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

Right now, it’s going to rot. I need to do this. I know that puts me starting off on the wrong foot. I know I’m using my emotions more than my brain on this, but that house deserves better than what’s happening to it now. I’ll put in work myself, elbow grease and sweat and blood and whatever else it needs. Please.”

Oli looks at Caleb, who looks back. Both of them are definitely surprised by the vehemence in my voice. I know I’m sounding a little whacked over this, and yeah, I’m breaking rule number one of property investment, which is you make decisions with your calculator, not with your heart. I’m normally a perky upbeat smartass, so I’m sure this is a shock. But seeing 614 Douglas, I have to do this. Because there’s more than just good memories there. There are bad ones too, bad memories that aren’t the house’s fault, and I want to exorcise those demons from the house and from my soul. I want to sweep them away, leaving behind just the little seedling that’s in the bottom of my heart.

Oliver looks at Caleb again, then at me. “Caleb? How much time can you clear over the next two months on your schedule?”Caleb

At Oliver’s question, I knew the inevitability of the situation. It was like watching fate at work. After Cassie’s pleading, he had to give in. I got the call while I was at the Portnoys’, cleaning up from painting their fence before heading over to the Roberts house to take care of her garage roof, where her son had somehow put a croquet ball through the roof.

Of course Oliver had his misgivings, he told me. He still made it clear that it was a risky investment, but he’d do it for her if she got it at the right price. And since I’m the handyman he trusts, he wants me to at least give her a heads-up on what all this place needs. So here I am, driving to meet her at her childhood home.

Normally, I’d be calling it a day and heading home by this point, two fat checks and a nice wad of cash in my pocket and nothing on my mind but grabbing a shower. Instead, I’m driving all the way into the next county to meet Cassie and the homeowner to do a quick walkthrough.

Pulling up, I can see the sun setting behind the house and it does look nice. Of course, that’s probably because it’s mostly in shadow and you can’t see the porch hanging on by a thread that was readily obvious in the pictures this morning. Cassie’s memories are seriously giving her rose-tinted goggles on this, I suspect, but I’ll do my best to help her out.

I pull around back to the dooryard and see a backyard that’s half jungle, half fire ant hill, and I cringe some more. The pecan trees are nice, though. I can see Cassie and an older man standing inside. Parking my truck, I walk to the door, carefully stepping over the suspicious-looking steps on the way up. It looks like more than the front porch will have to be replaced.

Opening the screen, I step inside. Cassie stops mid-sentence and stares at me, her mouth half hanging open in surprise. I realize that I might be a little unsightly after a day of work. I’m sure my hair is messy from running my fingers through it, my shirt has been wet then dried multiple times today—and it probably smells like a locker room—and my hands are still dirty from the roofing patch. Figuring I’d better start off on the right foot since she’s with the owner, I hold my smartass comment about rendering her speechless and put an embarrassed smile on my face. Besides, he knows why I’m here. I don’t need to be freshly shaven and wearing a suit.

“Hey, Cassie, sorry I’m late. Just finished up for the day and got here as fast as I could.” To the man, who doesn’t look that put-out at all, I give a respectful nod. “I’d offer my hand, sir, but you probably don’t want it. I’m Caleb Strong. I contract with Steele Solutions.”

Cassie still hasn’t said a word, and I wonder for an instant if I’ve somehow offended her by showing up not smelling like Head & Shoulders. The man notices it, too, and breaks the silence. “Hello, I’m Frank Wannamaker. And don’t worry, I’ve heard about you. I have a church friend who’s mentioned you—Rebecca Miller?”

“Mrs. Miller?” I say, then smile. She’s one of my favorite clients, friendly and professional with no funny business. The four days I was repairing her wall, I got lunch and ice cold tea almost every hour. “I hope her wall’s doing well. Laying stone is an interesting challenge compared to brick.”

Finally, after an awkward moment, Cassie shakes her head and returns to her speech. She’s apparently discussing comp values and the sales price he’s asking. I can quickly tell that Mr. Wannamaker is slightly overwhelmed but charmed at the same time. “Miss White, let’s sit down,” he finally says. “This wasn’t really my house, but my brother’s. When he decided to move down to Costa Rica to join some retirement community, I bought it off him to make sure he was taken care of. So I just want to get my money out of it.”

Reassured that Cassie’s got Frank well under control, I raise my voice. “Excuse me, Cassie. Do you mind if I look around a bit while y’all talk? Let me get an idea of what needs done?”

When she nods, I wander off, walking through to the kitchen. I can still hear Cassie talking and laugh to myself. She’s gonna get this house at a great price and he’s not gonna know what hit him. She’s in full-blown Cassie Charmer mode. Yeah, that’s what she calls it when she’s in the zone. She’s mixing in giggles, little jokes, and business talk in this