“Hey,” I say as I walk into the house but get no response, likely due to Tom Cochrane’s “Life is a Highway” blasting loudly throughout my home. Dumping my keys on the hall table, I move to the living room and call out again stopping when I come across Alex shaking her shoulders and hips in time to the music as she stirs something that smells delicious on the stovetop. I guess I did tell her to make herself at home.
Chuckling to myself, I decide to leave her to it as I head down the hallway still undetected, figuring I might as well clean up before trying to say hello again. It’s probably the first time in the week since she’s moved in that we’ve both been home and awake at the same time with her twenty-four on/forty-eight off schedule, and me picking up extra shifts too.
Marco had text me yesterday to tell me she’d settled in to the firehouse just fine, telling me she’d even managed to render Scotty speechless more than once.
Deciding to clean up before thinking about what to do for dinner, I grab a quick, hot shower, then wrap a towel around my hips and walk through to my bedroom. I shut the bathroom door behind me, noticing the house is significantly quieter now that there’s not a rock concert being held in my living room.
Moving toward my closet, I pull out some sweats and a tee along with some boxers, and I lay them on the bed. Just as I unwrap the towel and start drying myself off, my bedroom door slams open and Alex bounds in, waving a rolling pin above her head like it’s Thor’s hammer, and she’s ready to attack.
“Whoa!” I splutter
“I’m calling the cops, mother fu—Gio? Oh, hell. Um—”
I stare flabbergasted at an equally shocked Alex, her weapon arm falling down to her side, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. My heart thumps against my ribs as I try to calm my own breathing, all the while trying to process what the hell just happened.
Her gaze drops . . . then drops again, before jerking up to my face.
“Ah hell,” I curse, one hand moving to cover my junk, the other blindly grabbing at anything on my bed to cover myself up with. To her credit—and my relief— Alex turns around to face the wall, giving me privacy.
“I’m so sorry. In my defense, I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know?” Do I have a third nut I don’t know about? Just to be sure, I move my hand out of the way to make sure everything is as it should be down there.
A soft gasp escapes her, and looking up, I catch Alex’s deer-in-the-headlights look in the mirror facing my bed, the mirror giving her a full-frontal view of my uncovered body—again. Her cheeks turn pink before she drops her gaze to the ground.
“Didn’t know what, Alex?” I ask again as I quickly pull on boxers then my sweats, making sure the important bits are covered before I can inadvertently flash my new roommate with the goods a third time.
“That you were home. I didn’t hear you come in, and I figured you would’ve said hi or something when you did. So when my music stopped and I heard a door shut and then footsteps, my brain went to the worst-case scenario and defaulted into self-preservation mode.”
“With a rolling pin? Don’t you have pepper spray or something in your purse?”
“No. I just have a whistle,” she says before she turns around to face me. “Hold up. Why are we discussing weapons of choice to use when I mistakenly think there’s someone in the house?”
“’Cause you thought I was a home invader, and instead of running out of the house and maybe calling the cops, you ran in here all hot air and bluster, armed with a kitchen utensil. I think this warrants a conversation.”
“Do you have to be shirtless for it? It’s kind of distracting, that’s all.” She waves her hands in front of her, gesturing to my chest.
“Not like you haven’t seen me already, roomie,” I reply, unable to fight my smirk.
She snickers as she lifts her eyes to mine. “I’m sorry.”
“For accosting me with a weapon of pastry creation or copping a look in the mirror?” I ask with a questioning brow. Her lips twitch up and I frown. “What?”
“Get it? Copping a look?” she replies with a giggle.
I roll my eyes and fight a snort at her goofy sense of humor.
“I kind of just went into fight-or-flight mode.” Her shoulders go back and she glares at me. “Besides, you could’ve at least told me you were home.”
“I tried, you were too busy being mid-hip shimmy.”
“Oh,” she mumbles, her shoulders visibly dropping. “I was cooking our first roomies dinner.”
My head jerks back. “That’s a thing?”
She shrugs. “I wanted to say thank you for letting me move in, and since it was the first time we’ve been home at the same time . . .”
Damn.
“Shit. Okay, well if you’re not traumatized from seeing me naked and dinner’s not ruined because you ran in here like a modern-day Wonder Woman, I’d like that.”
She gifts me a wide, genuine smile, and for a moment, I forget that I’m standing there shirtless in a pair of grey sweats and my new roommate has already seen me naked. Because that smile is dangerous and has trouble written all over it.
Remember she’s your roommate, Gio.
She steps forward and holds out her arm to me. “Truce?”
My brows bunch together as I shake her hand. “For what?”
“We’ve only met face-to-face two times, and you’ve already pulled a gun on me, and I’ve stormed in ready to bash you with a rolling pin. I’d say we’re even now.”
“Truce then,” I agree with a nod and a shake of her hand.
Alex steps back and doesn’t hide the full-body perusal she gives me. “Brilliant. Well, not that I’m complaining—because damn, who knew you had that hiding under there?—but growing up, we always ate supper fully dressed.”
