Trust Me: A Roommates To Lovers Romance Novel (Free Book 2)

by Grahame Claire

  * * *

  Once everyone had settled in around the table, Mr. Dixon looked at his three children.

  “I see I wasn’t invited strictly for my dazzling company,” he said, though a line of worry creased his forehead.

  “Dad—”

  “That’s exactly why you’re here.” Holt cut off Andrew and discreetly dug into Marlow’s thigh under the table.

  They both appeared caught off guard, but Marlow covered quickly. “We’re trying to work things out.” She touched Holt’s arm, genuine remorse in her eyes.

  “I figured if everyone was coming over for dinner, it wouldn’t be right to exclude my sister just because we got into a little argument.” Holt bumped shoulders with her and flashed a disarming grin.

  Mr. Dixon appeared uncertain, but hope beat out his skepticism. “I’m glad to see you two working past your differences.”

  “I didn’t even have to referee,” Andrew said, pointing his fork at his siblings.

  What was happening? I thought we were here to deliver the bad news. In the last thirty seconds, we’d made an abrupt U-turn from that plan.

  Holt nudged my hand. “You went to all this trouble to make dinner and now you’re not going to eat?”

  I glanced at my untouched plate. “I was letting you go first. You know, in case something happened.”

  “You trying to get rid of me, Easy?”

  “Maybe. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a new roommate.”

  “You can’t replace me.”

  “Looks like the living arrangements are working out.” Marlow slugged back a swallow of wine as she eyed Holt and me.

  “Better than I imagined.” Holt threw his arm around my shoulders.

  “You didn’t think it would?” I wriggled out of his grasp.

  “I sure as hell didn’t.” Andrew pointed at his brother. “I’ve lived with the guy.”

  “Just because he’s a slob doesn’t make him a bad roommate,” Marlow argued.

  “I’m not a slob,” Holt protested. “Tell them I’m not.”

  His eyes bored into me.

  “Not a slob, just . . . untidy.” I winked at him, and he scowled.

  Marlow snorted. “She really likes you, little brother. You better figure out a way to keep her around.”

  “Don’t look at me for advice on that.” Mr. Dixon carried on eating, oblivious he’d sucked all the air out of the room.

  “Any word from Mrs. Quinn?” Andrew asked, successfully avoiding the topic of their mother.

  Mr. Dixon set down his fork. “No. And I still don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I went by the shelter today.” One corner of Trish’s mouth turned up in sympathy. “She looks miserable.”

  He slumped in his chair. “I did what was best for both of us, so no one gets hurt.”

  Marlow reached across the table, her palm up. Mr. Dixon placed his hand in hers. “You’re already hurt. Tell her you’re sorry and an idiot.”

  He frowned. “How do you know I was an idiot?”

  She shifted uncomfortably before lifting her chin. “You’re a man. Translation: you do stupid things.”

  “I hate it when she’s right,” Andrew grumbled.

  “I miss her.” Mr. Dixon looked down.

  “Dad, if we’d messed up, you’d tell us to apologize.” Andrew reached for Trish’s hand. “You’d also tell us to forgive.”

  “She’s the kindest person I’ve ever known,” I said quietly.

  “Me too.” Mr. Dixon clutched his wine glass.

  “Go talk to her, Dad. A phone call isn’t good enough.” Marlow patted his arm. She had a hard exterior, so this softness caught me unaware.

  “Baker, would you be tremendously offended if I cut this evening short? I’m afraid if I wait, I’ll lose my courage.”

  “Go. Go.” I shooed at him. “We’ll do this again sometime.”

  “I’ll bring dinner,” he promised as he stood.

  We all got up with him.

  “Good luck, Dad.” Andrew shook his hand.

  “Let us know how it goes.” Holt rounded the table and embraced his father.

  “If it gets desperate, use that lady killer wink.” Marlow demonstrated for effect, and he laughed.

  “I love you all.” He blew a kiss as he left.

  “I hope they work it out,” I said as I grabbed my glass off the table.

  “Ten bucks says he calls when he’s outside for a pep talk.”

  Holt high-fived his brother. “Make it twenty.”

  I refilled everyone’s wine and grabbed Holt another beer.

  “Why’d you change your mind?” Marlow pinned him with a stare.

  “Because I couldn’t let him down.” Holt picked at the label on his old beer.

  “How long have you been talking to her?”

  I shivered at the menace in his tone.

  Marlow glared at him. “She’s my mother. There’s no law that says I can’t speak to her,” she said petulantly.

  “Like hell there isn’t,” Andrew shouted. “She left us. Did you forget that?”

  “No, I didn’t forget. I’m just not sure I care anymore.”

  Holt’s lips parted like she’d punched him in the stomach. “Did she tell you she left because of me?” His voice was deathly quiet.

  Marlow paled. “Holt. I told you, I shouldn’t have said that. I was lashing out. It was an awful thing to say.”

  “Answer the question.”

  She popped up from her chair and took her wine with her over to the window.

  “What the hell? Dad gave up everything to take care of us. What if he’d abandoned us too?” Andrew followed her. “How could you betray him like this? Betray all of us?”

