Just Friends (Book 2 of the Home Again Series)

By Alyssa Kress

He'll never see her as more than a friend.

Computer nerd Rosalie Missen has been in love with Clint Carmichael since high school. But the hunky carpenter considers her his best friend - and friend alone. In fact, he even married another woman during Rosalie's long infatuation. But now he's single again, and Rosalie wonders if she can gather the courage to make her play. Or should she recognize defeat before embarrassing them both and take a job in a different city? One way or another, it's time to move on with her life.

Though Clint is relieved that his shotgun marriage is over, he feels responsible and guilty for the breakup. He's supposed to be the emotional fixer, the guy who makes everybody happy. But he hadn't been able to make his ex happy, and now he's apparently failing to please his best friend Rosalie. She's thinking of moving away. Leaving him behind. He frantically searches for a way to convince her to stay. He's willing to do anything.

Anything except risk his heart.

A heartwarming and sexy romance, this is the second book of the Home Again series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alyssa Kress
• Release date: Dec 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370643530

Alyssa Kress

Alyssa Kress completed her first novel at the age of six, an unlikely romance between a lion and the jackal who wants to steal his meal. Despite earning two degrees from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and spending nearly a decade in the construction industry, she's yet to see her feet stay firmly on the ground. She now lives in Southern California, three miles from where she first committed pen to paper, together with her husband and two children.

Book preview

He'll never see her as more than a friend.

Computer nerd Rosalie Missen has been in love with Clint Carmichael since high school. But the hunky carpenter considers her his best friend—and friend alone. In fact, he even married another woman during Rosalie's long infatuation. But now he's single again, and Rosalie wonders if she can gather the courage to make her play. Or should she recognize defeat before embarrassing them both and take a job in a different city? One way or another, it's time to move on with her life.

Though Clint is relieved that his shotgun marriage is over, he feels responsible and guilty for the breakup. He's supposed to be the emotional fixer, the guy who makes everybody happy. But he hadn't been able to make his ex happy, and now he's apparently failing to please his best friend Rosalie. She's thinking of moving away. Leaving him behind. He frantically searches for a way to convince her to stay. He's willing to do anything.

Anything except risk his heart.

A heartwarming and sexy romance, this is the second book of the Home Again series.

JUST FRIENDS

(Book 2 of the Home Again Series)

by Alyssa Kress

Published by 4 Dolphins Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 Alyssa Kress

Cover Design Copyright 2016

by http://coversbykaren.com

Discover these and other titles by Alyssa Kress at her webpage, http://www.alyssakress.com

Marriage by Mistake

The Heart Heist

The Indiscreet Ladies of Green Ivy Way

Asking For It

Love and the Millionairess

Working on a Full House

Your Scheming Heart

I Gotta Feeling

The Fiancée Fiasco

If I Loved You

That'll Be the Day

A Perfect Knave

Call it Love

and the collection of all 12 of the above nonfree books:

Dangerous Men and Determined Women

Plus another FREE book:

Good Neighbors (Book 1 of the Home Again Series)

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, then please visit http://www.alyssakress.com to find licensed retailers from whom you can purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious, even those referring to actual or well-known entities. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Acknowledgements

The author would like to thank everyone who has given immense support and help in creating this and other stories: Julie Woolley, Kathy Bennett, Jenna Ives, Leigh Court.

Special thanks to family law attorney James Green for his advice regarding Clint's divorce. Any mistakes in that area are the author's.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

About the Author

Other Books by Alyssa Kress

Preview of Alex's book (Book 3 of the Home Again Series)

CHAPTER ONE

Clint Carmichael wondered if he was a fool. On the eve of his hard-won freedom from the gender, he was seeking out a woman.

But Rosalie Missen wasn't exactly a woman, he decided as he guided his pickup downtown. At least, she wasn't the kind a man had to watch out for. Clint looked forward to surprising her this evening.

He found a parking spot across the street from one of the few mid-rise professional buildings that graced the high desert California town of Palmwood. As a craftsman, he didn't care for the sleek, off-green monolith of reflective windows where Rosalie worked, but he smiled up the height of the cold-looking building with the sun in his heart. Today everything looked beautiful. In his pocket he had the printed proof of that: the judge's order granting him a status divorce.

