The Contractor (Red’s Tavern #8) Read Online Raleigh Ruebins

Categories Genre: M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Red's Tavern Series by Raleigh Ruebins
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
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He looked at me with a longing in those pretty blue eyes, and I swore my heart hurt a little just seeing it.

“I’ll talk to the other guys and see if I can arrange coverage for that week. I’d have to be on call the whole trip, obviously—”

“Of course,” I said, excitement bubbling up inside me. “And I’d be there to help you field any calls, too, of course. But god damn, I want you to come visit.”

He paused a beat, nodding his head. “Then I’ll make it happen. For you.”

“I think you’re going to love it there,” I said. “Maybe we’ll get some local doughnuts there that’ll convince you to move out there with me.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “I do need a bit of a vacation.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the man of your dreams out there, too.”

He glanced at me, shaking his head. “I’ll just be there for you, Tris. That’s all I’ll want, anyway. Now can you help me with a few invoices before we head out to the Henderson property?”

“Let’s grind them out,” I said.

As we worked, I found myself focusing on things that I’d never focused on before with Jack. How long his eyelashes were, how bright the blues of his eyes could look in the morning light. The way the thick muscles in his forearm looked as he reached for paperwork across the table. His fucking smell, so fresh and masculine at the same time, laundry mixed with the faint scent of his clean hair.

And god damn, the way he pinned his lip between his teeth as he worked, focusing hard as ever on his invoices.

Was it because of the dream? Because of our drunken kiss? Or because I was moving away, and I knew damn well that before long, I wouldn’t get to see him in quiet moments like this anymore?

All I knew was that somewhere deep inside, it felt like something had been kicked loose. Something I wasn’t really in control of, leading me somewhere, and I had no idea what to do other than follow my instincts.

Jack had been the one to help me realize I had instincts worth following, anyway.

5

JACK

“What day is it again?” Tristan asked me idly as he thumbed through the papers in front of him.

“Friday,” I said, reaching for my toolbelt and pulling out my Phillips screwdriver, tightening one of the brackets behind the floating bookshelves we’d installed.

“How is that possible?” he murmured softly. “That means it’s been two weeks since I got back here.”

“It means you better be packed and ready for our trip to Colorado tomorrow,” I said.

Tris glanced up at me, the hint of a smile on his face. “You think I’d forget that? I can’t wait to fight your ass for the window seat on the plane.”

My chest tightened already at the thought of being on a plane. Nobody could get my ass on a plane, but for Tristan, I’d agreed.

“Y’all taking a trip tomorrow?” Bob asked. Bob was Tristan’s realtor, currently sitting across from him at his living room coffee table. The home appraiser had come by today to do a walk-through on Tristan’s house, making sure it was ready to put up for sale, and Bob was showing Tristan through the necessary pre-sale paperwork.

“Flying out to Jade River, Colorado.”

“Whereabouts is that?” Bob asked.

“Little town a bit west of Denver, in the Rockies,” Tristan answered. “It’s where I’m from.”

“Beautiful country out there,” Bob answered with a whistle.

“I don’t know why we’re flying when we could road trip,” I said.

“Because the road trip is eight hours long even if you’re cruising,” Tristan said, lifting an eyebrow at me. “And I know you. You always want to make ten stops along the way, anytime you see so much as a dirt mound you think is pretty.”

“He’s full of shit,” I told Bob. “I don’t stop for dirt mounds. Only dirt hills.”

Bob chuckled before the two of them got lost again in his paperwork.

Two weeks had already passed since our night at Red’s. The night he’d kissed me, because he was a fucking crazy person, and I’d loved every second of it because it turned out I was also a crazy person.

Crazy for him, at least.

We hadn’t talked about the kiss since, but every time I saw him, the memory of it lingered at the back of my mind. After our night at Red’s, the past couple of weeks had been a blur of work and logistics. There were quite a few straggling home projects that Tristan needed to work on before he could sell his place, and in between our paid jobs, we’d squeeze in time at his little house. We restained the back deck. We fixed up more than a few broken solar lights in the front yard. We finally fixed the lock on the window that we’d broken two years ago now, on a fun drunken night in November when Tristan had misplaced his keys.


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