  Trish glanced at me, her expression helpless, just as I felt.

  “I didn’t betray any of you,” she yelled.

  Ella shrieked back, a series of sharp wails in succession. Trish was halfway out of her seat when I motioned for her to sit.

  I lifted Ella from the carrier and bounced her until she quieted.

  “What was I supposed to do? Refuse to give her a chance?” Marlow stared out the window.

  “Yes. That’s exactly what you should have done.” Andrew folded his arms across his chest.

  “You still haven’t answered my question.” Holt’s voice had a quality I’d never heard. There wasn’t only hurt and betrayal, it was as if he’d turned off the part of him that felt.

  “It doesn’t matter—”

  “It does to me.” He slammed his bottle on the table.

  “Yes. She said she left because of you, okay?” The second the words ripped from her mouth, Marlow covered it with her hands.

  Wordless, Holt stood. He grabbed his keys off the counter.

  “Holt. Wait up, man.” Andrew streaked across the room, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  I jumped when the door slammed. Stared at it as Andrew followed after him.

  Slowly, I pivoted toward Marlow. With measured steps, I crossed the distance between us.

  “I understand arguments. Saying things you don’t mean. But that—” I pointed toward the door, my hand trembling with rage. “What you just did. I will never, ever understand. And if you can’t be more respectful, you aren’t welcome in this house.”

  I turned away, unable to look at her a second more. Blake wailed, no doubt affected by the tension. Ella screamed in response, and I passed her off to Trish before I doubled back.

  I poked my finger into Marlow’s shoulder. “He loves you. He’s been there for you his whole life. And you think she’s worth more?” I threw my hands in the air. “What you’ve got is rare. And you’re a damn fool not to see it.”

  I’d almost reached the kitchen when her words stopped me in my tracks. “You don’t know anything. About me. About Holt. About Celia. About Cameron. About my family. So don’t you dare judge me.”

  “I don’t have to know everything. I feel it. If I had what you do, I’d never throw it away.” I tried
and failed miserably to keep my anger in check. “And Marlow, an apology isn’t going to cut it. Even if Holt forgives you, I don’t know if I ever will.”

  “I don’t give a damn what you think of me. I finally have a mother, and I don’t have to justify that to you or anyone.”

  “I hope she’s enough, because you may have just lost the rest of your family.”

  Marlow sank her teeth into her lower lip and straightened her shoulders. “Thanks for dinner.” She picked up Blake’s carrier and her bag.

  For the second time tonight, the door slammed. Ugly words had flown all over the place, and it was becoming difficult to figure out which ones were meant and which were just lashing out.

  “It keeps getting worse,” Trish said softly.

  “I should’ve gone after him.” I paced between the island and the row of cabinets.

  “Andrew will make sure he’s okay.”

  “Why did she say that to him? If there was ever a time to lie, that would have been it.”

  “I don’t think she knows how to handle her emotions. Her immediate response is to attack.”

  “Well, it’s a terrible way of dealing with stuff.” I braced my hands on the counter and dropped my chin to my chest. “I don’t know if he’ll get over it.”

  “I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.”

  “How do I fix it?” I willed her to give me an answer I was desperate for.

  “You can’t.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Holt

  “Don’t say a word.”

  The warning didn’t stop my brother from following me into the stairwell. I jogged down each flight on autopilot.

  My worst fears were confirmed. I’d ruined my family’s life. She’d left because of me.

  “Will you slow down? I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  I ignored my brother, who wasn’t even out of breath.

  “Marlow . . . hell, I’m not even going to make excuses for her.”

  I stopped on the landing and whipped around. “You don’t have to. She pretty much said it all.”

  I’d nearly made it to the next step when his hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Ask me who I’d rather have in my life.”

  I flinched, refusing to look at him.

  “Ask Dad if he’d choose you or her.”

  “I’m not getting into hypotheticals.”

  “We’re not. If having a mother meant losing you, she wouldn’t be worth it.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” I whispered.

  “I wouldn’t dare.” He shook my shoulders.

  “I drove you crazy when we were kids.”

  “And I wouldn’t trade a single second of it for anything. Especially not her.” He pulled me in for a hug, but I shrugged him off.

  “I messed up everything for Dad. If it weren’t for me, she would have stayed with him.”

  “Do you really believe that? How are you so sure she’d not feeding Marlow lies? Because I'm not. She was cheating on him well before you came along.” Bitterness etched his face.

  “They might’ve worked it out. You and Marlow—”

  “We had you and Dad. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

  I shoved at his chest. “You never wished we had a mother? Promised whoever’s up there that you’d be good if she’d just come back.” I waved toward the ceiling.

  “Yeah. I did. But somewhere along the way, I realized if she didn’t want us, I didn’t want her.” He pressed his lips together in a flat line.

  “You hate her. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had to live your whole life with that.”

  “How I feel toward her has nothing to do with you. She chose to leave. And she would have whether you came along or not.” Andrew scowled. “The sooner you see that, the better off you’ll be.”

  “She wants back into your life. You can have that. I promise I won’t get in the way.”

