The Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set: The Complete Blue Collar Bachelors Series

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  And I'm frozen. Captivated by him. Overwhelmed by the fact that he's standing there, waiting for me.

  Wow! All that sexy goodness for little old me?

  If he keeps giving me that sex glare, death is gonna do us part before I even make it up to that altar. Be still, my erratic heart.

  I feel my dad's strong fingers clench around my arm, jolting me back to the present. "Are you ready, sweetheart?" His concerned whisper rumbles low in my ear.

  I look up at him and give him a reassuring smile but I'm too chocked up to respond with words. So, I just nod. Following after my maid of honor and the precious flower girls and page boys, my weak legs carry me. The love in this room is so vibrant and alive I can feel it as my loved ones look on. It truly feels like I'm walking down the path toward my future, my perfect groom.

  The firm collar of his starched white shirt rides the rise and fall of his Adam's apple as I approach. The corners of his lips twitch.

  I smile to myself. He's nervous.

  “And now, I can't wait to be up there with him, holding his hand, giving him all the reassurance that he needs, being his soft place because he's my rock.

  He's my everything.

  My father's hand in the middle of my back guides me up to the altar and as Vivian is helping me untangle the train of my dress, dad leans into Leo's ear. I'm not sure what words are exchanged but I take note of the grave look on my man's face, the way he squares his posture and lifts his chin. The way he smiles at me from somewhere deep and genuine inside.

  When I first met him, he never smiled. He was drowning in his pain. And now, the joyful curve of his lips is one of my greatest possessions.

  I know I'm probably imagining things but when Leo reaches for my hand and our fingers tangle in the presence of God and our family, I feel our baby move for the first time. In the depths of my being the spark of love roars ferociously. This man is my hope, my home.

  The pastor's voice rings out. "Leo and Theresa, I now invite you to recite the vows which you have prepared."

  My groom clears his throat, squeezing my fingers as he looks deep into my eyes. "I, Leo, choose you my precious Reese to be so much more than my lawfully wedded wife. I choose you to be my best friend, the mother of my children...My Cupcake Girl. In those crazy moments, right before you say something cringeworthy in a public setting, I want to be the lucky guy to look over at you and give you a little headshake in warning." The crowd chuckles lightly at that and my cheeks warm up. My tendency to over-share is no secret to my family and friends. But it don't matter--my man loves me anyway. Leo continues. "And when those socially inappropriate “words fall from your mouth anyway, I'll be the guy to tuck you under my arm and place a kiss on your scalp and guide you away, loving you still, loving you always." More laughter. "In all seriousness, what I'm trying to say is, I vow to protect you, to honor who you are, to hold you when you cry, to lend an ear when you need someone to listen. Because I do love you. I love the things I know about you. I'm eager for the parts of you I haven't discovered yet. I respect and honor the trust you place in me. I cherish the home you've built for me and Brent. I am yours, Reese, in all the big ways and the small ways, too." My eyes are watery now. I can't control the tear that spills down my cheek. Leo's grip tightens further. "I love you and I claim you as mine. And only mine. And I gift myself to you and only you. Forever."

  I don't think there's a dry eye in the room. Even the pastor is sniffling as he turns to me, silently coaxing me to say my vows.

  I steal in a sharp breath. "I, Theresa, take you Leo to be my lawfully wedded husband. My partner in grocery shopping, my TV buddy, my co-pilot on this adventure of life. I give you my heart, my body, my spirit--freely, completely, without a single hesitation. I devote myself fully to being yours in the good times, in the bad times. In sickness, in health. For richer, for poorer. For everything in between. I promise to love you, support you, trust you and be worthy of your trust. This day and all the days of my life." I'm nearly choking on my emotions. There's so much more I want to say, so many promises I want to make. But I decide to sum it all up in one final pledge. "And most of all, I promise you a lifetime supply of free cupcakes. I love you, Leo."

  Brenton's little cheer breaks out from the sidelines where he's standing with the rings. "Yay!" Everyone laughs.

  The pastor blesses the rings, blesses our union and gives us his blessing to share our first kiss as man and wife.

  “And when my husband's palm settles on the small of my back and he presses my body to his and his lips touch mine, I feel the deepest, most complete happiness I've ever felt. I know for sure that this is what forever feels like.”

  So, will Nova & Charlie get it on, or what?

  Thanks so much for reading Lover Boy. I hope that you fell in love with Reese and Leo’s story :)

  This amazing couple may have gotten their happy-ever-after, but the Blue Collar Bachelors Series is far from over!

  Was Leo right about the spark between Nova and Charlie? Are the two friends destined to become lovers? Continue reading to find out!

