Read Rooter (Double H Romance) Online
Authors: Teiran Smith
I’ve spent the entire day cleaning the house, mowing the lawn, and weeding the mulch beds. The house doesn’t get as dirty as fast with Mike gone, but Miranda and I let the cleaning schedule go by the wayside. Therefore, things aren’t being done as often as they should be. The problem is, Miranda doesn’t mind a messy house as where I prefer things to be neat and orderly. However, she has been doing the dishes in the evenings so I must give her credit for that.
After showering and getting dressed, I lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling. It’s so quiet. I love the quiet. I could use a little more quiet in my life.
The ceiling fan blades are coated with dust. I have half a mind to get the step ladder and clean them, but I don’t. As I stare at them, it occurs to me they haven’t been cleaned since before Loraine died. There’s more than a year’s worth of dust on those blades. Dust from when she was still alive. A lump forms in my throat and my chest aches. How can dust make me nostalgic?
I force myself to look away from the blades and check the clock on the wall. Rooter should be home from work in a half hour. We don’t have any specific plans, but I’m sure we’ll do something together since it’s my day off. Maybe we can go for a ride along the lakeshore and then grab dinner somewhere.
Four days have passed since the Mike and Candace incidents. We never heard from Mike after Rooter let him go. Though Rooter and Bear have kept a close eye on me and Miranda just to be sure.
Things between me and Rooter have vastly improved. Candace still calls every day. In some ways, she’s more demanding than ever. Probably because she feels she’s losing her grip on him. But he doesn’t answer her calls or texts when we’re together. He waits and we listen to her messages together and decide whether it truly warrants an immediate return call. So far, none of them have.
Rather than him seeing her every day, it’s turned into every other day, which is a fifty percent reduction, so I’ll take it. I’m hoping over time, as Rooter sees she’s just fine that his visits with her will become even less frequent.
She called all day Sunday—she must know Sundays are my day off—but he never answered. When we woke up that morning we made a vow not to discuss any of the prior day’s events and decided not to attend the Russo family dinner. We needed a day of light and fun, which was ironic considering there was a raging tempest outside.
In light of our oath, we spent the entire stormy day in his house curled up on the couch watching comedies, laughing until our sides ached, and eating junk food. Well, I ate junk food. Rooter never eats junk food. Never. The closest thing to junk food he’ll eat is lightly buttered popcorn. So we always make two separate batches because I like mine doused in butter and sprinkled with salt. As Rooter says, I like a little popcorn with my butter and salt.
Between my work schedule and his we barely see each other except for when I get off work. Naturally, we spend every night together. I still think it’s way too soon for us to be spending every night together. But given our differing schedules and the situation with Mike, I go along with it.
Each night, he curls up against me from behind and we talk for an hour or so about our day, work, and Miranda and Bear. I’m itching to ask about his past and his real dad. I’m eager to learn more about him. But the middle of the night isn’t the time for having such important conversations. And that specific conversation is better to be put off for a little while. I’m all for keeping things light and fun for as long as we can.
My cell phone pings. A text from Rooter:
Ur car is finished. I’ll be by to get u in 15 minutes.
I set my phone down, close my eyes and wait for him to arrive.
When I open my eyes, Rooter is passed out in the recliner. He’s slumped over to his right with his mouth hanging open. I check the clock. I’ve been asleep for over an hour and never even heard him come in. The poor guy must be exhausted. He’s only averaged four hours of sleep a night. By the time I get home from work and we talk for a little while, he doesn’t fall asleep until around two in the morning. Then he has to turn around and get up at six o’clock to get to the shop.
When Rooter is asleep, he’s completely adorable. His face is relaxed and sweet. I yearn to go over and touch his cheek, but I don’t want to wake him.
With a severe case of cotton mouth, I’m in dire need of water. I stand and tiptoe toward the kitchen, but the moment I walk by the chair the damn wood floor creaks and wakes him up.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbles with sleepy eyes and straightens up in the chair.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Go back to sleep.”
He shakes his head and holds his hand out for me. I take it and he draws me onto his lap. “It’s too late to get your car. Molly’s is closed now.”
“I can have Ryan take me to pick it up in the morning.”
He grins mischievously and shakes his head. “You won’t be here in the morning.”
“What?” I ask, curious. “Where will I be?”
Rooter rubs his hands together rapidly. “You and I are going away for a few days.”
My mouth falls open. “But I have to work.”
