Page 10 of Starcrossed Colorado

At least he could admit that. “I understand your concerns, but I have a signed lease. We’ll have to deal with each other. I’m sure we can work it out.”

“I’m not trying to be rude here. But I have a kid to provide for. Running a business is hard enough without upending my daily routine. Much less cleaning dirty diapers and spit-up left all over from toddler music time.”

My spine straightened and my jaw clenched. Yet I still managed to smile. “I assure you, I will clean up after my classes.”

“That remains to be seen.” Ashford stopped the truck. “We’re here.”

We’d parked in front of a sprawling, multi-story Victorian house that had seen better days. A harsh streetlight lit up the brown lawn. A couple of shutters hung askew, and trash littered the yard.

I opened my phone to check the address again, but this was definitely the location of the room I’d rented. Not the commercial building I’d be sharing with Ashford, obviously, but where I’d sleep. The Ponderosa Apartments.

Those online pictures had been extremely misleading. But they took pets, offered month-to-month leases, and the apartment came furnished. So I wasn’t eager to complain.

“This boarding house is a dump, by the way.” Ashford propped his elbow against his door. “Hasn’t been updated since the last century.”

I smirked. “I wasn’t asking for your opinion. I think it looks great.”

“Really.”

“Yep. Historic charm.”

“That’s real estate code forold dump.”

“You really are a jerk.”

“So I’ve been told.”

I jumped out of the truck, slamming the door closed. My skin was hot all over, my heart racing. Setting my violin case carefully on the grass, I opened the backdoor of the cab.

“Stella. Come. Let’s go.”

She sat in the backseat, smiling. Then she put her paws on the center console, pushed her muzzle into the front seat area, and licked Ashford’s bearded face.

That traitor.

He leaned away from her tongue but rubbed her neck. She ate up the attention. “Go on,” he said. “Your mom’s waiting.”

Stella bounded out of the truck. I glared at her accusingly, and she had the grace to look guilty.

We were going to have words later about loyalty. No matter how hunky the man in question might be.

Ashford got out to help unload my stuff. “Just leave everything here on the grass,” I said. “I’ll take it up myself.”

“You sure?”

“Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any more than I have.” And yes, I was being sarcastic.

He frowned at the building, then at me. Then shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Just like I’m sure I’ll love it here, and that the people of Silver Ridge will adore my music classes. I’m going to have a fantastic summer. No matter what you might think.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I plan to.” Which maybe didn’t make sense. What did that saying really mean, anyway? But I didn’t care. Ashford could keep his opinions—and his big tattooed muscles and his doggy neck scratches—to himself.

Welcome to the Hart of Colorado?

So far, not so much.

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