Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

idea of running a panini lunch buffet, and she’s got a line out the door. So the grill guys are going nuts. How’s the house?”

“Man, how big is your bank account?” I ask, gulping down the sweet clean air of the backyard. It’s a total mess too, but at least the smell isn’t so bad. “Actually, check that. I know you could afford it. But if you want my best advice, get a couple of Molotov cocktails because this house needs to be burned down and rebuilt. It’d be faster and cheaper than trying to fix it.”

“That bad, huh?”

A squeaking noise behind me reminds me of another thing, and I’m glad that I always wear some old military surplus combat boots when I go into places like this. “I’m not even joking about how bad this place is structurally. And it’s got rats, not mice, fucking Lower East Side sewer-size rats in the kitchen. You owe me for this one. I’m gonna need two showers to wash the stench off. And I’m thinking of burning this shirt.”

I can hear the wheels whirring in his mind. It’s what I respect about Oliver. Some people, they’d be pissed off that the house is so much worse than advertised. He isn’t. He knows how to make a profit on this deal no matter what. “You up for lunch? If I smell another panini being grilled right now, I’m gonna lose it. Meet me at the taco stand over by the hotel in ten so we can stay outside. And I’ll stay upwind of you.”

I laugh. “Hey, at least you can see what a real man smells like instead of that fancy cologne shit Mindy has you wearing. But I’ll take the tacos. See ya in ten.”

Oliver laughs, and we hang up. Walking around the house to avoid upsetting the local rodents, I peel off my shirt and toss it into my tool carrier. I was serious about ditching the damn thing. I grab the bottle of antiseptic gel I keep in my glove box for emergencies and squirt my entire chest and arms. It’ll dry out my skin some, but it’ll at least cut the smell and make sure I don’t get some funky ass fungal growth. I get my upper body as best I can before discreetly getting my balls and deciding that’s enough. Pulling on my spare t-shirt, an old high school football shirt that’s seen better days but still keeps a sentimental place in my rotation, I drive over to the taco truck that’s a mainstay in the downtown area near the Grand Waterways Hotel and Park. Oli’s there a few minutes later, pulling up in his new car, a Lexus GX in silver gray.

“I see you’re driving the soccer mom-mobile,” I greet him, slapping hands with him. “What, Mindy’s got the Ferrari?”

He’s never had a Ferrari. He wouldn’t blow his money on something like that, but he laughs. “Yeah, well, it’s still stylin’. Come on, the tacos are on me.”

The taco truck’s famous around town for their fried shrimp tacos, and we get two each. Finding a spot on a nearby planter to sit down, I take a moment to inhale the aroma and to just enjoy the warm day. Now it’s time to eat.

“So tell me about the place,” Oliver says after we’ve both stuffed our faces. “I mean, I get your point. Firebombing the place would be easiest, but that’s not exactly what I can put in an email without having the police knock on the door.”

I fill Oliver in, and he winces. “Trust me, man, best thing to do would be to raze the place and start over. I’d bet even the foundation’s screwed up.”

“Okay,” Oliver says casually. When I don’t reply, he laughs. “Caleb, I know it’s not because you’re bullshitting me or being lazy. If you say it can’t be renovated as is without being massively expensive, then that’s what the deal is. Okay, it’s settled. When I go back, I’ll call the heavy equipment guys. You got another job lined up this afternoon?” Oliver asks, and I smirk. “Figured you were getting busy.”

“It’s not bad once you get past your mom’s friends trying to get a little extra sugar to go with their repair work,” I reply before telling him about Mrs. Barnes trying to seduce me with lemonade and cookies. “But other than that . . . business is booming.”

Oliver chuckles. “Good, good, but what else you got going on, man? Every time we talk, you’re about work. Rewiring this, tiling that, painting the other. What else is going on? You too busy working to get out?”

If there’s anything about Oli that’s a pain in the ass, it’s his insistence on being a big brother to me. I get it. With Tony gone and Oli being a father now, he’s got that instinct going strong in him, but damn, he can get a little nosy sometimes. “I literally just told you I’m getting propositions left and right, even with snacks! What about you and Mindy? Are the kids keeping y’all up all night still?”

Oli drops it. He can see I’m not in the mood, and besides, he can’t pass up the chance to gush about the kids. “They’re doing great, man. You gotta see them with their Grandma when she visits. It’s pure comedy. It seems weird to think that we’ve got one starting preschool soon, though. Man, I’m telling you, you need to get one of your own. They’re a hoot!”

Oliver stops, seeing the expression on my face, and I know he’s seeing the warning flash in my eyes before he covers his faux pas with a smile. I let it go and give him a grin back. “Kids aren’t in my future, or at least, no time soon. That’s why I love to spoil yours rotten . . . and then send them back. I’m fun Uncle Caleb who lets them eat cake for breakfast, stay up all night, and