The Grumpy Roommate Gamble (Heroes of Huckleberry Creek #1)

3. Gabe

THREE

GABE

The notion that I’d sleep straight through the night when I was accustomed to dozing in snatches and being braced to roll straight into action against insurgents was laughably ambitious. That eighteen straight hours was more like a fitful nine. But at least I’d been in my own bed, and my dreams had been full of a very different sort of homecoming, where Felicity had been waiting for me and dropped that towel so I could explore every delicious, touchably soft inch of her. That potent image was a damned sight better than the nightmares about our camp being attacked again. I’d woken hard and aching more than once in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t the first such fantasy I’d had about Felicity Harmon. She’d held a starring role in my dreams from the moment she’d offered me a pen shaped like a daisy on my first day at Huckleberry Creek High School in tenth grade, when I realized I’d forgotten to bring anything to write with. She’d looked fresh-faced as a daisy herself and just as sweet. Given my own attitude was dialed permanently to surly in the wake of losing both my parents, I’d mostly kept my distance rather than do anything to bruise that petal-soft heart of hers that she wore on her sleeve. But I’d admired her from a distance, existing on the edges of the same friend groups for all these years. She’d stayed sweet. Stayed kinder than anybody deserved. And her body had filled out to the lush curves of a silver-screen goddess to add a little naughty to those girl-next-door fantasies.

And now she was living in my house.

Right. I had to do something about that.

I also needed to do something about the persistent erection I’d woken with. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I indulged in a long shower, scrubbing every inch until I was sure I’d erased every last trace of sand. My damned dick still wasn’t wilting. It wanted release. But it felt wrong to do anything about it with her in the house. Disrespectful somehow. So I switched the tap to cold and stood under the frigid spray, which was its own luxury in a way.

When I climbed out, I wiped the lingering steam from the mirror and studied my face. Several days’ growth of beard darkened my cheeks. I started to reach for my razor, then stopped. I no longer had to shave for regulations. Maybe I’d grow my beard back. It’d be nice to have some insulation for my face as we headed into winter.

Toweling off, I pulled on some gray sweatpants and a T-shirt. They smelled weirdly stale from having been in my dresser drawers all this time, but they were comfortable. Deciding that was good enough for a start, I headed downstairs.

In the broad light of morning, I spotted even more plants than I’d noticed last night, along with other small signs that Felicity had made herself at home here. Colorful pot holders hung on little sticky hooks beside the stove. Equally colorful dishtowels were draped over the handle to the oven. An electric kettle sat beside the coffeemaker, along with canisters of tea.

Despite the tea, I could smell coffee. I sent up a silent prayer of gratitude when I found plenty still in the pot, because it smelled like heaven. I pulled down a mug and filled it, lifting the cup to inhale the rich, dark aroma of real coffee that hadn’t come from instant. That first sip tasted even better. I wondered if it was because I’d been drinking the swill the Army provided for a year or if it was because someone else had made it.

Turning, I spotted a familiar white box with 1980s action movie font in bold red declaring PIE HARD . I lifted the lid to find two massive, glossy cinnamon rolls that would’ve looked right at home on either side of Princess Leia’s head. My mouth began to salivate. Were these up for grabs?

“Your grandmother said they were your favorite.”

I jerked my gaze up to find Felicity hovering in the doorway, looking uncertain.

She offered a hopeful smile. “Consider them a welcome home present?” The fact that she said it like a question made it very clear she was nervous around me. Under the current strange circumstances, I couldn’t blame her.

“Thanks.” The word was barely more than a grunt, but one sip of coffee and eight hours of sleep wasn’t nearly enough to kick my brain fully into gear yet.

“I’ve already called Dorothy. She’s on her way over, but unfortunately I can’t stay. I have to get to the shop to open.”

The shop would be Bloomsday. Because she was the local florist. That explained why my house looked like a miniature botanical garden. I could only blame the prolonged lack of sleep for why that hadn’t occurred to me sooner.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to her about this whole situation and let you know.”

