The Next Day (Foothills Book 2) by Carrie Thorne (mind reading books .txt) 📗

as she brushed past. Carting the box up the steps, he had to lean forward so he didn’t fall backward, his hands near shaking as he gripped the thing. Yep, he’d packed his entire kitchen in one massive box. Dumbass. Maybe cast iron hadn’t been so brilliant after all.

He carted this one straight into the kitchen and turned to get the next. Another walking box appeared in the doorway. Dashing back down the stairs, he tried to keep up with her pace. Didn’t want his volunteer to carry in more of his stuff than he did.

When he reached the bottom, a gorgeous woman with a slim runner’s body came jogging out of the house. Recognizing her from the photo Asher had shown him, he didn’t need the introduction. She smiled as she approached, “Glad you made it okay. I’m Sophie.”

“Hi, glad to finally meet you. Where’s that deadbeat boyfriend of yours?”

Rolling her eyes, she grinned, “Claims you could use some time to get settled. I think he just hates moving.”

Tilting his head to the side, he teased, “Always the lazy one.”

Glancing up, he saw Freya’s fine ass swinging up the stairs as she carted up a pair of lamps. Suppressing a groan before he let on how long it had been since he’d even noticed a woman, the last few years in the Navy having crushed his sex drive to a flaccid pulp, he felt an almost foreign, but miraculously welcome twitch in his pants. Didn’t matter what the woman’s face looked like, he was absolutely interested. Closing his eyes, he kicked his mental ass for being such a shallow dickwad, while cheering that things were still functional down there.

Turning, he checked the boxes and grabbed another that said HEAVY on it. Not that he doubted his new neighbors couldn’t handle it; hell, Freya’s bare shoulders said she was fit as fuck, but it was his shitty packing job, he’d take the crap loads.

A few more times up and down the stairs, and they were already done. Trekking down the stairs for the last item, he watched as Freya’s curvy backside strutted out of sight.

Sophie waited at the bottom. “See you around. Don’t be a stranger. You need anything, directions, food, whatever, just come on over, okay?”

His breath came easy as he reached the ground. “I really appreciate the help. Thanks. Know any good pizza delivery around here?”

Shaking her head, Sophie grinned. “My first time living in rurality too. Say goodbye to conveniences like delivery. Anonymity. Variety. Walking anywhere useful.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “You know, my sister said I could stay in her apartment in Denver while she’s deployed. Should have taken her up on it.”

“Give it a few weeks and then let me know how you feel.” She backed up a few steps. “Check your fridge. Paul and Denise stocked it for you, among other updates.”

“Asher’s parents did all this? I got to know them a bit on their trips to visit Asher. They’d take the three of us to dinner every time.”

“They’re good people. Be careful, they take in strays.”

There was that damn pang again. Like the one he’d felt on the drive in. “The couch?”

She nodded. “And the bed. See you around, Zane.”

Shit, he hadn’t even been in the bedroom yet. He’d been planning to sleep on the floor the first night or two until he picked up a mattress. The truck gate vibrated his palms as he slammed it shut.

Crunching the dirt under his feet, he halted. Heaviness in his gut weighed him down as he remembered he had one more load. He opened the passenger door and unhooked Jack. Carting the cool metal under his arm, he trudged up the stairs for the last time that night.

His eyes blurred as he looked around the room. Where the hell did one store their dead friend? Shaking his head, he blinked away the weird question. “Not like you’re going to care, you’re just a tin can of dust.” He tucked Jack’s urn into the back of the coat closet.

2

Good Morning, Sunshine

Thundering louder than the caffeine headache he was brewing, Zane awoke to a fist pounding on his door. Fucking shit, Asher. It was seven in the damn morning, and he hadn’t slept more than a quick nap at a rest stop on the drive up. Grumbling, he pulled on a pair of black sweats.

Swinging open the door, he snagged the coffee straight from Asher’s hand. “Hey,” he muttered.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Asher grinned back. As he stepped into the apartment, his feet echoing on the floor as it was still essentially empty aside from the couch and stack of boxes, he whistled. “You’ve got some unpacking to do.”

Zane flipped him off as he wandered to his new couch, plopped down, and popped the cap off his coffee.

Asher explored, ducking his head into the bedroom before scoping out the rest. Zane still couldn’t believe Asher’s parents had done all this for him. His own parents hadn’t even returned his call yet so he could let them know he was out of the Navy. As soon as his moving team had left last night, he’d crashed face down on the pristinely made bed.

Asher dumped his bag of savory-scented something in the kitchen and crashed on the other side of the L couch. “I think my mother likes you better than me. I got dishes as a housewarming present.”

Zane flashed him a sleepy wink. “It’s mutual. Mind sending me her number, your dad’s too, so I can thank them for setting this place up so nice? You made it sound like I was moving into some tired old dump, the apartment over your grandfather’s garage.”

“You were. Then they took one look and decided to do the remodel they’d been planning. You owe me too,