I bark out a laugh and shake my head. “I think I can manage that.”
“Awesome. See ya soon, roomie,” she says before turning around and skipping her way out of the room. Stopping in the doorway, she shoots me an amused smirk. “By the way, shrinkage obviously isn’t an issue. Good for you.”
I’m left standing there with my mouth agape and absolutely no comeback.
And it’s not until Tom Petty starts blaring from the kitchen again that I realize I better get moving.
Life is going to be interesting with Alex Maxwell around. But maybe that’s exactly what I need.
“This smells delicious. Thanks for cooking. Unexpected, but not at all unappreciated.”
“You’re welcome, roomie. It’s no hassle when I’m the one who’s been home all day,” she says, beaming from across the dining table at me. “We haven’t talked about splitting cooking or chores or anything, but I wanted to make a good impression, and I thought we could use this dinner to get to know each other a bit.”
I quirk a brow and chuckle. “Accosting me in my bedroom didn’t tell you everything you needed to know?”
She rolls her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “Hey. I was defending myself.”
“From a bathing criminal, and with a deadly kitchen utensil no less,” I remark dryly. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“It won’t happen again. Besides, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed about.”
My head jerks back. “Who said I was embarrassed?”
“Oh. Well, good then. Some men can get quite funny about a woman they’re not sleeping with seeing them naked.”
“Seen a lot of men naked, have you?” I ask, lifting a forkful of the pasta bake to my mouth and tasting the meal for the first time. “Damn. This is good.”
“Firstly, no, I haven’t, but even if I had, it wouldn’t matter. Isn’t the saying ‘it's not the size of the boat, it's the motion of the ocean? Although, what woman wouldn’t choose a superyacht over a dinghy if given the choice.” She winks. “And as for the food, of course it’s good. My mom made sure to teach me how to cook as soon as I could stand on the kitchen stool beside her.”
“She taught you well then.”
“Thank you. Nothing’s worth eating if it’s not made well, and I like that it’s one of the many memories I’ll always have of her, you know?”
“Too true.” I take another mouthful. “Although some nights I’m too tired to cook, so if I’ve run out of meals in the freezer from Mama, takeout is a necessity.”
“For sure. But since I like to cook, how about we split the cleaning jobs, but on my days off, I’ll cook for us—if you’re home, of course.”
“I’m usually home, unless I’m on nights or get called in. So that works.”
She tilts her head, her brows bunching. “You don’t date or anything? I don’t know if I believe that.”
I shake my head. “Not lately. Right now, I’m either working to pay the mortgage or too tired from working. Besides, I’m way past the trawling-clubs-to-pick-up-women stage, and too suspicious to do online dating. Curse of my profession, one might say.”
“I hear you on that. I swear, you hit thirty, and the whole dating scene seems like too much hard work. Whatever happened to serendipitous meetings or just coming across someone during your day-to-day life who takes your fancy?”
I’ve often wondered that myself.
“Anyway, back to cooking,” she continues. “Working the jobs we do, you gotta have good fuel to get through the long shifts. There’s nothing worse than having a cheeseburger sitting in your gut when you get a call-out.”
“Or when you’re running after a suspect.”
“Do you do that often? Run after people?”
“Sometimes. Depends where I’m stationed. For now I’m a training officer with a rookie to assess, so I’m on patrol at the moment.”
“And you like it? Being a cop, I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Didn’t want to be a firey like your brothers?”
I shake my head, putting my cutlery down and picking up my beer. “Nah. Marco and Luca were always destined to do that. I wanted to serve the public though. So after a detective came to my high school for careers day, I went home and talked to my parents. Together, we came up with a plan—college, then straight to the academy. And here I am. “I sip my beer and place my bottle back down. “How about you?”
“I’m legacy. Adam and I just naturally followed each other into the fire academy after college. Then we went straight from there to working under Dad. Now Dad’s getting close to retirement and grooming Adam to take over as fire chief.”
“Is that why you transferred to the CFD?”
“Kind of, but not really. Adam was already my lieutenant, so I didn’t have any issue with working for him. I just wanted to do something different. Make my mark, spread my wings. You know, typical small-town girl stuff.”
“Nothing about you screams small-town anything, Alex. Not from what I’ve seen,” I say quietly. I’m realizing that there are many layers to this woman, and how long it’ll take to uncover them all. But there’s something about her that makes me wanna try.
Silence falls between us, and I feel a sudden need to fill it. “So, how was your first week? Marco’s told me you’ve been handling Scotty and his ‘Scotty-ness’ like a pro.”
Alex snorts. “It’s been really good. The job is still the same, obviously. It’s just on a much bigger scale and with much newer, sometimes fancier equipment to do it with.”
I nod.
“And as for Scotty, he’s quite entertaining when he wants to be. But straight away, he struck me as a people pleaser—you know? Like one of those guys who just want to make everyone happy? They’re harmless, usually hilarious, and once you set boundaries, they’re a lot of fun.”
“Boundaries?” My voice drops low, taking both of us by surprise if Alex’s wide eyes are anything to go by.
