Working For It: A House Flipping Rom Com (Cook Brothers Book 5)

by BJ Harvey

  Working for it

  Copyright © 2020 by BJ Harvey

  Edited by Lauren Clarke

  Cover Designed by BJ Harvey

  Photo sourced from Big Stock

  Formatted by Integrity Formatting

  ISBN: Kindle—978–0-6487638–1-9

  ISBN: Epub—978–0-6485280–9-8

  ISBN: Print—978–0-6487638–2-6

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cook Brothers Series

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other books by B.J. Harvey

  Full series available to order:

  Work in Progress—Jamie

  Work Violation—Jax

  Working Back—Bryant

  Hard Work—Cohen

  Working For It—Ezra

  ***

  Abi and Cade feature in:

  Game Saver—Abi

  “Is this seat taken?” I turn my head, my mouth tipping up with a wry grin when I see the source of the inquiry.

  Gilly Nelson—Jax Cook’s sister-in-law, for all intents and purposes—stands there in all her stunning glory.

  She’s five foot ten, with her long blonde hair gathered in a high ponytail, sparkling dark blue eyes, and well-maintained curves for days. She’s stunning—beyond so. It’s a sight I’ve enjoyed a lot in the past twelve hours, especially earlier tonight when she wore that clingy black dress made of a netted, sequined fabric that would’ve had any unattached red-blooded man fantasizing about all the ways they could get to what’s underneath it.

  I know this to be true because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing all night. And since we’re both in Vegas for my best friend, Jamie, and his fiancée, April’s, joint bachelor/bachelorette party, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t entertained thoughts of proving the “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” adage to be true—preferably with the woman currently raking her gaze up and down my body.

  I stand and pull out the barstool beside me. “A gentleman,” she murmurs. “A rare find, some might say.” Her lips twitch, her eyes dancing.

  I shrug. “I’m simply the man my momma raised me to be—and my father made damn sure I became.”

  Once she’s seated, I push her chair in and sit beside her, lifting my arm in the air to signal a bartender.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” she says, tilting her body toward me, her thigh brushing against mine as she goes.

  “Indeed. I thought everyone was calling it a night.”

  She quirks a brow, her lips twitching. “You mean the couples who have anything but sleep on their minds?”

  I groan and drop my head on the bar.

  “What?” she asks with a sly smile that gets my cock’s attention.

  I turn my head and meet her eyes: “I’m rooming with Cohen. Now I really don’t want this night to end.”

  Gilly snorts, biting her lip as if to stop herself from laughing. I chuckle, and she loses the fight, soon joining me.

  “Well, how about you let me buy you another drink…” She nods at the twenty-year-old malt in my hand, “…and I can help you avoid any awkward interruptions,” she whispers. “Because I don’t know about you, but it doesn’t matter how close you are with someone, no one wants to walk in on post-coital bliss, solo or otherwise.”

  Well, fuck. Now there’s only one person’s post-coital anything I’m thinking of, and it’s the woman in front of me.

  This is the first time it’s been just the two of us without any of our family or friends around. So far, all I know about Gillian Nelson is that she’s Ronnie’s older sister, and she knows how to wear the hell out of a classy dress with Louboutins I want digging into my back.

  Before I get to making that particular fantasy a reality, I’m going to find out more about this golden-haired goddess.

  I sit up straight, catching the bartender finally moving our way out of the corner of my eye.

  “How about I buy the drinks, and you find us an empty booth so you can dazzle me with your charm and undoubtedly stunning wit for the rest of the night?” I ask, quirking my brow.

  Her eyes flash. “Twist my arm, why don’t ya.” She leans in, resting her hand on my shoulder and bringing her mouth close to my ear. “But don’t feel you have to play it safe and only compliment my personality and intellect, Ez. I didn’t wear this dress, and these shoes not to be noticed and appreciated, and I haven’t missed your continued appreciation all night. Don’t make me miss it now.” She brushes her lips against my cheek in a barely-there kiss before succeeding in knocking me—figuratively—on my ass. She straightens, wraps her fingers around my tumbler, and meets my wide stare before lifting the glass to her lips and downing the rest of the scotch like it’s water. She winks at me. “I’ll have another one of those if you will.”

  Then she’s slipping off the stool, and my head turns to watch her—and her amazing ass—walk across the room toward the black leather booths lining the front windows. Fucking gorgeous.

  A tap of knuckles on the bar knocks me from my impure thoughts, and I meet the amused gaze of the bartender who’s leaning his elbows onto the bar, his eyes drifting from me to the same sight I was just enjoying.

  I look back to Gilly just in time to see her slide into a booth, her dress riding up as she does, giving me a glimpse of lace-topped stockings and a garter. Fuck! Just the thought that she’s been wearing that all night has me groaning under my breath. I can’t look away. “Make it two of the same.”