He shakes his head and smiles. “I already talked to Randy. He’s giving you the next three days off.”
Oh my God. Is he serious?
I lean back trying to process this unexpected information. “What? When did you talk to him?”
“Earlier today. He was totally cool with it.”
I raise an eyebrow. Randy is probably the most easy going boss on the planet, but even he has his limits. Giving me three days off with zero notice doesn’t sound like him.
Rooter wraps his arms around me. “Trust me. It’s all good.”
I stare at him, skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Call him. He’ll tell you.”
I reach behind me and retrieve my phone from my back pocket and do just that. Randy confirms that yes, he has given me Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off. He laughs and says that Rooter can be very persuasive. When I ask him what he means by that, he tells me to ask the man with the plan.
“So, Randy says you,” I poke him in the chest playfully, “are very persuasive. Care to tell me a little about that?”
Rooter shrugs. “I convinced a couple of your co-workers to work in your place. Hannah and Emily, I think their names were.”
Randy said he was “persuasive.” He had to have been extremely convincing. Hannah and Emily aren’t my biggest fans. They wouldn’t agree to work for me if I begged them. I know this because I’ve begged them in the past. “Exactly how did you convince them?” I fold my arms across my chest.
Rooter rubs the back of his neck, nervous to tell me. “I’m paying them.”
“
You’re
paying them?” I ask confused. “Why isn’t Randy paying them?”
“He is.” He clears his throat. “I agreed to double their earnings for each night.”
He’s doing what?
“Oh my God, Rooter. You can’t do that. They could earn as much as four hundred bucks each!”
He shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “No worries, babe. We need this time away together. I don’t care what it costs.”
I laugh nervously. “You’re crazy. I can’t believe you did that.”
Actually, when I think about it, I can. Nothing Rooter does surprises me. I should know this by now.
“Do you remember me telling you there’s very little I wouldn’t do for you?” He squeezes my thigh and nuzzles my neck.
I nod. Of course I remember. But I never expected anything like this; paying two girls—what will likely amount to hundreds of dollars—to work for me so he can take me who knows where to do who knows what. And knowing him it will be something extravagant.
“I’m trying to make things right so we can get back on track,” he says and brings his lips to mine for a gentle, loving kiss. “I never want you to doubt your importance to me. You are priceless.”
I gasp.
Did he really just say that?
This is the Rooter I’m crazy about. The one looking at me as though I am the most prized possession in the entire world. I’ve missed him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” He smacks my ass and chuckles. “Go pack a bag woman. We need to get on the road.”
I’m not sure which I like better, romantic or playful Rooter. Each is equally charming. “We’re leaving tonight?” If I’d known I would’ve done laundry today.
He looks at the clock. “Yep, and we need to get going.”
I start up the stairs to pack and Rooter follows me. “Don’t you need to pack?” I ask.
He cocks his head to the side as if I should already know the answer. “I packed yesterday. All I need to do is load it into the truck.”
“Oh.” Of course he’s packed. “What should I pack? I don’t even know where we’re going.”
“It’s a surprise. All I’ll say is to pack that yellow bikini you were wearing the day we met.” He winks and my heart flutters.
“That doesn’t help much.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He waves in the air nonchalantly. “If you need something when we’re there, we’ll buy it.”
I stare at him with wide eyes. “You are too much.”
“No, I’m not.” He shakes his head and suddenly looks almost sad. “Sophie, there’s no such thing as too much when it comes to you and from here on out, I’m going to prove it.”
Chapter 35
Most Beautiful Thing
After driving north for a little over two hours, a cheerful sign welcomes us to Ambrose, population 3,163. We drive through the “Downtown” which consists of three two story buildings, a tiny post office, a bank, and a diner called Pa’s. Pa’s is crammed with smiling joyous people.
During the drive here, Rooter kept looking at me with a silly, happy grin. He’s so excited about wherever he’s taking us. His hand rests on my thigh rubbing small circles with his thumb. At this moment, I am completely at peace.
Rooter removes his phone from his back pocket and makes a call. He tells whoever is on the other end we’ll be there soon.
Once we’ve made it through downtown, he makes a left at a stop sign onto a gravel road. The road is tree lined with gated driveways leading to houses which are hidden from view. We follow the road for ten minutes until we come to the end and must choose to either turn left or right. In front of us is a mountainous hill, also tree covered. Rooter turns right followed by a quick left to an uphill winding road. When we make it to the top of the hill I see the expanse of Lake Michigan.
