Forbidden Roommate Read online

  Forbidden Roommate

  Holly Jaymes

  Copyright © 2020 by Holly Jaymes

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  1. Coming Home

  2. In Walks the Past

  3. The Past Colliding with the Present

  4. A New Kind of Heat

  5. Saved by the Bell

  6. Lucky Man or Fool?

  7. Finally Seen

  8. Done

  9. Coming Clean

  10. Finally

  11. For Now

  12. Capturing a Moment In Time

  13. Domestic Bliss

  14. The Feud

  15. Stuck in the Middle

  16. Making Up

  17. Parents Can Be So Clueless

  18. Meeting the Enemy

  19. Is My Secret Safe?

  20. Blood is Thicker than Water

  21. Caught

  22. Retaliation

  23. A Deal with the Devil

  24. Betrayed Again

  25. Messed up, Again

  26. Drinking Away the Pain

  27. Where I Should Be

  28. The Final Approval

  Epilogue

  About Holly James

  Also by Holly Jaymes

  Author’s Note

  Thank you, thank you, for reading my book, “Forbidden Roommate”! I’m so grateful and I hope that you enjoyed the stories.

  Reviews for my books are very important to me as an author. If you enjoyed reading my books I’d be so thankful if you would be willing to write me a review.

  Thanks again for your support and for reading my story. I couldn’t do it without you!

  XX Holly

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  Coming Home

  Chapter One: Coming Home

  Willa

  Forbidden friendships, secret happy moments, and high school crushes. This is what I thought of when I thought of Eden Lake, my hometown.

  I grew up in affluence and had the chance to travel some, but I had to say that California was the greatest place on earth. Located in a single state, you could find sandy beaches or rugged coastlines, mountains and deserts, majestic redwood trees, and magnificent granite of Yosemite. There was the excitement of Disneyland and Hollywood in the south, and the Golden Gate Bridge and wine country in the north.

  Then there was Eden Lake. It was named by my five-time great grandfather, Henry Haynesville. It was discovered when he and his partner, Jeb McLean, came upon the pristine lake nestled between pine-filled mountains while searching for gold. The town was only a hundred miles from Los Angeles. Still, it felt like a paradise a world away from the smog and traffic. It started out as a mining town. Over the last century and a half, it grew into what was now a popular escape for city folk looking for hiking and lake recreation in the summer, or skiing and snow sports in the winter.

  But as beautiful and perfect as it had been, this was the first time I was returning since leaving at eighteen to attend college. To be honest, I wasn’t thrilled to be coming home. Would my family and I be remembered and scorned or perhaps worse? They might even make fun of us. Or maybe, after ten years, they wouldn’t remember me at all. Which was worse? To be remembered negatively or forgotten altogether? Not that I was particularly memorable back then. If it wasn’t for my family history and money, no one would have noticed me.

  “Good, God, Willa. What does it matter?” I chastised myself as I drew closer to the turn that would take me to my parents’ home. I wasn’t coming back to reminisce or visit old friends. The truth was, I didn’t have old friends in Eden Lake; not anymore. I shook my head to push away the image of Mason McLean. He’d secretly been my best friend, but like the rest of his family, eventually, he joined the century-long feud between our families and abandoned me.

  I reached the turn taking me off the highway. Then I went north of the lake and up into the mountains toward my family home. No one would be there. My parents left Eden Lake not long after I did. They sold everything except the house that I grew up in. At the time, I think they hoped that someday they would come back. Or maybe they didn’t want Eden Lake to forget the Haynesville family and our place in Eden Lake history.

  Now, they wanted to sell. None of us had ever returned, and except for renting it out to vacationers, the home sat empty. Because I lived the closest, my parents asked me to check the house and see what it would need to put it on the market. As it turned out, it was a good time for me to leave Los Angeles. I’d just been laid off from my newspaper job and could no longer afford to live in southern California. I’d been getting by on freelance work, but it was time to figure out my next step. Maybe I could move to the east coast to find a job with a media outlet. Or perhaps I could move to Mexico or Costa Rica and continuing my freelance writing there. My stay in Eden Lake would give me some time to figure all of that out.

  The lake was gorgeous today under the late summer sun. The sky was clear, except for the billows of smoke puffing up on the northern side of the mountain. I’d noticed it when I entered the valley. At first, I was concerned because they appeared to be near the lake, but as I got closer, I could see it was farther on the other side of the hills surrounding the meadow and the lake.

  Fires have always been an issue in California, but it seemed to be worse over the last few years. At one time, national forests were the biggest victim, but now more and more homes and even entire towns were being swallowed up by the fires. People loved California because it hardly rained, but without rain, water was scarce, and fire was a big risk.

  I approached the next left-hand turn that would take me away from the lake, north into the mountains, and I noticed a barrier in the road along with a sheriff’s SUV.

