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

I stick out my tongue, blowing Caleb a raspberry. He’s as handsome as ever, looking dressed for work, obviously, in his boots and t-shirt, with what looks like a nearly a pony keg of something in front of him on the desk, his personal drink holder that he takes coffee to work sites in. “No, smart ass. As if I want to get locked down into sandwich making for some dad bod who only surfs the couch. The house . . . I found THE HOUSE.”

It’s pretty clear by the tone of voice I used that I’m saying it all in capital letters, and Oliver’s eyebrows lift by a good half inch even as he leans back in his chair. “What house? Whatcha got?”

I take a deep breath and walk around Oliver’s desk, opening up my bag to hand him a flash card and some of the stuff I printed out last night. “It’s all on the sheet, but here’s the basics. It’s a three-bedroom converted farmhouse on a quiet street, two and a half baths. It could become a four-bedroom, but one of the rooms has been used as a home office and walk-in closet. It’s on a full acre of land, and there’s a huge tree out front begging to have a tire swing on it, and a front porch. It’s not quite a starter home. It’s a step up from that, but it’s the sort of home a young couple could raise a family in for the next twenty or thirty years if they wanted.”

Caleb whistles softly. “Sounds idyllic. What’s wrong with it?”

I glare at him. Way to cockblock me there, buddy. I’m so going to take it out on you if I get the chance. “Shush, I’m trying to create a mood here.” I look back at Oli, who’s giving me the same look, and I know I’ve got to get it together. I try to remember what the hell I was going to say with my speech and take a moment, opening my laptop and pulling up the pictures. “Here’s the house. I know it’s going to need some work—”

Oliver snorts as he scrolls through the shots. “Yeah, that’s not the house you just described. Other than the obvious, what’s it need?”

“It’s a For Sale by Owner. I talked with the owner last night, and he was really helpful. He emailed me an inspection he got when he moved out. First things first, the porch will have to be totally replaced. Apparently, the guy tried to use trailer jacks on it and screwed up. The interior needs to be cosmetically gutted. The paint’s at least eight years old, the kitchen lino over a decade.”

“Looks like a refugee from the seventies,” Caleb comments. “Lime green? Fuck, that’s horrible.”

“The whole place will need new flooring, but there’s a hidden jewel underneath,” I say. “I know for a fact that underneath the bad carpet in the rest of the house is real black walnut flooring. Sand it down and refinish it, and boom!”

“Black walnut flooring covered with carpet?” Oliver says wonderingly. “If it’s still good, that could be helpful. Still, what are the costs involved?”

I give him a rundown of the costs, showing him the Excel spreadsheet I worked up. Of course I don’t have exact numbers, but it’s a start. “Given the recent sale prices of properties in the area, I’d say the top price we could get on the sale is maybe three hundred thousand if we get an upswing in the area.”

Oliver nods and looks over the spreadsheet some more before sitting back and tapping at his lip thoughtfully. “I’m going to be honest with you, Cassie. I admire the enthusiasm, and you know I appreciate your eye for visualizing what this house could be. And it could be beautiful. I see the outside of the house and I see what you mean. But look at the numbers. That’s pretty tight profits. I’m not sure it’s something I want to take on right now when we have higher-percentage investments on the books.”

I shake my head, fire burning deep in my heart as I click back to the pictures. “I knew you’d be looking for higher-margin investments, and I have another we can talk later about too. But I can do this. I found it, researched it, and have outlined the project. I want to do it all, start to finish, and show you what I’m capable of. I obviously can’t afford it on my own, but I do have enough for the down payment, so I’ll have a stake in it. Just give me a chance, please?”

Caleb laughs lightly. “Think you’re ready to fly solo, baby bird? I could push you out of the nest myself if you want.” He gets up and reaches out with his long muscular arm to push me in the shoulder, but I hop to the side. He goes to follow but freezes when he sees the look in my eyes. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? What’s got you so fired up about this place in particular? By the time you get your profit, you’d probably have made more slinging frappes downstairs considering the number of hours it’s going to require.”

Oliver nods in agreement. “I don’t think so, Cassie. You might be ready, and I’m willing to let you try. But it’s not this project. Don’t you want a sure thing your first time out?”

I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest and putting on what I hope is my most stubborn look, although I’ve been told it looks pouty. I can’t help it. I have a natural worry line that looks cute, dammit! “Nope, I want this one.” I look from Oliver to Caleb and back, both of whom look less than impressed. “Look, it’s my house. The one I grew up in. I want to fix it up, make it pretty and functional so it gets the family it always deserved.