Love Shack (Tiny Houses, Big Hearts) (4 page)

Deborah unbuttoned her blazer and shrugged it off. The sun ducked behind a small cloud and the breeze let them all breathe for a moment again. Were this any real kind of meeting, Brandon would have followed her lead and removed his blazer too. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t help cool him off. He had obviously died last night, and this was hell.

Chapter Seven

Felicity thanked Deborah’s assistant for the water. Straight from a cooler or a nearby fridge, the plastic was covered in condensation. Felicity took the opportunity to lift her hair up and rub the bottle on the back of her neck.

She was thoroughly enjoying the simple experience, so she closed her eyes as she ran the bottle around her neck and over her chest. A cough had her eyes snapping open.

The banker was staring at her. It must have still been really hot because she certainly wasn’t able to cool down.

She made a mental note to open the vent windows and run the air conditioner to let the hot air seep out of her house.

“Were you in on this?” The poor man was sweating through his button down.

Felicity pulled him into the shade and turned him around. His face was red, and he was overheating in the summer sun. Giving up the remaining cold from the bottle, she placed the cool plastic against the back of his neck before he could turn around again.

“Just because I would sell my soul to have you keep doing that doesn’t mean I don’t want an answer.” But like he told her, he was enjoying the cool down too much to turn around so he left her to try and figure out what he was talking about as he rolled his head side to side. The water dripped and mingled against his collar with the smattering of perspiration.

Felicity licked her lips at the thought of drinking the cool water from him as his blood pumped hard beneath the skin on his neck.

“Oh.” She pulled the bottle back, suddenly very aware that her hands where resting on strong shoulders. She sucked in a breath as her gaze traveled down a trim waist just above angular hips that looked great in dark navy fabric.

“Oh?”

While she was still breathless at her discovery of his physical beauty he turned and the water bottle bounced against his shoulder. Felicity’s hands bopped the bottle up in the air a few times and she struggled to try and catch it. Brandon Halston tried for the grab too.

Their hands smacked against each other, and the bottle fell to the ground. Luckily, it didn’t pop, because Felicity was pretty darn sure she needed water in order to block herself from speaking and sounding like a goober.

They both bent down at the same time and Felicity realized she wasn’t the only one with a hard head.

“Ow.” Brandon grabbed her arms and backed her up to a bench under the tree they were stealing shade from.

Felicity plopped down as he rubbed his head and retrieved the bottle.

“Do they have more of these?” he asked as he brushed the mulch off.

“They probably do, but the assistant went back inside.” Felicity reached for the bottle, but frowned as the banker who was becoming a pain in her ass as well as her skull opened the lid and swallowed half the bottle before handing it over.

He shrugged at her expression. “If we are going to be living close together, sharing is going to be important, right?”

Felicity grabbed the bottle and pulled it against her chest. “You can’t be serious.”

Brandon pointed to the flurry of activity around a laptop on the back of the news van. “Their website has been exploding ever since your human interest piece aired. Guess what? They all think us battling it out in shacks is a great freaking idea.”

“Tiny houses.”

“So, I suggest you start building, because it looks like this is going to happen.”

Deborah rushed over to the shade tree and began pulling on her blazer. “We need another spot. This is huge. And I’ve got the whole story. Do you have any idea how much coverage you are both going to get with this?”

“I doubt any of this would be beneficial to the bank. Watching their manager live with a hippie can’t be good for their confidence in my managing their money.”

Deborah raised her hand as if she was thinking of smacking Brandon. She cracked her knuckles instead.

“They want the people they place their money with to seem human, not above them in social status. For fuck’s sake, how do you know so little about the human race?”

Felicity smiled as Brandon frowned.

Deborah poured water on her hands. With a flick of her wrist, she smoothed her hair. “Besides, just having your bank’s name on this, possibly as a sponsor,” she hinted, none too subtly, “would increase brand recognition. And living with this cutie in a tight space would be a hell of a reality show, if either of you wanted to go that route.”

Felicity lost her smile. “He doesn’t have to live with me. I think it would be better for him to get the sense of freedom if he went into his own building. Then I could showcase some of the new designs I’m working on. I’ve got this great idea for a bump-out dormer that hangs over the hitch—“

Deborah waved her off. “Do you have anything other than your own home built now?”

“Well, no…but…”

“Then it’s a moot point. This is a hot idea now. Not months from now when you build a new structure. Do you want this to get attention?”

Felicity nodded.

Deborah turned to Brandon. “Do you want your bank to benefit from the exposure, brand recognition, and new way of marketing to your customers?”

Brandon frowned as he nodded.

Deborah put away her compact and buttoned her blazer before she slapped him on the shoulder. “Then pack a bag, sport. You’re moving in.”

She waved the camera crew over and Felicity eyed her new roommate. She wondered where she would put an air mattress to accommodate someone so tall. She also wondered if his broad shoulders would fit in her slim shower.

She was grateful for the fresh cold water bottle that was handed to her. She downed it.

Chapter Eight

Brandon looked at his suitcase and travel bag, then back to the closet on wheels the crazy lady lived in. Then he looked again. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t even open all of his bags at once in this place.

He was about to run the other direction when the little door opened.

“Oh. You’re early. Deborah wanted to get footage of your first impressions of the house.”

Brandon slipped his computer bag off his shoulder and stacked it on top of the rolling carry on.

He mumbled to himself as he stalled. “Deborah doesn’t want my first impressions on film without a censor present.”

