Mr. H.O.A. by Carina Taylor (hot novels to read .txt) 📕

through this mess of a fake marriage? And pretending like we are the owners of this house? I’m homeless."

I tucked my knees into my chest and stared at him. "I guess it depends on the lens you look at life through. Do you see opportunities or obstacles? And you’re not homeless right now. Stop being a Negative Nancy."

A slight smile graced his lips before he sat quietly for a moment. Finally, he turned his head to stare at me. "If we’re going to be married, we’re going to need some simple rules then."

I tucked my chin behind my knees so he couldn't see my smile.  Somehow I wasn’t surprised he’d have rules for a situation like this. "What rules would those be?"

He flopped his head back against the chair and spoke with his eyes closed. "We pay rent."

"What? Are you insane? The owner’s not going to mind." I was not paying my dad rent to live in this house.

Bane frowned at me. "We're not thieves. We are going to pay rent for the time that we live in this house."

It was incredibly annoying and refreshing to stumble across an honorable man. How dare he be so decent? He was going to make me feel guilty even though it wasn't wrong to stay here. Maybe I should tell him...but then he might start treating me differently. I'd rather we start out on an even playing field: knowing nothing about each other.

"By the way, what were their names?"

I coughed loudly, trying my best to cough up a lung, then completely ignored his question. "What’s the next rule?"

"We don’t make a big fuss. We be as forgettable as possible." He drawled slowly.

"That’s okay with me," I agreed.

"Now, another rule..." His voice trailed off.

Silence filled the room as I waited for him to speak.

He never did. He'd fallen asleep.

I folded my glasses and slipped them into their case, then walked over to unfold the leg rest from the recliner for him. When he slept, his face softened, and he lost the pensive look that seemed to be perpetually resting on his face.

I carefully unlaced his shoes and slipped them off of his feet. He grunted but remained asleep. Grabbing the throw blanket, I laid it over top of him. He finally had access to a soft bed, and he was most likely going to spend the night in the recliner.

He would feel less dismal about our situation in a couple of days. And he could start seeing the same opportunities I saw.

My alarm rang at six-thirty. When I sat up, I looked around, trying to remember where I was. One thing was for sure, I was no longer in the run-down, trashy apartment that smelled like mold and was trying to give me cancer.

Instead, I was lying in a soft bed surrounded by eight pillows. Whoever Dad had hired to decorate and furnish his house had done an excellent job. It was tasteful, homey, and welcoming. It felt good to be in the house. Usually, I looked forward to going to work, but the bed was so comfortable I never wanted to leave it.

A clinking from outside my room finally had me shuffling my feet out the door. I stumbled my way into the kitchen where I groped around, searching for the glass cupboard. Finally finding it, I pulled a glass down, filled it with water, and drank it as fast as I could. A little dribbled down my chin thanks to my early morning lack of coordination. I used the hem of my giant t-shirt to dry my face off.

Brushing my wild hair from my face, I turned around to find Bane leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand, looking amused at my expense. His jacket and tie were missing. The top four buttons of his shirt were undone. Despite his relaxed appearance, his eyes were bright and he looked as though he were ready to take on the day.

"Not a morning person?" he asked.

I grunted and made my way over to the coffeepot. I pulled a mug from the hooks on the wall. I swiped a finger in it to check for dust. Everything in the house had been cleaned. Heather—the woman who had been hired to maintain the home—was exceptionally thorough in her cleaning. I was going to have to text her and tell her to stop coming by.

I’d lived in Riverly during my middle school and high school years. Growing up here meant there were a few people I’d known my whole life here. Heather ran a cleaning business in town and worked closely with my father. She routinely cleaned his rentals and homes he was flipping. I also knew she would come check on the house a couple times a month to make sure everything was in order.

Heather could also ruin my secret if she let it slip to Bane who I was.

I poured a cup of coffee then sat down at the bar next to Bane. I pushed the cup away and laid my face against the cool, smooth granite countertop.

"We didn't finish talking about our roommate rules."

"Not my fault," I mumbled. I couldn’t help but think that my whole goal in finding a place was to avoid having a roommate—at least one that wouldn’t kill me. Even though I didn’t know Bane well, I did feel safe around him. We were different, but he was still safe to me.

"True. I'm sorry I fell asleep. But we need to talk about the rules." He looked too serious for that early in the morning. The first conversation of the day shouldn’t be about a set of rules.

I cleared my throat. "First rule of roommate rules, we don't call them that. We're supposed to be married, right?"

He shifted, and the barstool creaked from beneath him.

"And married people don't have ridiculous rules like that. I think we should just wing it."

"Says the woman drooling on the countertop."

I swiped at my face but found nothing. "That wasn't very nice."

He shifted again,