  Play Boy

  The Blue Collar Bachelors Series Book 2

  Play Boy (The Blue Collar Bachelors Series – Book 2)

  Copyright © 2018 Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents appearing therein are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status of the various products referenced in this work.

  Amazon’s Kindle Store is the only authorized distributor of this ebook. If you have downloaded or purchased it from any other distributor, please note that you have received an illegal copy. This not only violates the author’s copyright, deprives the author of royalties due and puts the book at risk of being removed from Kindle distribution, but it also exposes you to computer viruses, theft of your personal information by book pirates and potential legal prosecution.

  Created with Vellum

  About “Play Boy”

  He's my best friend. He's a player...And now, he wants me in his bed.

  Charlie Hartley is the thing that addictions are made of. At least that's what I've heard from the parade of desperate women who've gone through his bedroom's revolving door.

  Brash and unapologetic, tattooed and insanely handsome. I'm sure there's a Charlie Addicts Anonymous meeting taking place somewhere in the great state of Illinois as we speak.

  I've become really good at keeping him at arm’s length and keeping my silly crush under control. After all, it's a skill I've been perfecting since the first time he stood up to a bully for me back in the 8th grade.

  But when he offers to escort me to my 83-year-old grandmother's wedding, I start seeing him in a new light. Maybe there's more to him than that smoking hot body and those playful, flirtatious eyes.

  Now, we're growing closer, crossing lines, shattering boundaries. I've strutted out of the friend zone and straight into his bed.

  But that's perfectly fine because I'm a tough girl. I can manage a juvenile, little crush. And there's no chance that a guy like Charlie will start catching feelings for me.

  One drunken night of hot sex won't change our friendship...Will it?

  Play Boy is a steamy, laugh-out-loud, friends-to-lovers romance set in small town Illinois. It is book 2 in the Blue Collar Bachelors series.

  Chapter One

  Charlie

  The alarm of my pickup truck beeps twice, assuring me that it’s locked up as I drag my feet through the heavy steel door of Hartley Construction. I’ve got my toolbox in one hand, my hardhat in the other and both feet clad in my grimy steel-toed boots.

  It’s been a hard day on the worksite but I can’t call it quits just yet. I’ve got to deal with a shit ton of phone calls and paperwork before the end of this hot as
hell Friday afternoon.

  I hate this side of the business—all the bureaucratic shit. I enjoy being on-site, getting my hands dirty, working with my crew, swinging a damn hammer. It’s the reason I started in this line of work when I came back from that tour of duty that nearly cost me my life.

  I need the camaraderie of my men surrounding me. I need the physical exertion of lifting heavy things. After the things I’ve been through, I need a valid excuse to rip walls apart with my bare hands.

  But the paperwork is a necessary evil, I guess. It’s required if I wanna get paid. And getting paid is what keeps the lights on. It’s what keeps my workers and their families fed.

  With a fleeting glance in my secretary’s direction, I give her a lackluster greeting as I pass her desk. “Hey Sharon.” But I immediately find myself taking a second glance her way.

  Well damn, she looks good. Her tanned cleavage peeks over the top of her low-cut green blouse like double suns rising through the center of a lush valley. It’s hard not to appreciate the scenery.

  I know it’s not polite to stare, especially when I’m the boss and the object of my ogling is on the payroll. But sometimes a man can’t help himself.

  I quickly avert my eyes as she looks up from the neatly stacked pile of papers sitting in front of her. She pounds a fist hard to her chest, belches like a truck driver and then turns up her nose at the putrid smell. “Oh god, I knew that cream of broccoli soup I had for lunch would come back to haunt me.”

  That’s all it takes to shake me out of my momentary daze.

  Sharon and I are definitely not at risk of bumping uglies at any point in the future. We immediately got that mess out of our systems when she started working for me three years ago. We were upfront with each other about our mutual attraction and handled it like adults—with a vigorous doggie-style session bent over the fax machine.

  Once that was over and done with, we were able to develop a perfectly mature and platonic working relationship. Every now and then, I relapse when those swollen mammaries smile up at me from the neckline of her maternity outfits but I always recover quickly. Usually as soon as she opens her mouth and lets her crass inner musings and/or her acid reflux spew free.

  Oh, and she’s pregnant. I did mention that, didn’t I?

  Anyway, Sharon is my office foreman. She takes care of the deskwork while I’m in the field swinging that hammer. She makes sure that my suppliers are paid on time, that my clients receive their invoices, that our construction permits arrive before we break ground. I couldn’t run this business without her.

  “How’s that morning sickness treating you?” I produce a can of ginger ale from the pocket of my fleece overshirt and drop it on her desk as I walk in the direction of my office.

