Roommating (Preston's Mill #1) (13 page)

“How about this? I take my bubble bath, you and Lucy make
nice and watch some TV, and when I’m done, you can help me dry off?”

He considered his options. “I kind of prefer making you
wet,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows.

“I’m totally on board with that too.”

The following Wednesday, Heather was
sitting at the desk in her office, trying to clear out some email but mostly
wondering what Chris and her father were talking about.

Her father had finally been allowed to come back to the
office for a few hours a day this week, and she’d been vigilant about his not
overdoing it. It was almost time for him to leave for the day, but Chris had
gone in to say hello twenty minutes ago, and he was still in there talking to
her dad.

With the office door closed.

She attempted to push her curiosity away and focus on the
words on the computer screen, but she wasn’t particularly successful.

What the hell were they talking about in there for so long?
And why had Chris closed the door? If they were talking about the business,
then she had a right to hear what was said. And if they were talking about
something personal, then what on earth could it be?

She knew she was more sensitive to private conversations
than she should have been because of her parents’ tense conversations in their
bedroom before her mother walked out. So she breathed deeply and told herself
to get a grip.

She loved and trusted her father. She cared about Chris…a
lot. They weren’t in there talking about anything that was going to hurt her.
She wasn’t going to let her insecurities from the past affect her happiness
right now.

And she was happy. She was doing the work she’d always
wanted to do. Her father was getting a lot better.

And she had Chris. Something she’d never even knew she
wanted.

She pretended to work for another ten minutes, until her
father’s office door finally swung open and Chris appeared, his back facing out
as he said a few last words to her dad.

“Sounds good, then,” Chris said. “We’ll talk later.”

Heather fought another swell of curiosity and smiled as
Chris turned in her direction. He grinned and walked into her office.

“Hello,” she said, turning her chair away from the computer.
“That was a long conversation.”

“Yeah.” He was grinning at her, and he didn’t appear to
notice that her comment had invited him to explain the subject of their long
conversation. He walked around her desk so he could lean down and kiss her
lightly on the lips. “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.”

She experienced an immediate wash of pleasure at the words
and gesture, but it was tempered by lingering questions and a good dose of
common sense. “Yeah, right.” She quirked her lips up to show she was teasing.
“I bet you haven’t thought about kissing me all day.”

“You’d definitely lose that bet.” His voice was warm and
textured in that way she really liked. She couldn’t believe she was dating him.
She couldn’t believe it was going so well.

She wasn’t going to act like some sort of jealous, insecure
child and demand he tell her what he was talking to her father about. “So what
were you and Dad talking about for so long?”

Chris’s expression changed. For a moment, he looked almost
trapped, but it was gone before she could fully recognize it. He gave her a
casual smile. “Nothing. Just a couple of jobs that are giving me trouble.”

“What jobs are giving you trouble?” Her eyes widened, since
she was genuinely surprised to hear anything of the kind. Chris seemed to have
everything totally under control. He was going to be as good at this work as
her father was.

“It’s no big deal.” He shrugged, clearly trying to brush off
the topic. “So what did you have in mind for dinner tonight?”

“Chris,” she said frowning, “is something going on? If it
involves the business, then I need to know what it is.”

“It’s nothing. It’s not really about the business. We’re not
trying to wrest control away from you, you know.”

“I know that. I’d never think anything like that. I was just
wondering what you were talking about, and you won’t tell me.”

He was starting to look a little impatient. “It’s nothing,
Heather. Don’t nag.”

She sucked in a breath. He couldn’t have said anything else
that would have made her shut up more quickly if he’d been trying. She didn’t
ask again, but she was left feeling confused and anxious.

Chris and her father shouldn’t have any secrets from her,
but if they didn’t, then why wouldn’t Chris tell her what was going on?

She didn’t like secrets. She didn’t like private
conversations. She knew all too well the heartbreak they could lead to.

***

She was still stewing about it that
evening, even as she kept giving herself mental lectures about not blowing
something little out of proportion.

Both of them stayed at work later than normal, so they just
made soup for dinner, and they ate as they watched television after they got
home. On the surface, everything seemed perfectly fine between them, but
Heather couldn’t help but wonder why he wouldn’t just tell her what he’d been
talking about to her father.

She’d gone over every possibility in her mind, and nothing
she could possibly think of would demand to be kept secret—not from her,
anyway.

Chris came into her room at bedtime, but she was too
unsettled to have sex. He pulled her into his arms and held her in the dark,
and she felt a little better.

He was a good guy. He was into this relationship as much as
she was. Whatever was going on couldn’t be bad.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he murmured, evidently feeling
some kind of tension in her body.

“Nothing. Not really. I mean, it’s nothing big.”

“But it’s something. What is it? You’ve been quiet all
evening.”

She cleared her throat, determined to be mature and honest
about her feelings, since this relationship felt like it might be for real.
“It’s just… You know, before my mom left us, when I was a girl, she and my dad
had all kinds of secrets and private conversations. They…they still make me
kind of nervous.”

“I can understand that. It’s hard to shake feelings like
that.”

Since he sounded sincere—and very sweet—she found the
courage to ask, “Anyway, I just mention it because secrets still make
me…unreasonably anxious. And I’m still wondering what you and Dad were talking
about this afternoon in his office. And I’m wondering why you wouldn’t tell me.”

“Oh.” He paused, and it felt to Heather like he was
searching for the right thing to say. “It was nothing, Heather. Nothing for you
to be anxious about. Just work stuff.”

“If it was work stuff, then why can’t you tell me what it
is?”

“I can’t even really remember. I get that you still have
some issues from your mom, but you’re not actually going to make a big deal
about something so silly, are you?”

