The Other Room (Door Peninsula Passions Book 2)

by Katherine Hastings

  “Now, what about the roof?” He marched past me like a man on a mission and pushed his way out the rickety old screen door. “That needs some work, too,” he noted as it wobbled on its old hinges.

  I followed him out onto the small porch that wrapped around the back of the cabin and overlooked the bay.

  “Jo. I still can’t believe you scored property on the Sister Bay waterfront. This is amazing.” He stopped, leaning his weight onto the railing while he stretched his gaze out to the water lapping at the rocky beach beneath us.

  “Yeah. It’s pretty incredible waking up to this every morning and going to sleep listening to the waves just outside my window every night.”

  “I bet I can put on my waders and fish right out the back door.” Turning toward me, his smile grew. “Incredible.”

  “Yeah, it is.” I stepped to his side, pressing my elbows into the wood while I took a breath and let the view and the sound of the waves calm me from the staggering shock that still lingered inside me over his arrival. When I pressed my weight into it, the railing creaked, the old wood buckling and giving way. I shrieked as I went with it, scrambling to stop myself from going over the edge and tumbling ten feet to the rocks below. Matt snagged me around the waist, pulling me into his arms and away from the ledge.

  “Holy shit! Are you okay, Jo?” he asked, swiping a hand through my hair.

  The gentle touch and the concern brewing in his eyes shook me to the core. The way his arm held me tight against his chest sent feelings through my body that were anything but anger.

  Safe.

  He made me feel safe, just like he had when we were kids. And teenagers. And even adults the way he would toss handsy guys out of the bar when they went too far with me. It was that safety in his presence I’d lost when he’d betrayed Jake. That trust. He’d stolen that from me, and I missed it. I missed the feeling of having complete faith in him, complete faith that he was the kind of stand-up guy you could rely on no matter what.

  Yet here I was, plucked from the clutches of danger and suspended in his embrace. Memories assaulted me in waves. It felt like the same embrace of the Matt who’d caught me before I fell off the back of the four-wheeler when we were fifteen. The same arms that had carried me back from the rock quarry when I’d sprained my ankle chasing him around in a game of tag on my eighth birthday. The same hands that had pressed into the exact same spot on my lower back when he spun me around the dance floor at prom after Jimmy Hayes stood me up. It was Matt who had appeared at my house like a savior after he heard the news Jimmy had ditched me for Lacy. When I’d opened the door, it was him who stood there grinning and holding a corsage he made from wildflowers he’d picked on his drive over to rescue me from high school humiliation.

  While I pressed up against him and his arms tightened around me, for a moment I forgot the hurt and the anger still raging inside me. For a moment, time stood still, and I was with that Matt again.

  “Yeah. I, um, I’m fine.” I forced myself out of his grip, struggling to suppress the emotions the brief encounter unleashed inside me. “Wow. I almost fell.”

  “Add a new railing to my list of house projects.” Blowing out a breath, he scrubbed a hand down his face. “You seriously almost went over.”

  Peering over the now exposed edge of my porch down to the remnants of the railing scattered about the rocks below, I shook my head. “That was close.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  His hand settled on my shoulder, heat still searing through my robe and I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for the save.”

  “See? You’re lucky I’m moving in. If I hadn’t been here when that happened, we’d be scraping you out of the stones!”

  Turning back to catch his grin caused me to cringe. Staying mad at Matt was hard enough when I could avoid him. Staying mad at Matt when he could assault me with his charm every hour of the day was going to prove more difficult than keeping up with all those drink orders last night.

  Petunia’s hoarse meow shook me back to my senses, and we both turned to see her standing in the doorway.

  “What the hell is that?” Matt breathed, scrunching his brow.

  “My cat. Petunia.”

  “That is not a cat.” He jutted a finger at her, and she growled. Matt stepped back and cast a sideways glance in my direction. “That is a gremlin. A hideous, terrifying gremlin.”