Two-and-a-half years ago he'd been stupid enough—and horny enough—to sleep with Judy Dawson. Two weeks later she'd tearfully called with the news she was pregnant, despite their use of two different types of birth control. Three days after that, and after viewing the stick with the two red lines, Clint decided to act the hero and asked her to marry him.

But no child ever arrived, and his grand gesture turned into the biggest mistake of his life. Judy wanted more than a marriage of convenience, and he hadn't been able to give that to her. Six months ago, she'd walked out on him and had proceeded to persecute him so badly with her stalking and harassment that he'd been forced to file for divorce.

Clint accepted his share of the blame for the failure of the marriage, but tonight all he was thinking about was his relief. It was over. Releasing a very happy sigh, he crossed the street and entered the office building's granite lobby.

It was after six. He hoped Rosalie would be able to leave the office. She often worked overtime and sometimes all night, being conscientious and a bit proud. As the IT coordinator, she was the only employee at the big development corporation who could fix their computer issues. Some might call her a nerd, but Clint called her his very best bud. He really wanted to celebrate his milestone with her.

While in the hushed elevator cab riding to the tenth floor, Clint heard his phone receive a text. Taking it out of his pocket, he smiled at the name of the sender: Tom Gearson. Clint had met with Gearson yesterday to discuss some built-in cabinets for a bedroom remodel. Clint thought his portfolio had impressed the other man.

Sorry. Going with another carpenter. Please don't call.

Wow. Clint shook his head with a frown. He'd been sure Gearson was going to hire him. And what was this bit about 'please don't call'? Had Clint given the impression he was going to pester the guy if he changed his mind?

With a shrug, Clint turned off the phone and stuck it back in his pocket. You couldn't win them all, and today he'd won enough. Divorced.

Okay, his attorney had reminded him this was only a status divorce, merely giving Clint the ability to remarry. There was still the matter of property to be settled. But, come on. He and Judy hadn't had any 'property.' She was dreaming if she thought she could get her claws on his deceased father's house just because Clint happened to live there now. In no way was that community property.

The elevator slowed at the tenth floor, and the doors slid apart smoothly. A set of big double doors stood open, revealing a large reception desk. Beyond the desk, two halls stretched.

Nobody was visible down the halls or at the reception desk, but the main doors were open and the lights were all on. Clearly, at least a few employees were still working.

Clint headed down the hall on the left toward Rosalie's little closet of an office. The anticipation of seeing her raised his happiness quotient even higher. Having acted as a support for him through the two years of his miserable marriage, she'd understand the full meaning of his news. Better yet, she'd be happy to indulge him in exactly the kind of celebration he'd enjoy, hanging out at home with dinner and a couple movies.

Rosalie's office door was open. Grinning, Clint stepped around the frame. However, the room was empty. The little carpeted square with her desk, filing cabinet, and two computer monitors held no short, frizzy-haired bunny rabbit.

Rosalie would be horrified if she knew Clint thought of her as a round, cuddly little bunny rabbit. That's the image that had first struck him, though, when he'd met her back in his junior year of high school. As the teacher's assistant in the Sculpting I class, he'd taken on the task of helping the out-of-place math nerd Rosalie figure out what to do with her virgin block of clay, the art assignment she could not seem to handle, quite literally. With her long baggy shirts and her flyaway hair, she'd appeared to him then like a disgruntled rabbit. She hadn't changed much about the baggy shirts or the flyaway hair in the intervening ten years, and the picture of her in his mind remained.

Her overhead light and computer monitors were still on, so she was somewhere in the building even if she weren't in her office. After a moment's pause, Clint decided to go look for her. Formal office hours were over. Nobody would blame her for having a personal friend drop by.

Most of the doors down the hall were closed, but a few were open with the light from inside spilling out. Clint ambled toward the first such room and peered inside.