She bit her lip.

Damn, I wished she wouldn’t do that, because it made me want to take a bite out of that lush curve myself. But I was conscious enough to register she was really worried about this whole situation. Was there more to the story than she’d told me last night?

“Right. Sure.” She forced a smile. “Well, you know where to find me.”

“I do.”

We stared at each other.

The kitchen door swung open, and my grandmother bustled in. Approximately five foot nothing, with a riot of white curls and a penchant for velour track suits in primary colors, Dorothy Bishop was a force of nature. At least that’s how she’d always seemed to me. She’d had to be to take on my punk ass after my parents died. But she didn’t look larger than life now. In fact, she looked extra frail as she shuffled across the room in her orthopedic shoes and patted Felicity on the arm. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

Nana looked thinner and somehow more fragile. For the first time in ever, she looked… old to me. Worry set up like concrete in my gut. Was she sick? Was there other stuff she hadn’t told me about?

Felicity offered a blinding smile and hugged her. “I’m sure it will be. I’ve gotta get going. Y’all enjoy those cinnamon rolls.”

Then she was gone, and I was alone with my grandmother.

Nana narrowed the blue eyes that were still sharp in my direction. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

This was not how I’d imagined our reunion going.

“It’s good to see you, too. About what?”

“About the fact that you didn’t bother to tell me you were coming home!”

I folded my arms and leaned back against the counter. “Why? So you could hide the evidence and move Felicity out of my house?”

There it was. The Look. The one that had snapped my spine straighter and prompted more automatic respect than the shouting of any drill sergeant I’d ever had. “Don’t you sass me, Gabriel Edwin Bishop.”

The full name. Maybe she was okay after all. “Maybe I wanted to surprise you. Did you ever think of that?”

“Well, I am surprised.” At this, she opened her arms.

I put down the coffee and folded her in. And it didn’t matter that I towered over her and was easily twice her size. Her hug still made me feel like I was finally home.

She squeezed me with enough force that I retracted my earlier assessment that she’d gotten fragile. “I’m so glad you made it home safe.”

“Me, too.” I stepped back. “You want a cinnamon roll? Felicity was nice enough to bring two.”

Nana waved the offer off. “Those are all yours. I know you’ve missed them.”

“Fair enough.” I pulled one out of the box and onto a plate, popping it into the microwave for fifteen seconds, just to make the icing gooey again. “Now, how ’bout you tell me why Felicity Harmon has been living in my house?”

“A pipe burst at her place. It was just terrible. She was at work at the time, and by the time she got home, the whole thing was flooded. It took three weeks just to find a plumber who’d go in to tackle the source of the problem, and then the cleanup after was just a nightmare.”

“And what happened to Terry? He should’ve been on top of the cleanup.” I’d contracted with the guy to handle property maintenance and repairs while I was deployed.

“That good-for-nothing weasel skipped town six months ago. And everybody else was backed up.”

“Six months? Who the hell has been looking after the properties?”

“I have. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I did it for years before you took over. It was fine until this. But, well, it’s bad, Gabe. I couldn’t just leave Felicity in the middle of all that, so I moved her in here. You weren’t here, and I thought I’d be able to get it sorted before you got home.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “And instead, we both gave each other heart attacks last night when I got in.”

“I’m sorry for not warning you. I know this is a shock, but you can’t kick her out. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

My grandmother had always had a thing for strays. I should know. I’d been one.

“I’m not going to kick her out. I’m a grump, not a monster.”

Nana smiled at me and patted my cheek. “You’re a good boy, Gabe.”

“Do you have the keys? The sooner I get over there, the sooner she can go back to her own place.”

“I don’t. But Felicity still has her set. You can stop by and get them from her at the shop.”

“Fine. I’ll go over today.” Nothing like diving straight back into normal world after a deployment.

Except somehow I knew that this new normal wasn’t going to be normal at all.