Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
I shake my head. "He said the pipes were in great shape."
"Who was the inspector?"
"Um, Adam Sheffield."
"Fucking prick," he mutters, scowling. "I'd take the inspection paperwork to a lawyer and have them look it over. Chances are he's insured. You may be able to force his insurance to pay for some of these repairs since he failed to note any of this in his inspection report."
I bob my head in a nod, not really surprised the inspector wasn't completely honest. He didn't seem like he wanted to be here in the first place. And I'm pretty sure he was high when he was out here. He reeked of pot.
"I have to be at a job site in about an hour, but I can come back this evening and start pumping out water."
"Oh. Um, I can hire someone else."
"No, you can't. If George is out of town, I'm your only option, Sunshine."
I stare at him, dismayed. "But you have another job."
"You that eager to get rid of me, huh?"
"No."
"Liar," he says, chuckling. "You sick of me already, Sutton?"
"I didn't say that."
He chuckles again. "Good, because I'm coming back this evening. And I'm going to be here every fucking day until this project is done." He reaches out, tipping my chin back until my eyes meet his. "Get used to seeing a lot of me because you're stuck with me now, baby."
I gulp, swallowing hard.
Why does that sound like a threat? And more importantly, why do I not entirely hate the thought of being stuck with him?
"Don't look so disappointed. I promise not to bite." He flashes that devilish smirk at me. "Unless you want me to, anyway."
"Oh, my god. I haven't even hired you, and I'm already thinking about firing you," I growl.
"You can't fire me. You haven't even hired me." He cocks a brow at me, stripping off his coveralls. "Besides, I don't recall asking for your money, Sunshine. We can settle up if and when Sheffield's insurance pays."
I gape at him. "You are not doing this for free, Caleb!"
"We'll discuss it later."
"I'm capable of paying you."
"We'll figure it out later, baby."
"I'm a millionaire." My teeth sink into my bottom lip as a bolt of anxiety shoots through me. I probably shouldn't have said that. Keeping my identity under wraps will be a lot easier if I don't get people a reason to go looking me up. But I don't want him thinking I can't afford to pay him for his work. He may be annoying, but he deserves to be paid fairly.
He eyes me levelly. "You live in a six-figure house," he murmurs. "I didn't figure you were hurting for cash, Sunshine." Curiosity lights his eyes. "You do have me curious as a motherfucker now, though."
"Um, about what?" I ask, feigning ignorance.
"How does someone your age become a millionaire? You're what? Twenty—one? Twenty—two?"
"I'm twenty-three. And practice made me a millionaire," I retort. It's not really a lie. I did practice a lot. And I'm not even counting the money my parents have in a trust fund for me.
He smirks at me. "Seriously, Sunshine. What do you?"
"Just stuff," I lie, avoiding his gaze. "Clearly not plumbing since I can't even turn the water off. It's getting late. Or early. You should probably get to your job site."
My attempt to avoid answering the question is patently obvious, even to my own ears. I know he's not going to buy it. But I'm not a good liar. I never have been. So, I'm not even going to try. The best I can do is avoid the question for as long as possible and hope he gives up asking.
"Yeah, I probably should," he says, his voice soft.
I risk a glance up to find him watching me intently, his expression as soft as his voice. He knows I'm dodging the question, but he's decided to let me get away with it. At least for now. Judging by the look on his face, he has his reasons for that. I'm just not sure I'm ready to find out what they are. They seem a lot deeper than my plumbing issues.
Crap. I'm in way over my head here.
Chapter Three
Caleb
Istride across the construction site mid-afternoon, my heavy boots thudding against the gravel. The rays of the sun beat down on us, making sweat bead on our foreheads as we work under its harsh light. Dexter, Archer, and Levi are scattered about the site, their movements synchronized. They're a good group of guys, hard workers who don't shy away from a challenge.
As I approach Bishop and Jake, the owner of the company and the construction manager, I clear my throat. "Hey, I need to borrow some shit," I say, getting straight to the point.
Bishop arches a dark eyebrow at me. "What for?"
"Watson is out of town and the Taylor place flooded. There's ten inches of water in the crawlspace," I say, trying not to go into too much detail. The less they know about Sutton, the better.