“Hold up, Hulk. Cool ya jets. It’s fine. All he did was offer to show me around town.”
“What? Why would he do that?” Scotty may be a decent guy, but he’s also a skirt chaser—or maybe in Alex’s case, the male version of a fire bunny. A fire buck? A badge buddy? How about ‘not on my watch?”
Alex shrugs. “He was just being friendly.”
“I can show you round the city if you want,” I blurt out without thinking.
Her brows shoot sky high as her lips curve up. “That sounds good. Maybe once my stuff has arrived from back home and I’m a little more settled in. You sure?”
I nod. “Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to, Alex.”
“Good then. It’s a date.”
My head jerks and she just snorts.
“You know, like a roomie date. A strictly platonic, get-to-know-your-roommate kind of date. Not a date date.”
I’m chuckling by the time she finishes her lengthy explanation. I lift my beer to my lips and take a drink.
“Anyway. I sorted Scotty out real quick. He might’ve turned a little green around the gills after I invited him to come skydiving with me.”
Choking on my mouthful, I splutter and wheeze as I struggle to swallow the liquid. Alex starts giggling, her eyes dancing with amusement.
“You right there, roomie? I know I’ve seen you naked already, but I might have to draw the line at mouth-to-mouth—well, in the first week anyway,” she says.
Finally recovering, I shake my head at her. Skydiving? Just thinking of that makes me shudder. ”Man, you’re a live one, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been called worse.” Her expression falls just for a second before she schools her features and plasters on a smile, puffing her chest out as she does it. Wonder what that was about? “I like to think of myself as spirited. But I just like living life to its fullest.”
“Like skydiving and motorcycles?”
She grins. “Yep.”
“I bet you kept your parents on their toes growing up.”
“Probably no more than you Rossi brothers. You forget that I’ve met Luca.”
I chuckle at that, because she’s not wrong. “You haven’t met Skye or Valentina yet. By themselves, those three are manageable. Get them together, and it’s every man, woman, and child for themselves.”
She tilts her head. “Where are you in the birth order?”
“Second youngest. First angel child. Marco and I are the more sensible ones out of us kids.”
“I note you said more sensible, not most.”
Without thinking, I wink her way. “Can’t give away all my secrets.”
Her eyes widen then warm as she lifts her wineglass in the air. “Well then, here’s to new roomies.”
I fist my beer bottle and raise it to tap against her drink, deciding to wait until she’s taken a sip before finishing the toast. “And to not seeing each other naked again.”
Alex coughs and splutters this time, and I can’t help but lean back in my chair and grin at her as she narrows her eyes with a smirk.
“Touché, Officer Rossi. Well played,” she says, her eyes full of amusement. “But let it be said: you’re far from hard to look at.”
I laugh quietly and shrug as we return to our meals. I make quick work of mine, because I wasn’t lying when I told her it was good.
When we’re both finished, I stand and gather our empty dinner plates.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she says, throwing her hand out to stop me.
“Mama trained me well. The cook doesn’t clean. So let me do the dishes while you sit back and relax.”
“You better be careful, roomie. I could totally get used to this.”
“Keep cooking meals that good, and I’ll gladly clean up when you do.”
“Is that because of your manners, or because you’re a teeny, tiny bit of a neat freak?” Her lips twitch.
“You noticed that, huh?”
“Dude, every time I’ve come home from the firehouse this week there hasn’t been a single thing to clean, and I’ve lived with three men in my life, and it’s very rare for there to be nothing to pick up.”
“Safe to say, I might be a little bit of a neat freak then.”
She nods. “I’ll keep that in mind—as long as you don’t hold the current state of the kitchen against me.”
My heart stutters a bit—as does my step when I stop to look over at the damage. Boy, is there a mess in there. I tamp down my panic though. Well, I try to. “Okay.” My voice is tight and not at all reassuring, something Alex’s laugh confirms.
She shoots me a sympathetic, albeit amused, look. “As I said, I’ll keep it in mind . . . from now on.”
“Much appreciated.”
“One last question. Did you mean it when you said to make this place my own?”
“Sure. It’s your home too.”
“Awesome. I’ve got stuff being sent from back home that’s arriving soon, and I figured I might go shopping later this week to grab some new things. You know, put a little Alex touch on the place.” Then she shoots me a smile so stunning it probably guarantees she gets her way 99.9 percent of the time. ’Cause it’s definitely working on me. “I think this cohabitation thing is gonna work out just fine, roomie.”
“Me too. It’ll be nice to have a feminine touch around the place,” I say, looking over the living area, which is crisp, clean and rather . . . masculine. I’ve always erred on the side of functional and practical when it came to furnishing the house. Perhaps it could use a warmer touch.
Alex moves from the table to the sofa while I head into the kitchen. With a silent resigned sigh, I step forward and get to work.
She did say she’d keep my ‘neat freak’ nature in mind in future. I guess the least I can do is keep my ‘neat freak’ expectations in check too, right?
I can only hope that the future comes sooner rather than later.