  His expression was resolute. “I don’t want anything to do with her. Ever.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “There is no apology or excuse she can make that would change my mind. I won’t let her poison Trish and Ella with whatever game she’s playing. Look at what she’s doing to Marlow. She’s not going to take you or Dad or Marlow away from me either.”

  I leaned against the wall and hung my head. “If Marlow wants a relationship with her, I don’t blame her. Hell, I’ve spent most of my life wishing for the same thing.” I looked at Andrew. “It’s the fact that she’s been sneaking around. I’m starting to think it’s been for years.”

  He rested against the railing opposite me. “I honestly have no idea what to do. But you made the right call tonight about Dad. He was happier than I’ve seen him in quite some time.”

  “I couldn’t do it. We were all together, and he thought—hoped—it was because we wanted to be. Nothing else.” I gripped the handrail. “I couldn’t take that from him.”

  “Maybe if he and Mrs. Quinn get back together, she’ll soften the blow about Marlow.”

  “Maybe.”

  I hoped so. Dad deserved happiness. And more. Not betrayal. Was Andrew just saying all that about our family to make me feel better? Did he really feel that way about me? I felt like an all-round failure. Should I have stayed in Wyoming?

  He lifted his chin at me. “I’m proud of you. About the garage.”

  “I bought the building. Haven’t done anything yet.”

  “You will.”

  I looked at him in surprise, and he nodded. “I wasn’t just saying things for you to feel better. You’re my brother. You made our family complete.”

  “I’ll need time to believe that, but thanks. And I’m sorry for running out like I did. No idea where I was going, but couldn’t be in the same room as a sister who’d turn her back on me so easily.”

  “I’m not sure why she did that. Don’t listen to those words.”

  “Thanks. For coming after me.” I shrugged.

  “Anytime, brother.”

  “You need to get back to your girl.” I began the ascent back up the stairs.

  “Trish understands.”

  I wanted that. Someone who understood what I needed the way I understood them.

  Easy.

  I stumbled at the realization I had that.

  Andrew’s hand steadied me. He grinned. “You finally figuring out you’ve got yourself more than just a beautiful roommate?”

  I pointed at him. “Don’t insult her with such a menial term.”

  I picked up the pace, his footsteps right behind me.

  “What did I say?” He sounded perplexed.

  I smirked just before I opened the stairwell door. “Better not let her hear you call her a roommate.”

  * * *

  “Thanks.” I spoke into Baker’s hair as I pulled her onto my chest. “For being there.”

  She touched my face in the darkness, her fingers sure. “I might have done a little more damage,” she confessed.

  “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “I told your sister she was a fool and not welcome here if she’s going to treat you that way.”

  I lifted Baker’s head to look at her despite I couldn’t see in the darkness. “You did?”

  “I mean it. She can’t come here and hurt you. I won’t put up with that.”

  I can’t breathe.

  This woman . . . she was so much more than I deserved.

  “Easy.”

  “She was pretty pissed off when she left, but I was pissed off too.” Her breath was harsh against my chest.

  “The Man” by The Killers blasted from the nightstand.

  “It’s my dad,” I said, blindly reaching for it.

  “That’s your ringtone for him?” Amusement wove through her voice.

  “It’s apt. Hey, Dad,” I kept an arm around Baker while I pressed the speaker button. “There are ladies present.”

  “Here too.”

  Baker popped up, her eyes wide in the glo
w from the phone.

  “You mean?”

  “She’s speaking to me again.”

  “That’s fantastic news.” I grinned at Baker. “Tell Mrs. Quinn to go easy on you.”

  “Not a chance,” she said.

  “Oh. Hi.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Quinn,” Baker said, propping her chin on my chest. “Glad you two worked things out.”

  “I don’t know that they’re all worked out per se, but we’re talking through it.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Dad said, wonder in his voice.

  “If you’d picked up the phone, we could have done this a lot sooner,” Mrs. Quinn said.

  I snorted. “Think there’s a chance you’ll forgive him?”

  Dad coughed. “You don’t have to answer that, love.”

  “We’ll see.” Mrs. Quinn was a careful woman. I liked that about her. For my dad’s sake. He deserved someone he could trust.

  “Hope we didn’t wake you, but I—”

  “Was excited,” I finished for him.

  Baker snickered. “Will you be at Sunday dinner, Mrs. Quinn?”

  “I haven’t been invited yet.”

  “I just did.”

  “I’ll check my schedule.”

  * * *

  “At least something went right,” Baker said when we’d ended the call.

  “I can’t take that from him. Not right now.”

  She snuggled into me. “You did the right thing.”

  “Don’t make me out as someone noble. I didn’t tell him mostly because I’m a coward.”

  “Not from what I’ve seen.” She scraped her nails down my chest.

  I shivered. “If you want to distract me, I’m game.” I skimmed my fingers up her spine.

  “I’m trying to tell you I support you. Whatever you want to do,” she huffed as her hands drifted lower.

  “I’m glad to hear that. Because right now, I want to make you come.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Baker

  “The three year anniversary of a shooting spree that left twelve people—”

  I switched off the TV and tossed the remote on the sofa.

  “Not a fan of morning television?” Holt stared at me, coffee in hand.