Murphy’s Law Read online Riley Hart (Havenwood #2)

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Havenwood Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
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He cleared his throat. “Yeah, me either.” I looked over at him. “Obviously, I’ve seen the sun come up too—I’m at work early every day—but it’s different. I don’t take it in, and outside of work, I definitely don’t choose to get up at that time. But then, I always thought it was a little crazy. I like my sleep, man.” Law winked, and I laughed.

“See, I always knew there was something wrong with you.”

“Because I like my sleep?” he teased back.

“There’s a long list. Should I start with reason number one?”

He picked up this old throw pillow from a box and threw it at me. Bear went running after it like it was a toy, sniffed it, then went back to his lounging spot under a tree.

“We’re throwing things at each other now?” I asked, enjoying the momentary ease between us.

“Only when you deserve it.” Law pointed to the shed. “Now get back to work, slow-ass.”

“Yes, sir,” I said playfully.

We finished the shed, only taking a few small breaks to go to the bathroom or get water for Bear. From there, we hauled the keep pile and the donate pile to the garage, and covered the trash pile with a tarp.

“I’ll call and get someone to haul it.”

“I can help with whatever,” Law said. “I have a truck. You should order one of those large dumpsters. You’ll probably need that.”

He pulled his shirt over his head and wiped the sweat from his face. His chest glistened, and again I was reminded how fucking gorgeous he was.

My eyes darted away. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Listen…do you want to come in? I can order some pizza for dinner. It’s the least I can do.”

For a moment I thought he would say no. Part of me was pretty sure he thought he would say no, but then he nodded slowly. “Is Bear invited too?”

“Of course.”

He perked up at that, and the three of us went inside. Law told me the name of the one and only place that delivered pizza, and I ordered, then put a bowl of water down on the floor for Bear.

“God, this place is a beauty,” he said, walking around the living room. I’d forgotten he wanted it.

“Did you want to move here instead of your place?”

“No. I wanted both. I love the land. I figured I could fix this place up and maybe rent it out? I don’t know.”

I wondered if he still cooked. What he did.

Still, I didn’t ask him about any of it. I still felt too raw around him, and friends or not, I needed to protect myself. “I didn’t know you wanted it.”

“How could you have?” His brows pulled together. “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. I have my café, and I sure as shit didn’t have money to buy this place or to do anything with it. Just a pipe dream.”

So there was my answer. He did cook. I wasn’t surprised in the least. “Your parents…”

“Nah, not my thing. I don’t want to take money from them. It would come with strings. They still really want me to be part of Grant’s.”

“But you’re not. You have a café,” I reiterated, and then it hit home. He had enjoyed cooking, but I’d never known he wanted a restaurant. I’d only known he hadn’t wanted Grant’s.

“Yeah, it’s perfect for me. It’s a breakfast and lunch place, farm to table. All local. It’s a hole-in-the-wall, and shit breaks all the time, but it’s mine, ya know?”

No, I didn’t. Not really. I didn’t have anything like that of my own. “Yeah,” I replied. “You want a drink?”

“Got a beer?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Water will do.”

Law walked around, examining the room, the bare amount of furniture, my guitar in the stand.

“Once I get rid of the stuff in the garage, I’ll move most of this out and start replacing the hardwood floors.”

Law’s brows rose almost to his hairline. “Are you fucking kidding me? They’re gorgeous, Rem. Don’t change them. All you have to do is sand them down, stain them, and they’ll be good to go.”

Well, shit. That made sense.

“Oh my God. I’m going to kick your ass. Please don’t get rid of these floors.”

“I won’t.”

He smiled, and then I smiled, and it was…well, fucking ridiculous. I jumped when there was a knock on the door.

The pizza arrived, and we ate. I’d hoped he would stay longer, but when we finished, he said, “I should go.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Give me your phone.”

I tugged it out of my pocket and handed it over. The hairs on my arm stood on end, the moment so damn familiar from when he’d given me his phone number the first time. He typed, then handed it back. “You can call me. I’m off tomorrow. Let me know if you need some help around here.”


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