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

the kitchen. I started to follow him, but Bane's hand still rested on my arm. He pulled me back close to his side. I smelled the soft hint of cologne wafting from his neck.

"What is he doing in this house?"

"He needed a place to stay?"

"Are you asking me or are you telling me that he needed a place to stay?"

I nodded. "I'm telling you, of course. I couldn't just leave him homeless."

"Are we going to become the house for all The Market Street Apartment residents?"

"Well, you have to admit that this is a pretty big house, don't you think?"

"That's not the point!" Bane lowered his head to mine, our foreheads nearly touching. "You can't just live with strangers."

"You're right. But it seems like I find myself married to one."

He grunted and his eyes narrowed. His grip tightened.

I jerked my arm out of his grasp. "He needed a place to stay. I can vouch for him. He's not going to murder us in our sleep." I raised my voice enough that Dad could hear me from where he was trying to nonchalantly eavesdrop in the kitchen. "You should probably lock up your valuables, though. Sally likes to take things."

"Excuse me!" He popped the lid on a can of iced tea. "I don't steal things."

I raised my eyebrows. "Exactly what someone who steals things would say."

"This is a bad idea," Bane cut in.

"You're absolutely right," I agreed with him. I glared at Dad.

"Okay, okay. I promise not to steal anything. I just need a place to stay while I look into a...personal matter." His eyes hardened as they landed on me.

With a sigh, Bane stepped around me and went into the kitchen. He pulled open the junk drawer and pulled out the file where he kept track of all the expenses. "All right. Sally, if you're going to live here, you are going to have to help with rent. We've been keeping track of the rent and HOA fees that are owed."

"And who's the head of the HOA?" Dad asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Bane is," I said when I saw Bane's embarrassed look. "He's my own Mr. HOA."

"What are the fees for?"

"The money goes into the HOA fund where we pay for the maintenance of the streets, the pool, and the green space. We also pay for the security guard who makes his rounds here."

"I didn't notice any security guard."

"He only works nights."

Dad nodded. "Good to know HOAs do something useful."

"I don't know if you would call Harold useful," I added.

Bane nodded at me. "Nola's right. Honestly, we like to steer clear of Harold. He takes himself a little too seriously. He'll probably run a background check on you once he meets you."

"Why? Did he do that to you?"

Bane smiled. "No. I'm the HOA president. I don't need a background check, because obviously I have the wellness of the community in mind."

I shifted from foot to foot, trying to ignore the tension in the room.

"What are you really doing here?" Bane asked quietly.

Dad kept the belligerent look plastered on his face. "Just passing the time until I find something. Now, which room is mine?"

I wanted to lay down and cry. Or laugh. Dad was like a bulldozer ruining our perfect roommate and marriage situation.

Only this time, he’d met his match. Bane handled him with diplomatic ease for the rest of the evening.

But the look in Bane’s eyes promised he and I would be having a reckoning the next time we were alone.

I flopped onto my bed, facedown. It had been a long day. Helping a new kid settle in was always emotionally exhausting for everyone involved. Then to come home to Bane with his HOA problems—which still made me laugh—and then my dad making himself at home in his own house. I smiled into my pillow at the thought of naming him Sally. His face had been priceless.

A knock sounded at my bedroom door. There'd been a lot of ominous knocking lately—all from my dad.

"Go away."

"Are you decent?"

Not my dad—Bane.

"What is it?" I flipped my head to the side, so I wasn't talking into my pillow anymore.

"Does your door have a lock on it?"

"Yeah, it's locked right now."

The handle turned, and Bane stepped into the room. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his waist and a cotton t-shirt. He frowned at me as he tested the door handle. "Doesn't feel locked to me."

"Oops, my bad." I turned my face away from him. I was too tired to listen to a lecture about locking doors from Safety-Jo.

"This door doesn't have a lock on it. You said it did."

"I assumed all doors had locks. It wasn't an intentional lie." I groaned. Why did he have to look so good in sweats and a t-shirt? I looked like frumps-ville wearing my oversized sweatshirt and spandex shorts. I looked like something that got tangled up and stretched out in the washer while he looked all suave and charming in those charcoal sweats.

"You can't sleep here tonight." His voice filled the room.

"Excuse me? I'm the one who got us into this house. Maybe I'll kick you out."

"No." He sounded closer. "You can't sleep in a room without a lock. Not with a strange man in the house."

"What about the strange man in my bedroom?" I kept facing the wall away from him, knowing if I looked at him too long, I might start drooling, and that would ruin my chances of pretending platonic roommated-ness was all that I wanted.

"Nola, I don't think I count as a strange man anymore. We're married, after all."

"Hardy-har. I'll see you in the morning, Bane."

Something thumped before he spoke next. "I'm serious, Nola. Something's not right with that Sally guy. I don't care if you know him or not. He's not telling the truth about something, and I don't like thinking of you sleeping on the other side of the house."

"What are you proposing? We become literal roommates?"

"Yes. I want you to move into the master suite. There's a lock