Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 113741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Trent took the side stairs, two at a time, down to the basement, relieved to find no one there. Every one of his thoughts stayed centered on how hot Gage truly was in person. He walked straight to the panel box, opened the door, and looked blankly at the black breakers staring back at him. Chiding himself for how quickly he lost track of his reason for being there, he pulled his clipboard forward and lifted the pages attached to the giant silver clip at the top. On the inside of the steel clipboard, his kids had taped photographs of them all with sweet words of love scribbled on them. He always carried this clipboard and when times got hard, he flipped the pages up to help focus him back on why he did what he did. It did the trick and he forced his mind back on the job. He did a mental sweep over the breakers, the sizes and the brand. Fuck!
The old, outdated panel box stared back at him, mocking him with its low amperage. Of course, it wasn’t the size or brand as outlined on the specs. It would have made this job way too easy if it were. Taking a deep breath at this jewel of a find, Trent squared his shoulders and mentally calculated the voltage this box would reasonably hold in its current state and knew in his heart it wouldn’t be good enough. How in the hell did he get to be the first one to discover this huge problem in the remodel?
He tapped his pencil on the clipboard, going over his math of the voltage in the current panel box one last time. A deep pent up breath finally released, one he hadn’t realized he held. Things for this job just fell into place too smoothly. He should have known nothing could be that easy. A panel replacement would seriously mess up the schedule for completion. Hell, maybe that was why he got the job in the first place. This kind of pending disaster would need a scapegoat and who better than the electrician?
Going between the panel box and his paper, Trent made notes and tallied the estimated amperage needed to run this place effectively based on average daily usage. Damn it! No way would this current box hold everything. The air conditioning alone would trip the lights and the office might not ever work properly. The city would never allow a final permit with this current box still in place. Fuck it if this wasn’t going to cost in both time and money.
“From where I’m standing, an electrician looks to be a very sexy job… All those tool belts and hard hats… How does one go about becoming an electrical contractor?” Gage asked from directly behind Trent. Trent could feel the guy’s breath running along his neck. It startled him; he hadn’t heard Gage coming down the stairs or across the room. To have him simply materialize like this shook him to the core, and his body reacted with a jolt, hardening quickly back to painful degrees. He kept his eyes on the clipboard, only closing them for one long moment, before opening them again, staring down, but seeing nothing.
“It’s a family deal. My father was an electrician. Union,” Trent responded in almost a croak. He lowered his brow and narrowed his eyes, mouthing the words he’d just said, wondering where such a stupid response might have come from. He scribbled on the clipboard, went over a few of the numbers with his pencil, but it was all a charade masking the sexual tension rolling through him. Finally, he lifted his head to stare blankly at the breakers in the panel box. If this were the pickup it felt like, Gage would have to make the first move. No way could he give back the sexy banter or the hot come on lines needed to seal this deal.
“Mmmm… You own your own business?” Gage asked. No mistaking the step in the guy took or the hard dick slightly pressing against his ass. The sensation sent goose bumps prickling up Trent’s arms and his heart picked up several beats, beginning a slow steady thumping in his chest. He stood cornered with no place to hide, so he didn’t try, but leaned toward the panel box, needing distance between them. Trent flipped through the pages of his clipboard to the pictures of his children and begged his brain to remember why he stood there! Everything has a separate compartment in my life for a reason. Remember that reason. Don’t blow it now, Trent Cooper.
“I can take care of what’s going on in those brand new Levi’s of yours, handsome. There’s a bathroom attached to my office. Meet me there, it’s discreet.” Trent felt Gage’s hand snake across his hip, slide down the front of his jeans, and moments passed before he remembered to breathe. His eyes closed at the feel of the graze Gage gave his rock hard dick. And then both of Gage’s hands slid down over his ass, gripping each ass cheek. It took him a minute to speak and when he did, he forced the images of his children into his mind. The strength of his voice surprised him.
“I’m not interested. I don’t roll that way,” Trent said. Saying it aloud somehow gave him the continued strength to step out from under the mind-blowing touches and turn back around to face Gage.
“The panel box is gonna be a problem. I need to check the units out on the roof, but it’s not gonna be big enough to hold all the power you need. It’s also not what was on the specs given to me. This one will only hold up to about a hundred and fifty amps. You need at least half more. It’s also extremely outdated.” With each word said, Trent turned back into the professional he berated himself for not being since first meeting Gage Synclair. As he spoke, the basement door opened above. The curator now stood at the top of the stairs, poking her head down. Trent’s eyes darted up, making eye contact with her, relieved they were no longer alone. If Gage would have made another move, his resolve would surely break and this would be a far different game he played.