The crazy hippie woman stepped out of the door and onto…was that a hay bale? Her step was a hay bale. This was not his life.

He had gotten a call from his boss seconds after the piece aired. Brandon was getting a bonus. He was getting paid extra without taking away his vacation time. He should be thrilled. Instead, he was thinking of catching the flu on purpose. Sure, it was summer, but someone somewhere had to have a contagious disease he could contract.

His new roommate had her hair wrapped up on her head with two sticks sticking out the back. She walked over to him and looked into his eyes. Her hand came up to block the early morning sun from shining into her pupils.

She didn’t look so crazy when he took the house out of the picture. When she was this close to him, and there wasn’t anything else but the slight breeze lifting a few of her hairs to brush against him, she looked…free.

She looked like she was just open to whatever would happen. Hell, she had to be. She was inviting a virtual stranger into her home for a month. The few things she did know about him, she sure couldn’t be very fond of.

Brandon rolled his shoulders and leaned back to look at her more easily.

“Why are you willing to do this?”

She got back inside his personal bubble and he realized she was using him as shade from the sun. He’d have to deal with her standing close enough that he could smell her soft floral perfume or he’d have to go inside the house. He let her stay close.

“I’m willing to let you live with me, because I want this to happen.”

Brandon choked.

She rolled her eyes. “I want my business to be funded, and if a human interest piece with a subhuman participant will do that…well, I’m ready to survive a month.”

“Calling me subhuman will not make this month any more pleasurable.”

“Eh. I tend to tell people what I think when they live in my home. You’re my guest, but you’re also trapped here with me.” She smiled. “Should I tell you how to use the composting toilet or did you want to figure it out on your own?”

* * * * *

The day didn’t get any better after his education on “recycling”. Brandon could have done without knowing about the difference between sewage and gray water.

Deborah and the cameraman had shown up a few moments after he was calculating exactly how far of a walk it would be to the nearest gas station.

She had the camera set up out front after Felicity showed them around the house for some B-roll to interject into the news feature. It didn’t even take ten minutes to tour the whole house. This was ridiculous. Brandon had looked around while Felicity was talking about how to use peat moss in the toilet. He’d only seen one bed. That was a conversation the two of them were going to have
after
the camera crew left.

Deborah had her “Debbie Digs” uniform on again. The severe slicked back hair and dark suit looked incredibly uncomfortable. At least this time, while he was interrogated for the enjoyment of the general public, he had on some jeans and a polo. Cotton was so much nicer to sweat into.

“I’m just going to run through a quick introduction of the story and then I’ll ask a few questions. This all will get edited, so if we stumble around, I’m not going to stop the feed. It’s not live, but I’m not going to throw out anything that will make good television. So I’d watch how much you look down her shirt there, sport.”

Brandon’s eyes snapped to the camera. “I was looking at the beadwork on her top.”

“Convenient that the only beads are between her boobs. Assuming we don’t count the beads of sweat on your brow.”

Brandon grabbed the handkerchief he’d put in his pocket and dabbed his forehead. This was about to be the longest month of his life.

Chapter Nine

Felicity got through the interview easily. Deborah was passionate about the tiny house movement, and it showed in every question she asked. The usual comments that came from people who talked down to tiny housers were completely absent, and it was liberating to see her ideas and her project taken seriously.

Of course, this could all be edited out depending on what she did with the footage her cameraman shot. Deborah gave Felicity yet another card but wrote on the back when the story was slated to air.

“There are three different times on this card. Which one is my story?” Felicity asked as she typed the info into her calendar app.

“All of them.” Deborah helped her cameraman break down his gear, and pulled out a few bobby pins as she talked. “This is going to be a featured piece throughout the day, and with the news station’s web page, it will also go live onto the site an hour before we start using the various cuts. Depending on when the other stories get finished and the time block for them all, we will compose different lengths to accommodate.”

“So you are going to show this all day long?” Brandon asked.

Felicity hopped inside and grabbed one of her two reusable water bottles from the fridge for him. The man sure was sweaty. Usually that grossed her out, but his scent was so darn appealing that his perspiration just amplified his natural woodsiness.

Handing him the bottle, she had to ask, “What are you wearing that smells like wood?”

Brandon gave her the side-eye as he grabbed the bottle but didn’t answer her question. He shook his head before he ignored her and went back to talking to Deborah.

“Deborah, I thought this was going to be a simple human interest piece.” He drank the water.

“A thank you would have been nice,” Felicity mumbled before taking a swig of her own.

Deborah handed the last bit of equipment to her cameraman and he rushed it off to the van to avoid it being out in the heat any longer than possible. “You two nearly overloaded our servers. This story is adorable, and people are salivating to see the big powerful banker struggle to sleep on a tiny couch.” Deborah eyed them both before she leaned toward Felicity. “If you don’t have him sleep on the couch, I promise it will be our little secret.”

Felicity promptly spit out the water. Thankfully she turned fast enough so as not to nail Debbie’s nice suit.

She continued to hack up a lung while Brandon ushered the reporter away, and then suddenly it wasn’t novel any longer. This wasn’t just some made-for-TV stunt to use to increase interest in her project. She was going to have this man in her home.

Part of the beauty of a tiny house was never having people ask to spend the night. Every part of her home was hers. Sharing it wouldn’t just be an adjustment for her wide-eyed banker. She would have to make some serious modifications to her routine. She’d have to actually close the bathroom door while showering and…well, everything else that happened in a bathroom.