Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
But, as much as I hate the way this town is and some of the people, I grew up never wanting to leave. I couldn't imagine trying to join the rat race in the city where I don't know anyone and the status quo is to step on others to be successful.
The guys are already hard at work on our latest project, building a gazebo for a newer resident in town. They came from the city but have made a point to only hire locally and spend their money in town, and those are the kind of folks we like to see settling into town, people who want to slow down and become part of the community rather than those who want to change it.
"Is there a problem?" I ask as I approach the crew, who are all standing in a semi-circle.
Ethan, my crew lead, looks over his shoulder, and I recognize the look in his eyes as frustration. He steps to the side to reveal a young woman, and although I've never seen her, the snarl on her face and the way she has her hands on her hips tells me she isn't a happy camper either.
"Hi," I say as I pass off the box of cupcakes to Donnie, who then loses all interest in what's going on in favor of getting first pick. "I'm Mac Hammer."
I hold my hand out to her, feeling a little pissed when she stares down at the thing for the briefest of moments before shaking it.
"Is there a problem?"
"It's eight in the morning," she says. "Why are they here so early?"
"It's time for work," I explain. "May I ask who you are?"
"I live here," she says, pointing over her shoulder at the house.
"It's my understanding that Mr. and Mrs. Drocer live here. They scheduled this job while they were on vacation, so it would be easier for us to get it done without getting in the way."
"I'm Callie Drocer," she explains. "Their daughter."
I tilt my head, confusion beginning to tug in my mind.
"I was assured the home would be empty," I explain.
"I'm... This is my parents' home, and I live here now." She rushes the words out as if she really doesn't want to explain herself.
I'm in no position to get into anyone's business because I don't want them in mine.
"We've been contracted to build this gazebo by your parents’ house," I explain. "We'll be here the rest of the week. Our workday starts at eight in the morning."
She sighs, her hand once again going to her hip, making her look even more out of place.
It's clear that she either had a late night or she just didn't bother with taking off her makeup because it's smudged under her eyes.
"Fine," she snaps before turning to walk back toward the back porch of the home.
I look over at Ethan, but my eyes land on Ronnie, whose eyes are locked on her ass as she walks away.
"No," I snap at him, but the man can't even wipe the smile off his face when his eyes meet mine. "We don't date customers."
"Her parents are the customer," he clarifies, his grin growing wider.
"For fuck's sake," I mutter before walking back to my truck to get my hard hat.
Chapter 23
Riley
I nearly squealed in delight when Sage shot me a text message late yesterday evening asking if I was available to work at the store today. She had an appointment she forgot about, and she had to leave town early and couldn't open the store on time. I jumped on it immediately, and it had more to do with getting out of my own house and avoiding Mac than the need for income.
I realize how crazy it is to not want to be home because someone else was staying there, but I also know I can't just ask the man to leave, not after seeing the destruction in his kitchen yesterday.
Damn. I don't even want to think about yesterday. Not the sex, not the shower, not the aftermath.
I know I acted like a child, ignoring him and pretending he didn't exist, but there was no way for my brain to work through what he said. He claimed I was like an addiction for him, and it didn't sound like he was very happy about it at all, so there's only one way to break such a bad habit for someone, and that's to not give them what they crave, no matter how much I crave him as well.
This has gotten way too complicated when all it was supposed to be was a quick romp after a very bad day, but the soup getting thrown in my face, which put me at the bar that night, seems like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since then, enough so that it has distracted me from my own goals in life because I've been infatuated and overrun by thoughts of him.