Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (classic literature books .TXT) 📗

for listening to Bon Jovi while you’re working. How old are you? Need me to get you a cane, Grandpa?”

“One, Bon Jovi is timeless and whips the shit out of half the acts out there today. Two, eighties rock fits right into my mood when I’m working like this, so get used to it. Besides, we’re close enough that we could have gone to high school together. So I’m more than young enough to throw you over my knee, brat.”

Cassie chuckles, and I hope for a moment that everything might just go back to normal, avoiding whatever awkwardness we had the other night. “Yeah, well, you’ve got an old soul then, Caleb. Where’d you leave your steel horse, cowboy?”

I laugh. “See, I knew you liked Bon Jovi. You probably know every word to the song you’re making fun of me for listening to.” I pause, seeing if she’ll agree or disagree, but she just sticks her tongue out at me. “How’d you get here anyway?”

“Oliver’s babysitter, Emily, gave me a ride. Her best friend lives out this way, so she didn’t mind. And I need to get my damn car anyway.”

I know Emily. She’s a nice girl, just a little shy. She’s apparently great with Oliver’s kids, though, and I think she’s just the kind that takes a while to relax enough to get to know. “Okay, well in the meantime, come here and help me, woman. I’m taking out the sink to get this last bit demo’d for the day.” Climbing back under the sink, I get back to work disconnecting the drain pipes, capping them off for later. I clamp off the feed hoses and disconnect them, making sure the hoses are clear before tapping on the bottom of the sink.

With a little bit of wedging, we slide our fingers underneath and pull the sink out. Once we get it out, I take the other end from Cassie and carry it outside to my trailer.

When I come back, she’s leaning over the hole in the countertop, looking at all I’ve done. “Wow, you know, I was thinking, and I’d like to—”

As Cassie talks, she taps the clamp that I’ve put on the cold water line, and it pops off, the hose popping free to squirt both of us from the chest up in cold water.

“Oh!” Cassie yells, wiping at her eyes. “Shit, what the—”

“Damn it,” I say, trying not to laugh. I reach down, and with blurry vision, I grab the pinch clamp from the floor by my left boot. I attach the clamp and then check the other.

“What just happened? Isn’t the water off, Mr. Fix-It?”

“Yes, the water is off, but there’s always a little left in the lines. The water company just shuts it off at the street and leaves it to the homeowner to bleed the pipes. Obviously, they didn’t here, and with the heat . . . guess the pressure was just enough to blow when you tapped the cap. Pun intended.” I finish my check. It’ll hold. “Anyway, that should be the worst and—”

I turn around, seeing Cassie, her shirt clinging to her body and her hair in wild disarray as she shakes it free, and time stops. The words instantly die in my throat, and the only thought I have is simple.

I fucking want her.Cassie

My hair’s a mess, and the blouse I wore to work today is soaked as I wipe the water out of my eyes. Caleb makes a joke, but I don’t hear it as I’m trying to get a drop of water out of my ear, and I’ve got a finger jammed almost painfully in it. Finally, I pull it out with an audible Pop! just as Caleb stands up. “Anyway, that should be the worst and—”

He turns around and freezes, our eyes locking. Time seems to stop outside. There’s some sort of weird magic going on. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I’m looking at the rivulet of water running from the lock of wet hair lying over his forehead. The drop continues down his cheek, getting absorbed into his beard scruff, and all I can think is that I would’ve liked to lick that drop, catch it with my tongue, and suddenly, I’m thirsty.

He’s staring at me too, towering over me, barely a half-step away. Even wet, I can feel the heat coming off his body. He reaches up, gently grasping a lock of my hair, tucking it behind my ear, and I wonder vacantly if he wants to lick the water from my face. I shudder a little at the thought, bringing his attention lower. He stares at my wet blouse, clinging tightly to my breasts. I look a little like a wet t-shirt contestant, my white blouse sheer and showing the lace of my bra. Can he see the pink of my nipples? I should probably be embarrassed by that, but instead, I find myself arching a little, hoping that he can.

He notices. I can tell because I see his eyes dilate, his breath coming faster. For a frozen moment, I think he’s going to make a move, and I realize that I want him more than I have ever wanted anyone before. Wait, what? We’re supposed to be friend-zoned buddies, that platonic friend that we tease but don’t cross a certain line.

That might have been the past, and we’ve tap-danced that line plenty of times before, but right now, I want Caleb to make a move. As my brain whirls from the thoughts rushing through it, he sets his hands on my waist. “Caleb . . .” I whisper, my throat catching as the words get stuck somewhere in the back of my throat.

He takes it as a rejection, though, and the light in his eyes dims some, but they still burn with an intensity that leaves me breathless and my body aching for his touch. He gently pushes me away and growls in a gravelly voice I’ve never heard from him before,