  “She’s just cranky because I haven’t given her breakfast yet. Well, actually, who am I kidding? She’s always cranky.”

  “Why does it look like that?” He choked on his laughter. “What’s wrong with it?”

  I looked down at Petunia who only glared back up at me. Admittedly, she wasn’t the most affectionate cat in the world, and certainly not the most beautiful, but her odd looks had grown on me. “Petunia here has had a rough life.” I stepped back into the house and grabbed the bag of cat food. “When I moved in here a few months ago, she was living under the porch. Over a few weeks, I coaxed her out with food and eventually she started to come near me.” When I poured the food in her dish, she trotted over and started eating.

  “Where are its ears?” Matt covered his mouth, but it didn’t hide the smile he fought to suppress.

  “Well, when I found her, she’d been an outside cat her whole life. I didn’t want a cat, you know, because I’m a dog person.” I shrugged, and he nodded, knowing full well I wasn’t a cat lover. “But I didn’t want to leave her alone, so I got her friendly enough with me I could get her into a kennel, and I took her to the humane society. They gave her an exam, and they said her ears had frozen off from frost bite. Most of her tail, too.” I pointed to the odd stub she flicked while she enjoyed her morsels. “And the patches of missing hair are some kind of kitty alopecia. She doesn’t have mites or fungus or anything, they checked, so you don’t need to worry about that. Nothing contagious.”

  “Wow. I see.” He chuckled. “Good to know. Because it certainly looks like it could bring on the start of the plague or something. So, if you took it to the humane society, how the hell did it end up back here?”

  “She,” I corrected, “turned out to not exactly be adoptable. They tried for a few days, but she scared everyone with the way she looks. And she’s not exactly an affectionate cat with most people. In fact, she attacked several of the workers.”

  “Jesus,” he whispered.

  “So, they called and told me they would have to put her down or release her as a barn cat since no one would ever adopt her. I couldn’t have that, and she seemed to get on with me okay, so I drove back down and picked her up. She’s been with me ever since.”

  “I... I just... wow.” Shaking his head, he exhaled a deep breath. “That is the ugliest cat I have ever seen in my life.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” I shrugged. “I think she’s cute now.”

  Petunia looked up at us, and another low growl forced Matt to take a step back.

  “Just don’t make eye contact with her. Or touch her. Or get too close when she’s sleeping. Actually, just don’t get too close at all.”

  “Is that all?” He laughed with a touch of fear. “There isn’t a lot of room in this cabin to avoid her.”

  “Just stay out of her way and you’ll get on just fine. She and I are buds now. She’s even started sleeping in my bed.”

  “I’m scared for you, Jo. It might try to kill you in your sleep.”

  “She won’t hurt me. We’re kind of the same. A little rough around the edges, picky about who we let near us, and absolutely lethal if you piss us off.” Waggling my eyebrows, I gave Petunia an appreciative smile. Not many people got her, but then again, not many people got me either. “We’re both an acquired taste. She loves me now.”

  As if on cue, Petunia hissed at Matt and he crossed his arms.

  “Not so much you, but who can blame her,” I jibed.

  “Ouch.”

  “Just stay out of her way. And mine, too.” I pointed a finger at him. “Cabin rules. Don’t wake me up. Don�
��t leave your shit laying around. Don’t talk to me unless you have a question about redoing the cabin. Don’t invite anyone over. Don’t leave dishes in the sink. Don’t eat my food.”

  “Anything I can do.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “Yep. You can try not to piss me off.”

  Lifting his hand to his head, he gave me a salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Oh. And don’t leave the toilet seat up. I don’t want to go ass diving in the middle of the night.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. Grew up with three sisters, remember? They’d burn me alive for that transgression.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.”