The sun hangs low in the sky casting an orange tint on everything. Along the road are extravagant homes with perfectly manicured lawns. I roll down my window and inhale the fresh lake air.
About a quarter mile down the road, Rooter pulls into a brick driveway. Sitting before us is a quaint, yet stunning white cottage style house with red shutters and a wrap-around porch with thick pillars. The evening sun is streaming in from the back windows to the front. We pull to a stop next to a red Mercedes and Rooter kills the engine.
“Welcome home, babe,” he says and I gasp. “For the next three days anyway.”
It suddenly occurs to me why Rooter brought me here. When we first started seeing each other, we had a conversation about dream houses. This house fits my description perfectly.
“We’re staying
here
?”
“Yep,” he leans over and gives me a quick kiss. “Wait until you see the back.”
“You’ve been here?”
He nods eagerly. “I rode up the day before yesterday to check it out.” He opens his door. “Stay here a minute.”
Rooter jogs to the front porch and is met by an older, portly blonde woman. They talk briefly and she hands him a set of keys. He walks her to the truck and helps me out.
“Ella, this is Sophie,” he says with a proud smile. His arm enfolds my waist. “Sophie, this is Ella, the owner of the house.”
I extend my hand to her with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Ella. The house is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She smiles, revealing a crooked incisor. “I hope you have a lovely stay.”
“I’m sure we will,” I tell her.
“I’ll get out of your hair.” She turns to Rooter. “If you need anything, please call me. My phone is on twenty four hours a day.”
Once Ella pulls out of the driveway, we stroll hand in hand to the front porch. After opening the door, he steps aside allowing me to enter first. When I do, I can’t believe my eyes. The place is exquisite with dark wood floors, light furniture, and a high vaulted ceiling. It’s decorated in a lake and nautical theme.
I amble to the oversized white couch and run my fingers over the supple material. It feels every bit as expensive as it looks. In front of the couch is a great, matching ottoman, and on it lies a spread of all different magazines ranging from gossip rags to lakeside living and gardening. On the end table is a lamp and a bowl of black and white rocks. If I was to build my dream home, this would definitely be it. I turn to Rooter and jump up and down.
“I can’t believe you brought me here.”
“You like it?” He makes his way to me with a hopeful expression.
I wrap my arms around his neck. “It’s amazing, Rooter. Thank you.”
“You deserve this, especially after everything…”
I shush him and place my index finger against his lips. “Let’s not talk about any of that.”
I gently draw his face to mine for a kiss. His hands that were resting on my hips snake around my waist and pull me flush against him. His lips tenderly meet mine. First he kisses my top lip and then the bottom, pulling it into his mouth, prompting me to part my lips. I love the taste of his kiss. The way his tongue slowly glides against mine makes me weak. My hands slide into his soft hair and I press my body firmly against his. Both of his hands slide down my back and he grips my ass. The kiss turns into heated passion. He groans huskily and swiftly pulls away. Fire dances in his dark chocolate eyes.
“We need to stop,” he says, breathless.
“No, we don’t.” I pull him back by the waist of his jeans. My finger grazes the skin just above edge of the denim. Feeling wanton, I lick my lips.
I want to taste him.
Rooter flashes his perfect panty dropping grin. “Remember what I said on our first date about anticipation?”
“You’re
not
playing that game with me again.” I tug at his belt.
He chuckles and takes my hand into his. “It’s not a game, babe. I’m not going to put my hands on you again until I know it’s right, and the moment is perfect.”
“Fine, don’t put your hands on me. I’ll put mine on you,” I say and caress his ass with my free hand. He must be trying to kill me.
“You’ll thank me later.”
“I doubt it,” I pout.
Rooter guides me through the living room and the kitchen to a pair of french doors leading to the sprawling backyard. The deck is expansive and is butted up to an in-ground pool and jacuzzi. To the right is a covered outdoor kitchen and dining area. We walk around the pool to the yard, and follow a stone path to a set of long stairs which lead to the beach below.
“We have our own private beach,” he beams, “a boat, and a pair of jet skis.” My mouth hits the ground as he continues. “You once said you wanted to try paddle boarding. There’s two of those as well.”
“Rooter, this is beyond perfect.” I could burst into happy tears at any moment.
“But it gets better,” he smirks.
“I don’t know how it possibly could.”
“Notice how my phone hasn’t rung since we got on the road?”