  I turned on my blinker, wondering what was up. He waved his hand in a halt motion and came up to my driver's side window when I stopped.

  “My family home is up on Haynesville Ridge,” I said through the open window.

  “Sorry, ma’am. Haynesville Ridge is being evacuated.”

  “Now? Why?”

  “Most everyone is already out,” he said. “Winds are pushing the fire up the other side, and it’s not contained from coming down this side.”

  It was then that I heard the helicopter overhead. Looking through my front window, I noted it was carrying a large container of water.

  I sat, trying to figure out what to do.

  “There is an evacuation center at the elementary school if you would like to go there,” the deputy said.

  I turned my car around and headed back to the main highway, but as I approached it, I couldn’t decide if I should head into town or drive to my parents in Sedona, Arizona. If I left now, I could probably get there by dinner time.

  I blew out a breath as I decided they’d want to know how the house was if there was a fire threatening it. I made the left to head along the south side of the lake into Eden Lake.

  I slowed down as I entered the town limits. My heart sped up in my chest, though I couldn’t determine why. Was it because it looked familiar in so many ways? Or was it the few things that were new or different? Maybe it was my nerves. I didn't know how I felt about seeing the people I grew up with. If I was lucky, they wouldn’t recognize me, especially if I stayed around the touristy spots.

  I pulled into the nearest motel along the lake, parked, and walked into the lobby. I didn’t have the money to stay in a motel for an
extended period, but I could afford a night or two.

  “Welcome to Eden Lake,” an older gentleman behind the counter said. I studied him but didn’t recognize him.

  “Hi. I’d like a room.”

  “Do you have a reservation?”

  I shook my head. “I wasn’t expecting to need a place to stay.”

  His smile faltered. “I’m sorry. We’re booked. Between the tourists, the fire, and the upcoming reunion, we don’t have anything. I suspect it will be the same everywhere in town.”

  The number of year-round residents of Eden Lake wasn’t a whole lot. It was somewhere around six-thousand. But during the height of the summer and winter seasons, the number of people in the area grew at least ten times, maybe even more. There were lodges and hotels all around the lake, but according to this guy, they were all full.

  “Thank you.”

  “Here.” He handed me a coupon. “We have a deal with Paradise Java. It’s not a place to stay, but you can have a coffee and enjoy the area for a little bit.”

  Coffee didn’t seem like a worthy consolation prize, but then again, I probably had a long drive to wherever I was going to end up tonight. I could use the caffeinated pick-me-up.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the coupon and heading to my car. I scoffed as I wondered what the residents of Eden Lake would think of a Haynesville using a coupon. Since the founding of Eden Lake, the Haynesvilles had been the most affluent family in town. Our family made their money through a big gold strike by my ancestors and then smart investing over the years. That is until my father took a risk that cost him everything. All the real estate and businesses he owned had to be sold. All that was left was the house that I grew up in on Haynesville Ridge that I could assume might be burnt to the ground at this very moment.

  I drove through town just to see how it looked and then made a U-turn, heading back and parking in the Paradise Java parking lot. I hoped it was a place tourists visited and not the locals.

  I walked in, scanning the patrons. A group of young people, probably high schoolers, sat in one corner. A couple with Eden Lake t-shirts sat at a table going over a map. Tourists, clearly.

  “Hi, what can I get you?” The woman behind the counter looked like she was around my age, but I didn’t recognize her. Maybe my childhood peers had changed as much as I had.

  “Large iced latte.”

  “Do you want any extra shots or flavor?” she asked.

  Since I could be driving a lot longer, I nodded. “One extra shot.”

  “Coming right up. How are you enjoying your visit to Eden Lake?” she asked as she grabbed a cup and started to work on my coffee.

  “It’s the same and yet different than I remember.”

  “Oh. You’ve been here before?” She poured milk into a metal container and put it under the steamer to heat.

  “I grew up here.”

  “How lucky.”

  Growing up, I’d been fortunate. It was something I always tried to remind myself when I veered towards having a pity party. I wasn’t popular or anything like that. But I had a loving family and security. And I had a best friend that I thought would always be there for me. Once again, I shook Mason from my brain.

  “Why’d you leave?” she asked as she poured the milk into my cup.

  “College.”

  “I hear ya on that. I left home and haven’t been back either.”

  I wondered how a college-educated woman ended up being a barista in tiny Eden Lake. Before I had a chance to ask, something caught her attention behind me.

  She looked beyond me and smiled. “The usual?”

  “Make it double, Emma, thanks.”

  Everything inside me stilled. I knew that voice. It was slightly deeper, but there was no doubt in my mind who that was. Mason McLean was standing behind me.

  My hands shook slightly as I handed over my money.

  “Are you heading to the fire?” Emma asked, taking my money and getting me my change.