  We stood in a silent stand-off. So many emotions swirled inside of me while I tried to process this turn of events, and the fact that Matt would no longer be a person I avoided at all costs, but instead would be a fixture in my home and my life. This set-up, us living together, was once something I would have considered a dream come true, but now I just hoped I hadn’t turned my happy life into a living nightmare.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MATT

  The soft waves lapped at the shore, and I picked up a smooth white rock and flicked my wrist, watching it skip across the water before disappearing into the bay. Glancing back at the cabin, I wondered if Jo was awake yet. Not wanting to start off our first morning on the wrong foot by waking her up too early after she’d gotten in late from bartending, I’d kept myself scarce and spent the morning doing a little fishing off the Sister Bay dock and enjoying the serenity of her backyard on the water. My presence here already had her riled enough, and I didn’t need to give her any ammo to toss me out on my ass.

  After I’d done what I’d done, fallen for Nikki’s charms and toppled into bed with her like a dumbass, my entire world had tipped upside down. Not only had Nikki bolted from town when word got out and left me to deal with the aftermath alone, but I’d been a pariah. A castaway from our little Baileys Harbor society left to slink around the shadows, bolting out from beneath one scornful gaze after another. A town that once treated me like a favorite son quickly closed ranks around Jake and left me on the outside... a place I deserved to be. But after Jake and I rekindled our friendship, one by one the snarls and disappointed headshaking stopped when I entered a room. One by one they followed suit and forgave me, just like Jake had. And now, a little over a year later they’d all forgiven me... all but one.

  Jo.

  Well, actually two. I still hadn’t forgiven myself.

  But it was the hatred that darkened Jo’s chocolate eyes when she looked at me that hurt the worst. Those same eyes that used to smile when we were together now narrowed any time they drifted in my direction. Whenever her glare clapped onto me, it felt like my soul ripped open a little bit more. The looks from Jo weren’t just disappointment like they’d been from the rest of the town. Hatred lurked in the depths of her eyes. True hatred. And it killed me that I couldn’t turn the light back on in those eyes that used to shine so bright.

  I’d attempted to beg her forgiveness more times than I could count, but one thing I knew for sure. Jo wasn’t one to easily be swayed by a sob story. And as one of the most loyal people I’d ever known, nor was she one to forgive disloyalty. And my epic display of disloyal behavior had stripped away all the years of good I’d done. All the years of being a supportive friend, a shoulder to cry on, and her biggest cheerleader. With one whiskey-fueled bad decision I’d shattered the man she had always thought me to be. And I’d shattered my own confidence in who I was at my core.

  I was Matt. The friend. The brother. The one you could count on to swim you a paddle when you were up Shit Creek without one. But after years of thinking I was in love with Nikki, years of battling the feelings I had for my best friend’s girl and fighting to be happy for him, I’d caved when her attentions had turned to me that night. And it wasn’t the first time they had. I’d never told Jake about the times she’d tried to seduce me in the past... the times I’d been strong enough to resist her. To put my best friend first. But that night, that one night, I’d succumbed to my desires when she’d pressed her lips to mine, and it was a moment I would regret for the rest of my life. And now Jo might never forgive me for my moment of weakness.

  Last night when I’d gotten the idea to crash in her spare bedroom, it wasn’t just that I wanted a room to stay in that made me push her harder during the last round of bar dice. It was that I wanted a chance to be near her. To force her to see me as the same Matt she’d always known... the one she thought no longer existed. The Matt I knew still was underneath the shame of my betrayal.

  Looking at my phone, I checked the time. Ten o’clock. She should be getting up soon. Pushing up from the rocky seat, I brushed off my shorts and grabbed the Piggly Wiggly bag and tray of coffees from the ground. When I got to the cabin, I cringed when the door creaked as I opened it. I heard Jo shift in her bed, and then the low growl of that nasty cat. Damn hideous thing creeped me out so much I’d pushed a chair in front of my door before I went to sleep last night.

  Tiptoeing across the tattered wooden floor, I carefully set the coffee and groceries on the counter, flinching when the paper bag crumpled. I glanced to her door, but it didn’t open, and an irate Jo didn’t burst through the door, storming out here to give me a lecture about the cabin rules. I’d already gotten several of those during our brief encounters when I moved in yesterday. She’d avoided me most of the day, then went off to work last night, but the few times we’d crossed paths hadn’t been any more pleasant than that time I got a fishing lure stuck in my cheek.

