Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I say nervously as I follow her to the stairs.
We pass the kitchen and I peek in.
There’s a melted ice pack on the counter and a few empty cans of beer by the sink. It’s a beautifully made kitchen, but there’s something sad about it. Maybe it’s the closed blinds making it all dark or the fact that there are no fun magnets or anything else on the refrigerator. I just wish it had a vase of flowers on the table or some cute hand-painted signs hanging on the walls. All of the walls are painted gray and there’s nothing on them.
You’re here for the closets, I tell myself. Not for the rest of the house.
Alina opens the door to the basement and I head down with her. Down here is even sadder. It’s just a bunch of gym equipment, punching bags, and hockey equipment lying around.
“Nice, right?” Alina says with a laugh when she sees my face. “That’s just Tucker. You’ll understand when you meet him.”
I don’t think I want to meet him.
Wait, that’s not fair. I’m just nervous. I always try to give everyone a chance.
Everyone deserves that at least.
“Wow,” I whisper when I see the bar on the bench press. There’s so much weight on it that I’m surprised the whole thing hasn’t collapsed. I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be that strong.
“The room is back here,” Alina says as she walks around a monstrous steel contraption and waves me over.
“Oh,” I say when I walk into the room. There’s a bare mattress on the floor with a messy sleeping bag on it. Nothing else. Not even curtains on the window. “This is the guest room?”
“I can’t imagine Tucker has many guests,” Alina says as she opens the closet. We both wince when we look inside. There’s a rusty steel bar running along the inside to hang clothes on and nothing else. Two sad-looking bent-up hangers are hanging on the pole.
“Ready to start job number one?” Alina asks with a flick of her eyebrows. She holds up the power drill and pushes the button twice. Dizz. Dizz. “The first of many, I hope.”
“Let’s do it!”
I get in there and hold the bar as Alina unscrews it.
“I’m thinking Red Oak for in here,” she says as she moves to the other side and starts unscrewing. “A shelving unit here. Some drawers. We want it functional yet stylish too.”
We’re in the process of hiring our own crew from the area. I’ve already been collecting resumes.
Once we design the closets, our boss Mr. Seinfeld is going to send an experienced crew from Colorado to help us train the new guys and get the closets installed.
“Careful,” Alina says when the bar comes loose. I grab it and accidentally bang it against the wall a few times before I can maneuver it out. It clatters when I drop it on the floor.
“What’s his budget for all this?” I ask as Alina surveys the inside.
“Oh shit, I forgot to ask.”
We hear heavy stomping coming down the stairs and we both turn to the door with a gulp.
“Boy, did you pick the wrong fucking house to rob!” a deep booming voice bellows out.
We both take a step back as we hear Tucker’s thunderous footsteps approaching fast.
He suddenly appears in the doorway, filling all of it with his massive body. I gasp in shock when I see him. He’s terrifying.
His giant hands are squeezed into fists so big they look like they could crush rock. His gray bathrobe is swung open and he’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts underneath. I can’t stop my startled eyes from roaming up him. His muscular thighs are the thickest I’ve ever seen. His stomach has a bit of softness but also a bit of definition too. My eyes linger for a second on his huge chest that’s covered in hair before moving up to his face.
Oh my.
He’s swollen and bloody and bruised and looks like he just suffered through a long night of pain. My heart aches when I see the damage all over it.
“Tucker!” Alina says in a cheery yet strained voice. “Nice to see you again. Remember me, Alina? Sebastian’s fiancée? I’m here to get started on your closets.”
He narrows his cold brown eyes on her and grunts. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
“We rang the buzzer at the gate,” she says with a big wide smile. “We didn’t think you were home! Sorry!”
“It’s nine in the morning, where the hell else would I be?”
“You don’t have to be mean.” I say it before I can stop myself.
Those intense brown eyes settle on me for the first time. I fight the instinctive urge to step back, and instead, I straighten my spine and stare back at him.
I can’t read his expression, mostly because his face is all messed up. The bridge of his nose is swollen and one of his eyes is so red and puffy, it’s almost closed. He has a fat lip and some more red marks and bruises on his cheeks and forehead.