All work and no play make Ethan Vaughn a very sad and lonely lawyer. Not to mention horny. He really shouldn’t have agreed to help his best friend’s wife’s bestie with her imbroglio. Now she’s remanded on bail––and living in his house. The woman is a walking, talking category five hurricane. And considering his track record with women, he needs to stay as far away from this one as possible. Problem is, he just can’t seem to make himself.
“I want to know exactly what this is going to cost me because if it takes me holding up a bank, I’m paying back every cent.”
“I think we’ve established that you’re not cut out for a life of crime. Besides, Calvin’s already paid up.”
“Then I’ll pay Calvin back. I want the exact amount.”
I get a long-suffering sigh, coupled with a raised eyebrow. “The amount is zero.”
The stretch of silence that follows leaves me drained, whatever energy I have left leeching out of me. What’s the point of fighting it? Really? It doesn’t make a lick of difference anyway. Way too often it seems my life is on a fixed track headed nowhere I want to go.
I steal another glance at my new room mate. He did nothing to deserve this. This is nobody’s fault but my own. Time to embrace the fact that I will be at this man’s mercy for the next three months. And God knows I could’ve done a heck of a lot worse than living with Fancy McButterpants in what is sure to be a fancy apartment. Best to start off on the right foot.
“Look, Vaughn, I get that I’m not your favorite person. I don’t know what kind of favor you owe Cal that would require you to volunteer as tribute, but here we are, stuck with each other for the next…what is it that you said?” Arching a dramatic eyebrow, I add, “The next three months. I think we can manage to stay out of each other’s hair for three months.” I make a show of staring at his perfectly styled dark brown hair. “Even though you use a ghastly amount of hair product.”
At this, he frowns and squirms in his seat. “I do not use hair product.”
“Agree to disagree. Anywho, this should be easy enough. You work days. I work nights. We’ll hardly see each other. Absolutely no danger of anyone accidental humping.”
His reaction comes swiftly. His head whips around, guilt and surprise splashed across his supermodel worthy features. Finally––a genuine show of emotion. Score one for team Jones. Satisfaction turns the corners of my mouth up. No doubt about it, my life is a dumpster fire if this is the highlight of my evening.
His attention slides back to the road ahead. Three long minutes of heavy silence follow. “I didn’t mean––”
“Easy there, counselor.” The last thing I want is a long, awkward apology from him. “No harm, no foul. Hurting my feelings would require that I care what you, or any man thinks, and I assure you I don’t. Quite frankly, after tonight, I am this close to moving to the Isle of Lesbos. All I need is your legal expertise and a bed to sleep in for the next three months.”
He blows out a deep breath, his body relaxing while his hands tighten on the burl wood steering wheel. “You have it.”
I turn in my seat to face him. I want him to see how sincere I am when I say this, “And I appreciate it. I know this sucks for you, too.”
Holding my steady gaze, he gives me a curt nod.
“I think we’ve established that you’re not cut out for a life of crime. Besides, Calvin’s already paid up.”
“Then I’ll pay Calvin back. I want the exact amount.”
I get a long-suffering sigh, coupled with a raised eyebrow. “The amount is zero.”
The stretch of silence that follows leaves me drained, whatever energy I have left leeching out of me. What’s the point of fighting it? Really? It doesn’t make a lick of difference anyway. Way too often it seems my life is on a fixed track headed nowhere I want to go.
I steal another glance at my new room mate. He did nothing to deserve this. This is nobody’s fault but my own. Time to embrace the fact that I will be at this man’s mercy for the next three months. And God knows I could’ve done a heck of a lot worse than living with Fancy McButterpants in what is sure to be a fancy apartment. Best to start off on the right foot.
“Look, Vaughn, I get that I’m not your favorite person. I don’t know what kind of favor you owe Cal that would require you to volunteer as tribute, but here we are, stuck with each other for the next…what is it that you said?” Arching a dramatic eyebrow, I add, “The next three months. I think we can manage to stay out of each other’s hair for three months.” I make a show of staring at his perfectly styled dark brown hair. “Even though you use a ghastly amount of hair product.”
At this, he frowns and squirms in his seat. “I do not use hair product.”
“Agree to disagree. Anywho, this should be easy enough. You work days. I work nights. We’ll hardly see each other. Absolutely no danger of anyone accidental humping.”
His reaction comes swiftly. His head whips around, guilt and surprise splashed across his supermodel worthy features. Finally––a genuine show of emotion. Score one for team Jones. Satisfaction turns the corners of my mouth up. No doubt about it, my life is a dumpster fire if this is the highlight of my evening.
His attention slides back to the road ahead. Three long minutes of heavy silence follow. “I didn’t mean––”
“Easy there, counselor.” The last thing I want is a long, awkward apology from him. “No harm, no foul. Hurting my feelings would require that I care what you, or any man thinks, and I assure you I don’t. Quite frankly, after tonight, I am this close to moving to the Isle of Lesbos. All I need is your legal expertise and a bed to sleep in for the next three months.”
He blows out a deep breath, his body relaxing while his hands tighten on the burl wood steering wheel. “You have it.”
I turn in my seat to face him. I want him to see how sincere I am when I say this, “And I appreciate it. I know this sucks for you, too.”
Holding my steady gaze, he gives me a curt nod.
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