Actually, yeah, I had noticed, but I didn’t dare mention it for fear of jinxing my good luck. I nod in response.
He pulls a phone from his back pocket and shows it to me. It’s not his usual phone. “This is a burner. Only my mom and pop have the number. I left my phone with them.”
I squeal and throw my arms around his neck. Forget the house, the pool, and boat. Those have nothing on this. I would’ve been happy with him just getting rid of his phone. “Oh my God! Rooter, you do not understand what this means to me.”
“Yeah, I do,” he chuckles at my exuberance and pulls away. He places his callused hands on both sides of my face and stares lovingly into my eyes. “Babe, the next three days are for you and me alone. No world. No distractions. Just the two of us.”
He places a featherlike kiss on my forehead, the tip of my nose, and lastly on my lips. I drape my arms around his waist and hook my fingers through his belt loops. All the tension and stress of the previous week washes away as I stand here gazing into his eyes. He tilts his head to the side and brings his lips to mine once again. His kiss is passionate, yet controlled, and he continues to caress my face as his skillful tongue dances with mine. My hands wander until they find themselves beneath his shirt. They trace the lines of his thick abdominal muscles and his sexy V. Rooter lets out a husky moan and I press my body against his. He’s keeping the kiss slow and controlled, though he’s not fooling me. I can feel his hardness against my belly. He’s every bit as desirous as I am.
He pulls away, his chest heaving, and leans his forehead on mine. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
I shake my head. “No way.”
Rooter kisses the tip of my nose again. “Come on, let’s go see the rest of the house.”
“How about a drink to celebrate,” I suggest once we’re back in the house. A drink sounds good, but the real reason I’m suggesting it is in hopes it will lessen Rooter’s resolve to wait. “I wonder if there’s anything here.”
Rooter winks. “Already got you covered.” He walks to a large wooden cabinet and opens the doors. Inside is every type of booze imaginable, including Jack Daniels, of course.
While he goes outside to get our bags, I make our drinks. Once he’s back, I hand him his glass and hold up mine for a toast. “To the best three days ever.”
“To making things right with my girl. And being a better boyfriend.” After taking a sip, Rooter holds his hand out to me. “There’s more to see.”
He guides me through the rest of the house which is every bit as impressive as the living room and kitchen. He shows me a bedroom, a bathroom, movie room, and a billiards room before taking me to the master suite. We come to a stop in front of a pair of closed double doors. Rooter turns the handle and motions for me to step inside.
Simply stated, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. There are floor to ceiling windows galore. The wood floor in this room differs from the rest of the house. It’s a deep brown, but it’s shiny enough I can see my reflection in it. There’s a massive wood burning fireplace with wood to burn. To the right, in front of the king size bed is a flat screen television built into the wall with speakers for surround sound, and a built in book shelf. On the far side of the room, in front of the windows sits a plush, light gray sofa. All the wood in the room is dark and the furnishings light.
I set my drink on the bookshelf and throw myself onto the bed. When I do, I land on what I can only describe as a silken cloud. Rooter laughs and does the same, landing right next to me. He takes my hand and places a kiss on the palm.
“This is perfect.” I turn to face him. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s not even close to the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says and climbs on top of me.
Rooter hovers over me and straddles my legs. I’d much rather he was between them. Images of our make-out sessions flash in my mind. God how I want to feel him between my legs, pressing himself into me over and over again until I’m left screaming his name. I want to feel his tongue on my skin and his fingers… My clit throbs at the thought.
“I want you,” I murmur.
Rooter’s mouth devours mine and just when I think he might give in to my request, he abruptly ends the kiss and rolls off of me. When I stick my out my bottom lip and pout, he chuckles and holds his hand out for me to take.
“How about a swim?” He suggests.
A swim? That’s the last thing I want to do right now. All I want to do is rip his clothes off and touch, and lick, and play with every single centimeter of his rock hard body until the sun comes up.
“How about we stay right here,” I pat the bed, “and play I’ll show you mine?”
Rooter swallows. His resolve is so very thin. He shakes his head. “Not tonight, babe.”
“Are you sure? I’m wearing that black and red bra and panty set you like so much,” I tease.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “You’re killing me,” he groans.
“You know you want to.” I bat my eyelashes and point at his growing bulge. “I can see how much you want to.”
“Yes, I do. And we will. But not tonight.” He takes my hand and pulls me upward. “Let’s swim.”