A tall, sloe-eyed woman turned from her perusal of her computer to regard him. She looked like a model, from the elegant twist of her mahogany hair to her shiny black heels. In between was a sleek body wrapped in a skirt suit that glided precisely over every slender curve. Yes? she inquired in a throaty voice.

Clint met her frank regard and felt...nothing. He experienced not even the twinge of a sexual response to this veritable paragon. As a twenty-six-year-old man, he probably should have felt some concern over this lack of interest. Instead, he felt profound relief, if not triumph. There wasn't a sexual impulse left in his battered soul.

Fantastic. Since sexual impulses were what had gotten him into the tornado his life had been for the past two-odd years, he hoped he never had another one in his life.

He didn't have to worry about that with Rosalie. The bunny rabbit woke not a ghost of such a thing.

I'm looking for Rosalie Missen, Clint told the woman with the almond eyes. Do you happen to know where she might be?

The siren moved her head slightly to the left. She went down the hall to take 'an important call.' I don't know what's more important than getting my Excel spreadsheet to work when I have a deadline tomorrow, but she thought something was. Apparently. The woman half closed her eyes, as if daring Clint to disagree with her assessment of the situation.

Oh, it's the B-word lady. At least that's what Rosalie always called her when she related stories about the office. Rosalie didn't like using the actual word bitch because it was something her older brother had called her too often. Her brother had relished trying to get her goat, goaded on by a father who himself rarely had anything nice to say about her. In consequence, Rosalie was sensitive about using the word on any woman, even one who did her best to make the work environment unbearable.

I'll see if I can find her, Clint said.

The siren shrugged.

Clint continued down the hall slowly and checked the next open door. A young man with a crew cut did not look up from his work.

Where would Rosalie go to take a call if not her own office?

Her voice stopped him before he saw her. Rosalie had a deceptively sweet, high voice. Deceptive because the sharpest barbs could be carried on that dulcet tone if she were exercised enough to state her true opinion about something. She appeared to be talking behind some closed door—Clint wasn't sure which one.

Not that he would have gone around opening doors to interrupt her private conversation. In fact, he was about to retreat down the hall back to her office to wait for her when her next words stopped him, unfortunately clear despite the closed door.

...is an interesting, in fact, amazing opportunity. Working on website algorithms is exactly what I've trained for. The only thing that concerns me is relocating to Boston. I'm going to need to think about that. When do you need a decision?

Clint's heart turned to stone in his chest. Relocate? To Boston?

Forcefully, he drew in a breath to get his heart working again, turned on his heel, and walked quickly back the hall in the direction from which he'd come. Rosalie had supposed she was private, slipping into the first empty office she could find. She had no idea Clint—or anyone else—could overhear her conversation.

Meanwhile, a two-ton weight latched onto his chest. Hell, he hadn't even known Rosalie was looking for another job. But apparently, she'd done more than merely look. She'd found one.

That meant his very best friend, the one on whom he'd counted all these years, particularly the last two during his marriage—she was maybe leaving.

Unnerved, Clint ducked into the office of the siren with the attitude. He didn't want Rosalie seeing him out in the hall and didn't want to take the time to walk all the way back to her office.

The paragon turned slowly to regard him.

Oh. Hi, again. Automatically, Clint produced a smile. Couldn't find her, so I'll wait for her here to finish her call. Uh, if you don't mind.

The woman blinked lethargically. Why should I mind? I only work here.

Her sarcasm bounced right off of Clint. He was too busy trying to process what he'd overheard. Rosalie might leave.

He bit his lip and tried to shift the painful weights in his chest. Heck, Rosalie didn't owe him a damn thing, certainly didn't owe him staying in some job that wasn't 'what she'd trained for' in podunk Palmwood.

But he felt like he'd been hit by one of the two-by-fours he kept in his carpentry yard. When had she planned to tell him? Had she ever planned to tell him?

