The Wrong Guy – Cold Springs Read Online Lauren Landish

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
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If someone told me they saw Jed Ford cooing sweet nothings, I’d have laughed my ass off. Hell, I’m seeing it with my own eyes and still don’t believe it. But as they press their open lips together again, I clear my throat pointedly, afraid I might see even more than I want to if I don’t interrupt them again. Thankfully, they stop.

“Ahem, that’s the surprise I have for you . . . Lucy is going to be the on-site security here.” He winks cartoonishly, his mouth open and eye spasming. “Obviously, it’s in name only, but she’ll be here if anything hinky goes on.”

“Uh . . . what?” There should be more running through my head right now, but that’s all I got . . . “What?”

Jed talks to me like what he’s proposing is completely logical and I’m slow for not coming up with it myself. “With everything going on”—he raises his brows, and I take it to mean the situations with Chrissy and Lucy—“I want to have some type of security here when the crews aren’t on-site. Just in case.”

I wonder if he thinks Chrissy is going to go crazy and burn the place to the ground or something. “And you think Lucy is the right person to provide this security?” I repeat, looking at the young woman who’s resting her hands on her belly and staring at Jed like he hung the moon and she can’t wait to climb him like a tree again. “Out here?”

“It’s perfect. I want Lucy close to me, and this town house is sitting here empty. Bada-bing, bada-boom,” Jed claims. He jiggles Lucy in his tight grip, grinning lasciviously at her.

He cannot be serious. There are so many reasons why that’s a bad idea, starting with . . .

“We don’t have a certificate of occupancy . . .” What I really want to say is, Have you lost your fucking mind? but I’m aiming for reasonable and legal, both to protect my ass and so I don’t piss off my boss.

Jed waves a hand dismissively. “Pshaw, that’s only important if someone’s living here. Lucy’s staying on-site as an em . . . ploy . . . ee.” Boop. Boop. Boop. He touches the tip of her nose with his thick finger as he drawls out the word and then soothes the tender boops with a kiss.

Holy hell, he’s actually paying her to “stay” here, I realize. Jed’s balls must be bigger than basketballs, and Lucy must not have the faintest idea what she’s walking into with Jed and, more importantly, Chrissy.

I make a note to triple-check all foundation pour sites for any errant disturbed dirt because I’m not going to be the site lead who ends up in jail because someone else—ahem, Chrissy—decided to hide their dead bodies on my job site.

I’ve worked for Jed Ford long enough to know that arguing with him once he’s made up his mind is an exercise in futility. He once argued for weeks about whether we could build a catwalk walkway across a two-story foyer, which would’ve been possible if he’d been willing to also pay for the support beam to do so. But he didn’t want to pay, and I didn’t want the walkway to come crashing down on any foreseeable day and time in the future. It’d still taken the structural engineer to squash Jed’s idea because he wouldn’t listen to me, despite my experience having built hundreds of houses.

And he sure as fuck wasn’t smooching and petting his crew and contractors the way he is Lucy. Whether this is her idea or his, this is a done deal, and the sooner I get on board, the better off my life will be. And the less therapy I’ll need from seeing Jed Ford’s obvious erection in his jeans.

“Uhm, well . . . I’ll let everyone know this town house is off-limits so no crew member comes in. Shouldn’t be a problem, since it’s completed anyway. But better safe than sorry. If you need anything, let me know. I’m always on-site, and Jed can give you my cell number.” I nod to Jed, making sure that’s cool with him.

“See, it’s all good, like I told you,” Jed purrs, and Lucy makes some sort of mewling sound that I think is supposed to be cute, but turns my stomach. “It’ll be like camping . . . sharing a sleeping bag . . .”

Before I can stop it, I get a mental image of them wrestling in a single sleeping bag like two huge, sweaty wildebeests. Oh my gawd . . . No!

“I’ll get going and leave you two to . . .” I trail off and finish, “Later!”

I’m almost free when Jed calls after me. “Hey! By the way, how long you boys got left on the street you’re on?”


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