  “Lucky bastard,” he mutters.

  After reaching the table with our drinks in hand, I place one in front of Gilly before taking my place opposite her.

  She takes a slow sip, the gentle undulating motion of her throat as she swallows the liquid down, commanding my attention. Her mouth tips up when she catches me staring.

  “A woman who likes her scotch,” I say.

  She grins. “A woman who has a taste for the finer things in life—for networking purposes at first, and for the sheer enjoyment of good whiskey now.”

  I raise my glass to my lips and take a slow, savoring taste, swirling the liquor around my mouth.

  She lifts a perfectly arched brow. “Do you approve?”

  “I do. There’s nothing better than a woman who appreciates a good drink.” I lower the tumbler back
to the table, taking the chance to take my fill of the beautiful woman in front of me.

  Gilly is the whole package: self-sufficient, successful, sexy, smart, and a woman who has something on her mind, judging by her stocking-clad foot running up my calf under the table.

  “So, Ezra Baker, brother of Faith, best friend of all the Cooks, tell me about yourself,” she says.

  I tilt my head, fighting and failing to stop my smirk. “Oh, is this Twenty Questions?”

  She shrugs. “Twenty would take too long.”

  My brow lifts. “Somewhere to be? A hot date, maybe?”

  She shrugs and takes another drink, drawing my attention to her scarlet-painted lips. “Depends on your answers, I suppose.”

  “Ah,” I say, leaning into the seat cushion and stretching an arm out across the back of the booth. “Then hit me with your best shot, Counselor.”

  She grins, and I swear I’ve just witnessed her superpower. I thought it might’ve been her sapphire eyes, or her long legs, or maybe her intelligence and wit. While those are all powerful weapons in her arsenal, it’s her smile that’s capable of sinking ships and ending wars. Men would lay down their arms and wave the white flag willingly for that smile being aimed at them.

  Gripping her glass, she downs her drink and waves to the same bartender from before.

  “Someone’s eager,” I murmur, catching a daring twinkle in her eye.

  “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll start off nice and easy. Don’t worry, tiger. I’ll be gentle …to begin with anyway,” she adds with a wink. “But first, we need drinks.”

  I throw my head back and burst out laughing, recovering as the bartender reaches the table.

  “Ready for round two already?”

  She doesn’t look away. “I’m hoping Ez here has a bit more stamina than that.” And there’s no missing the challenge in her words. Little does she know I’m never one to back down, especially when I can see the prize right in front of me and can imagine just how good it’ll be claiming it.

  “Damn, you two better not start going at it right here. I’m all for a show, but I’m not sure the other patrons would enjoy it as much as I would,” he says.

  Gilly’s eyes widen. Mine do the same before our heads both turn slowly toward the guy.

  The cocky bartender has the balls to grin, and I like him even more. “So, I’ll just settle for taking your order. What will it be?”

  Gilly tilts her head at me, raising her index finger to her chin and tapping her manicured nail against her chin. “Hmm…” She turns back to meet my eyes. “How much can you handle, my friendly resident architect?”

  “Whatever you wanna throw at me, Counselor.”

  “Okay then,” she replies with an approving nod, returning to the bartender. “Why don’t we start with two small Liquid Viagras.”

  The guy chuckles and shakes his head. “Whatever the lady wants—”

  “The lady gets,” I say, finishing for him.

  “Two Jager and Red Bulls, coming up.” Then he’s gone, and I’m left alone, gaze locked with the surprising—and very welcome—woman across from me.

  I lean forward, quirking my finger, and beckoning her closer. When she obliges, I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “Just so we’re clear, I’ll enjoy the hell out of the drink, but, touch wood, I’ve never needed any Viagra, and I definitely don’t need any help in that department when it comes to you.”

  Her breath hitches, her eyes flashing with heat as they roam my face before lowering to my lips then languidly returning to my eyes. “Good to know, although the ladylike part of me should really insist that it’s just a drink.”

  “And what about the unladylike part of you?” I say.

  The instep of her foot slides higher to rest on the inside of my knee. When my leg twitches, her half-grin slowly appears. “She thinks that whoever can order the dirtiest cocktail the lovely bartender can make might just get to decide how the rest of the night plays out.”

  I nod in approval, slipping my hand under the table and lifting her foot to rest on top of my leg. Engaging my thumb, I run slow, deepening circles over her arch, seeking—and getting—an arousing soft moan from my sexy drinking partner.

  “So, these questions…” I ask.

  She licks her lips in a move that has me shifting in my seat. “Okay. Favorite color?”

  My brows jump up. “Really? That’s what you want to start with?”

  Gilly shrugs. “It’s not like I’m going to jump into the juicy ones straight away. I’m a trained interrogator; I’ve got to get my subject comfortable first.”