Shit.

~~~

Rosalie was in a state of shock. She'd just gotten offered her dream job, the one she'd fantasized about during the tough four years of a computer science major at UC Berkeley.

As she made her way down the hall toward Emily Wheaton's office, she should have been walking on air. Instead, she felt dread and anxiety.

The job would involve moving to Boston. Admittedly, Rosalie was not particularly attached to the mid-sized town of Palmwood or even to the presence of her mother still living here and certainly not to the residence of her father nearby—but she didn't want to move away. Even back when she'd been choosing a college to attend, she'd made sure to pick one within reasonable driving distance of Palmwood. She'd wanted to be able to touch base here during school vacations.

Rosalie paused a moment before reaching the open door of the office where Emily was waiting for help with her computer problem. With a deep breath, Rosalie worked to even her expression. It wouldn't do for anyone at Blaine Development to know Rosalie might be leaving for a better job.

That is, she might leave if it weren't for that one factor that kept her in Palmwood.

That one person.

Sighing at her silly obstinacy on the subject, Rosalie stepped around the frame of the opened door and abruptly stopped dead. Clint.

The one person himself. Clint Carmichael. Straight dark hair, caramel brown eyes, not too tall—but neither was she—and movie star smile. He was shooting that lethal thing at her right now, destroying any semblance she might have of dignity or poise. Ever since she'd first seen him across the quad in high school, Clint had been able to discompose her this way.

Instantly, just as it had then, his unconsidered masculinity robbed Rosalie of any pretension she might have to a feminine bone of her own. She felt awkward and heavy and pre-pubescent.

It wasn't his fault. He simply was the epitome of romantic and sexual desire, sweet and strong and lovely. She was the exact opposite: sexless and a nerd.

Hey. Still smiling, Clint was apparently unfazed, by, or possibly familiar with, the blank expression Rosalie sent him when she hadn't had time to prepare a better one. Thought I'd drop in and surprise you. I, uh, hope that's okay. He threw a humorous glance toward Emily, who was glaring bullets at him.

He clearly had no idea how thrilled Rosalie was to see him. He never did, thank God.

Quickly, Rosalie assumed her 'friends-only' smile, the one she'd created especially for Clint. Even if she could have attained a spot on the long list of girlfriends he'd had before his marriage, she wouldn't have tried for such a place. All of those women had ended up passing right out of his life.

Rosalie hadn't wanted to pass out of his life. She liked him too very much. So she kept things platonic and never let Clint guess her true feelings.

They were obviously not returned.

Of course it's okay to drop by. Isn't that why Rosalie was living here? Wasn't that why matters had never clicked with the handful of men she'd managed to date during college and over the past couple years? Because nobody else made her feel the way that Clint did.

We're not done, Emily coldly put in.

Oh. Sorry. Turning to Emily, Clint went straight into soother mode. He was expert at that; he'd always been the peacemaker in his own, sometimes turbulent, family. Absolutely Rosalie will help you get your spreadsheet working. I wouldn't dream of interrupting.

His words put a satisfied smile on Emily's face. She was going to get her own way, as usual. She probably thought it was because Clint thought she was cute. She might have been correct. He had a hard time turning down a pretty woman.

In this case, however, Rosalie wasn't about to let Emily drive Clint away. It shouldn't take all that long for me to get Emily's software to work. In reality, the software was operating beautifully. It was Emily's technophobia that was the problem.

Then I'll wait for you. Beaming, Clint touched the pocket of his shirt. I've got some really fantastic news I want to share. His lashes lowered a little. I thought maybe, you know, after you're done here, we can, you know.

His invitation sounded utterly sexual, but Rosalie knew what he was actually suggesting: takeout from the China Trade restaurant and over to his house for two back-to-back action adventure movies. It was their favorite hangout thing to do.

But that smile—had he gotten finalization of his divorce? Exhilaration swept her—she couldn't help it. When Clint had called her two-and-a-half years ago to give her the news he'd just eloped, Rosalie had been devastated. It would have been too low, though, to wish he'd divorce. Rosalie had resisted such a desire even when she'd deduced later that Clint himself wasn't so thrilled about the marriage.

But when, six weeks after the wedding, Clint had grimly informed Rosalie that Judy'd had a miscarriage, Rosalie had stopped feeling guilty about hoping for a divorce. She suspected what Judy must have done to get