Page 7 of Bed of Roses

I scowl. “The kitchen sink?” He nods. “Why?”

“Likes it, I guess.” He shrugs.

What dude likes an old farmhouse sink? And, if given the chance, why would anyone want to keep something old in favor of something new? The option is there. Derek has a shit-ton of money, so why would we keep it?

“And you’re okay with this?” I ask with disbelief.

He shrugs again. “It adds charm, don’t you think?”

I take several gulps of my beer to wash away the ass-chewing I want to give him. “Sure,” I say instead.

“Great.” He slaps his thigh. “I’ll have a dumpster delivered today.”

I look at him skeptically. “Think you can get old man Greg to get off his ass and drop it off?”

“I’ll go down to his office myself if I have to.” I can see the determination set in his eyes. He’ll find a way, I’m sure of it.

He heads to the door, and I call at his back, “Anything I need to know about this guy?”

A slimy smirk takes over his shrewd lips. “I’d be careful how you talk to Tegan. Sensitive, that one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His smirk widens into a knowing smile. “You’ll see.”

He opens the door and leaves, whistling all the way to his car. I get up and slam the door shut.Fuck this bullshit. This isn’t what I signed up for.

Chapter 3

Tegan Adams

Tori looksat my open suitcase with disgust. It’s sitting on the bed wide open, its contents on full display. She came over for supper and to help me unpack, and now that supper’s over . . . Well, she’s not happy with me.

I press my pointer finger to my chin, waiting for her to spit out what she’s holding back.

“Did you . . . did you just throw everything in here?” She picks up a wadded shirt and turns a frown in my direction. “You didn’t even bother to fold.”

Tori isn’t shaped like me. Where I’m thicker - curvier, as I like to think of it - she’s thin. Her features are more pixie-like; short nose, round eyes, and slender cheekbones, unlike mine, which are more prominent. My jaw is square, my nose longer but not too long, with a smattering of freckles across the bridge. We share the same hair and eye color though: Blonde with blue eyes. I just keep mine past the shoulders while she cuts hers above the collarbone.

I wince and run a hand through my hair, untangling a knot at the ends. “I was in a hurry.”

“More like a mad rush,” she grumbles. “Did you miss me that much?”

I laugh a little, take the shirt from her, and chuck it at her playfully. She catches it, matching my grin with one of her own. It reminds me of our playfulness in college, and my heart warms as all the memories surface. “Of course.”

We were dorm mates at Illinois University, and we both have a pile of student loans to prove it. Tori’s education centered around business while mine focused on medical. I wanted to be a coroner, someone to bring peace to a family by having them know what offed their loved one. It’s a morbid occupation, but at the time, I was excited about it.

I ended up getting my degree, not that it did me any good. There were no job openings in the Chicago area, and I had no money to move to somewhere thatdidhave an opening. My parents were poor, so I couldn’t ask them for the funds either. Plus, the thought of leaving them made my heart hurt. They were both in their early forties when they found out that my mom was carrying me. Their little miracle, they called me. I’ve tried to live up to that standard my entire life, and when they grew older and needed my help more, it gave me more reason to stay.

But now they’re gone, and a part of me died with them. My only family. My only ties to Chicago.

The only place I could get a job after college was the funeral home, and though I was qualified, I was never allowed to prep a body for its final rest. The owner was a prick, and because I was a woman, I wasn’t capable, in his eyes, to do anything but plan and run the funerals.

I look at my best friend as she folds the shirt that I threw at her.

Tori dropped out of college after two years, leaving meall alone. She had thought she learned everything she needed to, and aside from that, she’s not one to stick around for long. I never held it against her, and still don’t, that she moved on before I could. And she’ll never admit it, but the guy she was dating, the guy who almost ruined her life by selling her identity online, nearly broke her. I think she may have quit college and moved to Fairview to run away and lick her wounds.

But apparently, it was the best decision she ever made because she’s built quite a life here. Dug her claws in and refused to leave. There’s still no man in her life though. She doesn’t trust them enough to keep them around for long, and I can’t say I blame her. What that guy did to her almost made me swear them off too.

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