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

and act like an adult, though, because I need to go over tile choices for the bathrooms with Cassie. They have to be ordered and there’s a few weeks’ lead time to get them in, so I’ve got to talk to her . . . tonight. Whether her not showing up is through my fault or hers—and yeah, it’s mostly mine—I have to heal this rift.

Running my fingers through my hair, I dial her number and listen to the rings, not sure if I’m hoping for voicemail or for her to answer. When I get the recording, I’m disappointed . . . guess that answers that. I leave a stammering message. ”Hey, Cass. I, uh . . . need you to make some decisions so I can, uh . . . order supplies. Can you swing by tonight on your way home? Or, shit, I just remembered your car’s still here. Gimme a call and I’ll come get you. I’ll be here ‘till six thirty or so. Yeah, so . . . see ya.” I hang up, shaking my head. “You are such a fucking dumbass, Caleb. Swing by, when her car’s out back. Why not just hit yourself in the head with your hammer? Or better yet, smack yourself in the dick. You’re thinking with it too much.”

It’s true. For the past few days, I can’t get my mind off Cassie. Maybe it’s that I’ve spent a lot of time in her house, but it feels like more than that. From the moment I saw her come into Oliver’s office that morning, it’s been like a switch was thrown in my head. She’s more than just a cool girl, the girl I can throw taunts and jokes at without worrying about being taken the wrong way. Now . . . fuck it, I want her. Not as a friend, not as a jogging buddy.

I want to have Cassie. I want to feel her ass in my hands, to run my lips along the curve of her neck, to feel her wrap her body around my cock and make her moan and squeal as I send shockwaves through her body. I’ve thought about fucking her in passing before, but now I crave it.

Whatever. It’s not gonna happen. If it were, it would have long before now. Besides, I’ve got shit to do today. I don’t have time to worry about some damn crush or whatever this is. So back to work. After I cut the supports over the master bedroom, I delayed on the installation, hoping that Cassie could be here to help me out. Instead, I’ve focused mostly on demo the last few days, making the house look like a shell inside. There are walls with no drywall, just the studs allowing you to see from one room to the next. And today is kitchen day. It’s a full gut job too, but I’m going to try to save the cabinets to donate. They’re not in bad shape, just dated, and they don’t work for the open floor plan Cassie has in mind. Saving might be the right thing to do, but it’s not the fast way.

I almost wish I could just roll in and swing my sledgehammer and knock some shit around. Flat-out mindless destruction always does wonders for the mood. The high after going apeshit on an old brick wall or fence is nearly godlike. Giving it a thought for a moment, I know I’m not doing that. Cassie’d be mad, and I’d be mad at myself later. With a big sigh, I head into the kitchen, turn on some tunes on my portable boom box, and get started. Hopefully, I can have it all empty before Cassie comes by tonight . . . if she does.

I get the stove and water heater outside using my dolly, loading them into the trailer that I’m using to haul stuff to the scrapyard. But working alone is hard, even with a heavy-duty dolly. I have to muscle both of them inside the trailer, and it takes up a chunk of time. By the time I’m done, I’m covered in sweat again, and I peel off my shirt, wishing that the water were on in the house. I could really use a hosedown right now, but all I’ve got is about a gallon and a half of unsweetened tea in a cooler. Instead, I use a towel to wipe down and go back inside.

I start carefully unscrewing the cabinets from the walls, carrying them one by one out to the curb for the donation truck to grab them later this week. It’s finicky work. Some of the cabinets are long, and it takes time to make sure I don’t just tear an anchor out of the wall, damaging either a cabinet or the support post behind it.

Still, I make progress, and hours later, the kitchen is well on its way to being stripped. I’m squatted down, head under the sink, unscrewing the drain pipes so I can remove the last section of cabinets, when I hear a loud noise behind me. The unexpected sound makes me jump, and before I can stop myself, the bottom of my head smacks into the sink with a resounding BONG! that leaves me seeing stars. There’s a faint taste of blood in my mouth where I bit my lip.

I hear unsuccessfully suppressed giggles even as stars swim in front of my eyes, and I know who it is. I ease my way out from under the cabinet, holding the back of my head. “Holy fuck, Cass, you scared the shit out of me!”

She laughs, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s still in her work clothes, looking sleek and professional in her white silk blouse and slim burgundy slacks. Her sky-high heels add several inches to her tiny frame, bringing her face even closer to mine. As I peruse her body, I wonder for a moment how she got out here. “You deserved it