jude. This could be good for you. Could be exactly what you need to move on.”

“What are you talking about?”

Dylan pauses in the midst of slicing an orange, pinning me with a knowing look. “I’m talking about finally moving on from Krista.” She swallows hard. “And?—”

“Don’t,” I bark out, my voice reverberating against the walls, drowning out the rock music being piped in through the speakers.

A few of the patrons glance our way, and I give them an apologetic look before returning my attention to the glassware.

“I’ve moved on,” I tell my sister, although my voice lacks any conviction.

“Sure you have,” she snips back, her words laced with disbelief. “That’s why you still live in the same damn house. It’s been three years, Jude.”

“So you just want me to forget?” I bite out, trying to keep my voice low, even as my emotions threaten to boil over. “Do you tell Presley the same thing? Tell her she just needs to get over losing the most important person in her fucking life?”

“I’d never ask her or you to forget. It’s like asking the sun not to rise or the rivers to stop flowing. It won’t happen.”

She sets the knife on the cutting board and steps toward me, giving my tense forearm a reassuring squeeze.

“But like I tell Presley… Her mom would want her to have the best life. The same goes for you, Jude. And maybe this is exactly what you need so you can finally have that.”