  I knead my thumb into her foot, earning a gratifying flutter of her lashes and parting of her lips.

  “You don’t play fair,” she murmurs.

  I chuckle. “You’re not the only one with your eyes on the prize. I always play to win.” I smooth my palm over her ankle. Her breathing quickens, and with her as affected as I am, I’m even keener to see where this night will take us.

  I lock my eyes with hers. “Red.”

  She nods just as the bartender arrives with our drinks. I finish off my scotch before he clears it away and leaves again.

  “And yours?”

  “Gold.”

  “You like to come first?”

  “And any man who isn’t fully on board with that philosophy isn’t worthy of my time and intentions.”

  I lift the newly delivered cocktail and hold it out between us, watching as she does the same with hers. I gently touch our glasses together. “I wholeheartedly support your mission to always come first.” I nod her way. “You’re up, Counselor. Better make it a good one.”

  “Alright. Boxers or briefs?”

  “Calvins to the day I die. They’re very …supportive.”

  “And I bet there’s a lot to fill them out,” she shoots back with a sly smile. Oh, she has no idea. But she will.

  My gaze drops to her lips. She pulls the straw into her mouth. Good lord. Looking up through her lashes, she takes a long, slow draw, hollowing her cheeks as she does it. Images of her wrapping her lips around something else fill my brain.

  She lowers her drink back onto the table. “Your turn, Ezra. Hit me with your best shot,” she says with a saucy wink.

  “Okay, hmmm…” I tap my fingers on the wood, my other hand still softly massaging her foot. I’m so hard; I’m at risk of punching a hole through the table and making a new centerpiece. I tilt my head and study her, flip-flopping between going straight for the kill or easing into it. I’m determined to get this woman naked and screaming my name by the end of the night.

  She flexes her toes against my leg. “C’mon, hotshot,” she says with a salacious smile. “Ask the first thing that pops into your head.”

  “Do you always wear sexy lingerie like that?” My eyes drop to the flash of red peeking out of the low neckline of her dress.

  “I’ve been an aficionado of satin and lace since I was old enough to buy my own.”

  I nod, slowly dragging my heated gaze over the undoubtedly soft skin of her neck, eyeing the trail my tongue is going to take down her body the minute I get her beautifully bare and laid out in front of me.

  “How about you? Do you appreciate a woman who’s made it her mission to keep Agent Provocateur in business?”

  I lean forward, pushing my palm higher up her calf as I do, loving the way her teeth bite into her bottom lip. My voice dips low as I meet her stare. “Yet again, a cause we both fully support.”

  Her chest rises and falls rapidly, the perfectly curved outline of her breasts making me stupid for a second.

  When I turn into a momentary mute, she clears her throat. My eyes snap back up like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “So, tell me, have you been to Vegas before?” she says in an unexpected shift in conversation.

  I chuck out the straw and lift the Liquid Viagra to my mouth for a long, much-needed drink. “Yeah. A few times. I helped consult on building this hotel.”


  Gilly’s eyes widen before she looks around the large bar. “Well, from what I’ve seen, you should be commended. This entire resort is amazing.”

  I nod. “Thanks. It was a collaborative effort between myself and two friends of mine who have a firm in San Francisco.”

  “You’ve only been here for work then?”

  I swallow. This could be the moment where this interlude comes to an end. “I also married my second wife here.”

  “Ahh, the clichéd Vegas wedding.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head. “More like being stupidly led around by my dick and getting talked into eloping when I should’ve known better.”

  “Not a good split?”

  “It was better than my first marriage, but yet another alimony check to add to the collection.”

  “And what did you learn from that experience?”

  “Not to fall for someone whose promise of something good is nothing but fake platitudes and manipulation.”

  “Sounds like there’s a story there…”

  “Not one to talk about with a beautiful woman who’s in a league far over and above that of my ex-wives.”

  Her lips twitch at that. “Smooth,” she says, taking another drink.

  “Well, let me tell you, I’ve never been married in Vegas. It’s not even on my bucket list. Besides, what you see is what you get with me.”

  And if ever there was a go sign, she just gave it to me.

  I sneak a peek of my now favorite flash of red at her bust then meet her eyes again. “And there’s so much more I’d like to see.”

  Gilly’s lips part and her toes dig into my skin. Her head tips to the side. “So, since you helped design the place, does that mean you know the layout of the hotel?”

  My eyes narrow as I try to work out where she’s going with this. “I do…”

  “And you must know what all of the hotel rooms look like?”

  “Not all of them.”

  “That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d show me back to mine.”

  “I was raised to be a gentleman and see a woman to her door.”

  Her mouth tips up as her hooded gaze trails down to my hand, which is now gripping my glass tight. “I bet you were.” She stretches her leg farther up to rest high on my inner thigh. She’s so close to feeling exactly what she’s doing to me.