  “On my way now.”

  I wondered what Mason was doing heading to a fire. He was supposed to be in the military. At least that’s what he was doing when he left Eden Lake after high school.

  “I heard they evacuated Haynesville Ridge,” Emma said. “That’s a little too close for comfort.”

  I picked up my drink. In my head, I was telling myself, “Don’t look. Don’t look.” But I couldn’t help myself.

  I turned my head to see the man who’d been my best friend since I started school up until he turned his back on me in high school.

  Growing up, he’d been a bit like me; scrawny and plain. While I’d been bookish, he’d been more of a tech geek. At the end of high school, he started working out with his more athletic and popular younger brother, Tucker, and the last time I saw him, he was more filled out. But this man…holy moly. His t-shirt pulled tight over his chest, showing every line of his pec muscles. And he seemed bigger, wider, stronger.

  His boyish features were gone in his face too. He wore a light scruff of dark stubble. His hair was short, and his eyes were dark. He looked lethal.

  He turned to me with a smile and was about to say hi when he stopped. His smile faltered as recognition filled his eyes.

  “Willa?”

  I had this crazy urge to launch myself into his arms as I’d done growing up when I needed a friend. But I remembered that part of my predicament was his fault.

  “Mason.” I managed.

  He rolled his shoulders as if he was working on releasing tension. Why would he feel tension at seeing me?

  “I didn’t know you were in town,” he said.

  “Just arrived.”

  “You’re not planning to stay at your house, are you? That area has been evacuated.”

  “I was, but now I’m not sure where I’m going to stay…” I kicked myself for revealing so much. He didn’t need to know my business. “Are you living here again?”

  He nodded. “For a couple of years.”

  “Mason volunteers with the fire department,” Emma said. I wondered if he and Emma had a thing going on. A part of me hated that idea. I never liked it when it seemed like Mason was interested in a girl. Not that I was jealous. He was my friend; that’s it. At least that’s what I always told myself. Mason gestured for me to move to a spot against the wall so we wouldn't be in the way.

  “Is your family still here?” I asked.

  “Tucker plays football—”

  “Right. I knew that.” There was talk he could take his team to the Superbowl this year.

  “My parents moved to Mexico, living the dream.” He cocked his head to the side. “I haven’t seen your byline in the LA paper for a while.”

  Did he read my articles?

  “Layoffs. The Internet is killing newspapers. I freelance now.” I considered asking about his parents. But then again, I remembered they played a role in my family’s downfall.

  There was an awkward silence. I filled it by checking my watch. “If I’m going to find a place to stay, I need to head out,” I said as I made my way over to the counter and reached over for a lid to put on my coffee.

  “There won’t be any place around here,” Emma said.

  “I guess I’ll head back to San Bernardino. Thank you for the coffee.” Taking one last look at Mason, I said, “It was good to see you, Mason.”

  He nodded. “You too, Willa.”

  I tried to be nonchalant as I walked out the door, but inside I wanted to hurry. I’d almost made it to my car when I heard Mason call my name again.

  He strode toward me, looking taller than I’d remembered. “Listen. I'm probably going to be at this fire all night. Maybe even longer. You can stay at my place.”

  “I can’t stay with you,” I said in a tone that wasn’t as appreciative of the offer as good manners would dictate.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  He studied me. “No. I don’t think I do.”

  I looked around
to see if anyone was watching. The town didn’t need to see a Haynesville and McLean arguing on the street. The feud between our two families had started by Henry and Jeb, and it continued over a hundred years through to today.

  “I can’t stay with the man whose family ruined mine.”

  He let out a bark of a laugh. “My family did no such thing. If you want to blame someone, blame your dad’s greed and bad business decisions.”

  My hackles rose. “You purposefully took pleasure in not helping when you could have. You wanted to see us fall.”

  He shook his head. “You’ve become a Haynesville after all.”

  “What does that mean?” I wanted to push him, but he was such a hulk now, I doubted he’d feel it.

  “Growing up, we made a pact to never get caught up in the feud between our families. But now you’re one of them. Blaming my family.” He stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his earthy, manly scent. Electric tingles shot up my arms that I attributed to anger, not the hot man getting in my face.

  “My father made the decision to not help your dad, not me, not me,” he emphasized again. “Also, you have some nerve whining over his decision considering how your father and grand-father from way back treated my family.” He shook his head and made a face of distaste.

  He was right, but I was too raw and too vulnerable to admit it.

  “The offer stands if you can put up with staying in the home of a McLean. It’s the same house. My neighbor has the key.”

  “Your neighbor won’t let a Haynesville into your home.”

  “Nobody gives a shit about the families anymore, Willa.” He looked at me like I was a shallow, entitled brat. “Besides, she won’t recognize you,” he said, his gaze scanning up and down my body.