  Torn between wanting to surprise her with breakfast and not wanting to wake her up with the sounds of my cooking, I decided to wait until she was conscious before preparing her favorite meal. I shuffled over to the ripped-up couch and settled into the old cushion that no longer offered any support. My weight continued sinking until I dipped low enough I didn’t know if I’d ever get out.

  Buy Jo a new couch. Check.

  Another item on my growing to-do list. And one I hoped would help show her I was still me. Still the guy she could count on no matter what.

  A stack of books was propped on the end table, and I saw two of our high school yearbooks at the bottom of the pile. I pulled out the one from our freshman year, smiling as memories flooded into me while I flipped through the pages. Halfway through I saw an old picture of Jo, Jake, and I as kids. Jo was riding me piggy-back, and Jake had me in a headlock. A typical day for the Three Amigos. When I looked at the picture, I remembered that day vividly... Andrea’s fourteenth birthday party. The swallow I forced down my throat burned as an ache spread through my chest. It was the day I’d given up on my lifetime of unrequited love for Jo. A childhood crush that I had realized would never turn into reciprocated feelings since Jo only looked at me like a brother. It was the day I’d finally forced myself to accept that fact and move on. Something I often needed to remind myself of when she stepped into a room. Jo was just a friend... a best friend. Or at least she used to be.

  “What are you doing?” Jo’s voice startled me, and I slammed the yearbook shut.

  “Good morning, sunshine!” I chimed, turning to see her standing in the doorway of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes. The sight of her startled me. She looked softer in her light pink pajamas. Sweet. Approachable. A vast difference from the tough-as-nails chic who usually sported a black leather coat and tackled the world head-on. The woman who could send a grown man twice her size high tailing it for his life if he crossed her. Today she looked less lethal, those intense brown eyes heavy from sleep instead of penetrating the world around her with their intensity. Her features, while feminine and breathtakingly beautiful, were often masked by the attitude she wore with such pride. An attitude that warned anyone in her vicinity that messing with her would end badly. But not today. Today she looked soft and vulnerable in her little pink pajamas.

  She ignored my chipper greeting. “Why do you have that?”

  I glanced down a
t the yearbook then set it back on the table. “Just trying to keep myself occupied so I didn’t wake you up. Reminiscing to a time when you didn’t hate my guts.” Flashing her my sweetest smile, I waited for her to return it. Instead her face only tightened.

  “Don’t touch my shit. Cabin rule.”

  Without another word she stumbled past me toward the bathroom. Tucking up my legs to get them out of the way, I tried to fight the pain searing into my gut from her callous words.

  It will take time, I reminded myself.

  With the slamming of the door I exhaled a deep breath and struggled to climb out of the sinkhole this couch had sucked me into. When I’d managed to free myself, I marched into the kitchen with my newfound purpose of winning Jo’s affection back. I dug out the frying pan and pulled out the bacon and eggs I’d grabbed during my quick stop at the grocery store this morning. When I dropped the bacon into the pan, it sizzled and crackled. The smell I knew she adored, and wanted to turn into a perfume, wafted up and filled the tiny cabin.

  The door cracked open and her head popped out, her smooth dark hair knotted in a messy bun on top of her head, and a toothbrush clamped between her teeth.

  “Is that bacon?” she asked, the words jumbled as she talked around her toothbrush.

  Grinning, I pushed the bacon around in the pan. “Bacon and eggs. Your favorite. Oh!” I skipped to my left and grabbed a coffee from the tray. “And coffee. Regular, one cream, one sugar, just how you like it. I grabbed it from Base Camp on my way back from the grocery store.”

  Her face twisted while she bit down on her toothbrush, a contemplative narrowing of her eyes took in all the offerings I had for her. Without another word, she disappeared back into the bathroom and slammed the door.