Page 85 of Free

Nick

The first morning after Charlie officially moves in feels surreal. Sunshine is the first to break the quiet, her tail thumping against the floor as she stretches, then trots to the edge of the bed to bark her usual morning greeting at the waves. The sound makes me smile, and when I roll over, Charlie is there, her hair a wild tangle, her face still soft with sleep.

She blinks up at me, squinting against the early morning sun. “Morning,” she murmurs, her voice low and raspy, and damn if that doesn’t make me want to pull her closer.

“Mornin,’ roomie,” I reply, brushing a stray curl from her cheek.

Her lips twitch into a sleepy smile. “Roomie, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” I press a kiss to her forehead before sitting up and stretching, the cool air hitting my bare back. Sunshine lets out an impatient yip, her usual reminder that she doesn’t do lazy mornings.

Charlie groans, pulling the blanket over her head. “I’m starting to rethink this whole living together thing. Your dog’s an alarm clock on steroids.”

I laugh, standing to scoop Sunshine into my arms. “She’s part of the package, babe. You knew what you were getting into.”

“Hmm,” Charlie hums from under the blanket. “Did I, though?”

“Let’s see…” I tick off on my fingers. “A Marine with lingering PTSD, a hyperactive dog who hogs the couch, and a house full of mismatched furniture. Sounds like a dream come true.”

Charlie peeks out from the blanket, her eyes sparkling. “It is, actually.”

The simplicity of her words hits me harder than I expect, and I reach out to brush my knuckles against her cheek. “Come on, Wildrose. Let’s make this place yours. First step, coffee.”

By mid-morning, the house is a hurricane of boxes, half-unpacked piles of Charlie’s things mingling with mine after a whirlwind weekend trip to Wildrose Landing and back. Sunshine alternates between sniffing every new item and stealing treasures to bury in the yard. We’re sorting through kitchen supplies when Charlie holds up a ceramic mug shaped like a cat’s face, complete with whiskers and ears.

“Explain this,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

I shrug, grabbing the coffee pot to refill my mug. “It was a gift from Nell. She said it ‘matched my vibe.’”

Charlie bursts into laughter. “You? A cat mug?”

“She’s ten. She’s not wrong,” I say, grinning. “You’re the dog energy in this relationship, remember, my little terrier?”

She sets the mug on the counter, her hands on her hips as she surveys the mess around us. “We’re gonna need a strategy.”

“Marine strategy or yoga strategy?”

“Definitely yoga. Marine strategy sounds like it involves yelling.”

“Only if you’re into that,” I tease, earning myself a swat on the arm. I grip her wrist and pull her close—wrapping her into my embrace, nuzzling her nose with mine—then kiss her with everything I am.

Later, we tackle the closet. It’s a tight fit, and Charlie’s wardrobe is at least twice the size of mine. She stands in front of the open doors, her hands on her hips, a crease forming between her brows.

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat,” she mutters.

I lean against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her. “Or we could just get rid of half your stuff.”

Her head snaps around, eyes narrowing. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Maybe.” I grin, dodging the throw pillow she launches my way.

By the time the closet is somewhat organized, we’re both sweaty and out of breath from laughing. Sunshine noses through a pile of discarded shoes, and Charlie collapses onto the bed, pulling me down beside her.

“You know,” she says, her voice thoughtful, “I was kind of worried about this. Living together, I mean.”

“Why?” I turn to face her, propping myself up on an elbow.

“I don’t know. Sharing space, merging routines… It’s a big change.” She pauses, biting her lip. “But this feels easy. Like it was always supposed to be this way.”

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