His question effectively silenced her. She didn’t want to
have issues. She didn’t want to be silly. She wanted to do the right thing, and
maybe that meant swallowing over her mental discomfort and the lingering sick
feeling in her gut. “Okay,” she managed to say. “Sorry to make a big deal about
nothing.”

“It really is nothing,” Chris murmured, brushing a few kisses
into her hair. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. And your dad would
die before he let something like that happen to you.”

“I know.”

“So there’s nothing to worry about, right?”

He was trying to make her feel better. It was nice.

But she would rather have had the truth.

“Right,” she said, feeling trapped between her urgent
questions and a resistance to behaving unreasonably.

Sometimes it was really hard to be a reasonable adult.

“If you need some way to channel any of that anxiety, I can
think of something we might do,” he drawled.

She smiled, rolling over to face him. “Can you?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She hadn’t really been in the mood, but he looked so
adorably rumpled and sexy—and he was trying so hard to make her happy—that she
changed her mind.

So they ended up having sex after all.

***

The following day, Chris had to work
late at a job site, so Heather went to visit her father after work.

She liked to stop by at least a couple of days a week, so
she could pick up a little and make sure he had groceries in the refrigerator.
He was sitting in his recliner, as usual, watching the evening news rather
drowsily, but he perked up immediately when he saw she’d stopped at the Italian
restaurant in town and brought in takeout.

“Thanks,” he said, sticking a finger into his pasta to see
how hot it was, and then immediately digging in. “I’m starving.”

She chuckled and opened a bottle of beer before handing it
to him. “You’ve got a fridge full of food.”

“Yeah, but all of it is healthy. I wanted something good.”

She opened her takeout container and sat on the couch near
him to eat. “So you’ve been feeling all right today?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his mouth full.

“You did some exercise?”

He rolled his eyes. After he swallowed, he said, “I walked
around the neighborhood. I’m doing fine, Heather.”

Her chest tightened slightly, remembering how scared she’d
been when he was taken to the hospital. She might want him to live forever, but
that wasn’t going to happen. One day, she would lose him.

One day, she’d be all that was left of her family.

“Don’t get all morbid on me,” he grumbled.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I could see morbidity on your face.”

She chuckled. “I’m not being morbid. I promise.”

“Good.” He paused while he took another bite. “How’s Chris?”

“He’s fine.” She felt slightly uncomfortable because of her
worries from yesterday, and she didn’t meet her father’s eyes.

This was evidently all the clues he needed to pick up that
something was wrong. “He’s treating you right, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course he is.” She smiled, trying to clear
her face. She’d never been any good at hiding her feelings—especially from her
father. “He’s a good guy.”

“I think this time he’s going to stick around, you know.”

She nodded. “I hope so.”

“You’re still not sure? I thought you two were all
lovey-dovey now.”

She giggled at his choice of words. “We’re…we’re doing good.
But we haven’t been together very long. You don’t make commitments that soon.”

“I don’t know why not,” her father said, his forehead
wrinkling. “In my day, we didn’t dilly-dally around, like you kids seem to do.”

“Yeah, but it’s different now. And I’m not going to jump
into something without knowing for sure it’s going to work out.”

He frowned again, differently this time. “You never know for
sure if it’s going to work out.”

There was a bittersweet edge to his tone, and she knew
immediately he was thinking about her mother. When he’d fallen in love with
her, when they’d gotten engaged and then married, he must have genuinely
believed it would last forever.

He couldn’t have known she would walk out on him ten years
later and never look back.

The thought made Heather’s throat hurt, and her eyes blurred
over slightly. She still didn’t understand how her mom could have done that to
her father, to
her
, but it happened in this world—every day.

The day might come when Chris would walk out on her.

She was suddenly terrified, realizing how much she’d already
invested emotionally in this relationship. They may have just been together for
a few weeks, but she would be utterly crushed if he left her.

“Now you’re stewing again,” her father said, looking like
his normal self again as he focused on another forkful. “If you’re not willing
to take a risk, you’ll never get to experience love.”

“I know.” She swallowed hard. “I know that. It just seems
smart to be careful until it really seems like the right…the right person. A
person who’s really going to be open and honest with you, who will share their
whole life with you.”

“No argument here.”

She sighed and leaned back against the couch. Then she asked
before she could stop herself. “What were you and Chris talking about in the
office yesterday?”

She didn’t want to be a person who would obsess over
something so trivial, but evidently she was.

Her dad blinked. “What? Oh, nothing. Just some work stuff.”

“What work stuff? If it’s important, then I should know.”

“It wasn’t important. I can’t even remember what job it was
about.”

He was brushing it off, exactly as Chris had. Maybe she was
ridiculous to be making a big deal about it, but both his response and Chris’s
had seemed a little fake to her.

Something was going on. And neither one of them was telling
her what it was.

For just a moment, she felt exactly as she had at eight
years old, staring at her parents’ closed bedroom door, knowing something
terrible was happening behind it but not having any way of finding out what it
was.

With a sigh, she let the subject drop and finished her meal,
but she got up twenty minutes later feeling even more worried and depressed
than she had been earlier.

Her father used to tell her everything. She had no idea why
he wasn’t telling her now—and why he was telling Chris instead.

She was throwing their trash away and cleaning up the
kitchen a little when she noticed the bottom drawer in the hutch was hanging
open. She went to close it and saw that it was mostly empty.

She knew her dad kept a lot of papers and files in the
drawer, so she blinked down at the drawer. “Have you been doing some purging?”
she asked loudly enough for him to hear in the other room.

“No. What do you mean?” he called out.

“This bottom drawer of the hutch.” She stuck her head back
into the living room to talk to him. “It’s empty. What happened to all the
papers?”

“Oh.” He looked startled for a minute. “I gave some stuff to
Chris to look over.”

“If they were work related, they should have gone to me.”