  “Ah, thank you, dah-ling!” she coos dramatically and I hear the fizzy pop of the can breaking open almost immediately. “I don’t know why they call that thing morning sickness. It’s a very misleading moniker. It assaults you all hours of the day and night. I think I’m gonna start a petition to have it renamed around-the-fucking-clock sickness.”

  I shrug out of my overshirt and drop down into my tattered office chair as I laugh. “Well, that’s what you get for going and getting yourself knocked up.”

  I throw my feet up on the desk, nearly kicking over the vase of fresh petunias sitting on the edge. Sharon must have put them there this morning. She likes to add a feminine touch to our grubby little office on the edge of Copper Heights’ industrial row. I don’t know why she bothers. This is the grimiest part of town.

  Grabbing the mail on my table, I flip through it. Electricity bill. Internet bill. Invitation to some pretentious trade conference in New York next month. Optometrist coupon. Post card from Archie, my military buddy. I keep the bills and the postcard, then toss the rest into the trash.

  Sharon waddles into my doorframe and sighs. “It’s all a part of growing up Charlie. You meet a nice person. Someone who makes you laugh. You fall in love. You get married. You have babies. And if you’re lucky, that person keeps you laughing ‘til you die.” She smiles wryly. “It’s not such a bad deal. You should try it out.”

  I hock in my throat as I riffle through the client folders on my desk to avoid making eye contact.

  Sharon blows out a frustrated breath. “You’re such a good guy deep down. So thoughtful.” She lifts her ginger ale as an illustration of her point. “And you just cancel out all your good qualities by running around like a dog in heat. It makes me a little sad.”

  Is she tearing up? Those pregnancy hormones are doing a number on that woman!

  She and I have had this conversation. The whole white picket fence dream may work for some, but not for people like me. I’ve seen the other side of happily ever after. That nightmare shows up all too often in my sleep. Love can be more hazardous to a man than pure hatred. Experience has taught me that.

  But since I’m not in the habit of snatching people’s delusions and stomping on them with my steel-toed boots, I decide to keep my opinion to myself.

  Attention still focused on the papers in front of me, I change the subject. “Shar, did we get the demolition permit we need for the Silverberry project?”

  She’s not at all pleased with my deflection, but thankfully, she decides to let it go. She folds her arms over her enormous baby bump and splutters out a bitter laugh. “Nope. Still waiting.”

  An unsettling feeling hits my stomach as I observe her amused expression. “What was that snort all about?”

  Her judgmental stare is unblinking. “If I had to guess, I’d say that Ursula’s got her tentacles all up in a bunch again and she’s holding up the paperwork.”

  Ack! My blood crawls at the mere mention of that woman.

  Ursula. That’s what Sharon calls Helena from the county’s permits office. Ursula, as in, the wicked octopus queen from the Little Mermaid.

  The woman has got curves for days and oral skills that could resuscitate a dead man. But she’s clingy in a dangerous way and it was only a matter of time before the things she demanded in bed got me handcuffed in the back of a police car.

  The chick is downright crazy. I had to cut her off. Call it self-preservation.

  “I know you don’t want to deal with her,” Sharon says sagely, “But she’ll continue to withhold those permits as long as you continue to withhold your cock.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I try to feign ignorance…I fail.

  “You know all too well what I mean. I told you not to fuck that woman. She may be pretty but she’s got Fatal Attraction eyes.”

  Unfortunately, I know exactly what she’s talking about. It’s a hawkish gaze that moves down your body, clawing at your skin like talons, leaving you feeling raw and violated. It can have a grown man shivering and wishing for his momma’s soothing touch.

  I cringe just thinking about it.

  Sharon’s right but I can’t tell her that because her oversized ego is eating for two.

  “Anyway,” I say in a deliberate tone, “would you call the permits office and follow up?”

  “Already did, Boss.”

  “And…?”

  “I was politely informed that you would have to go down there to sort it out in person.”

  “Okay,” I sigh and scrub a calloused hand down my face. “Put it in your schedule to go over there first thing on Monday morning.”

  She smirks. “No, hun. You’re not understanding. You have to go down there on Monday morning. They were very specific with me over the phone.”

  What garbage! Helena’s just intent on being difficult. Power tripping.

  Well, at least on the bright side, we’ll be at her place of work. She surely won’t cause a scene…Right?

  Sharon tosses the empty soda can into the garbage and starts dancing in place as she grips her belly like her bladder is about to fall out.

  “Go on.” I shoo her away with my hand.

  She smiles and starts humming the theme song for the Little Mermaid as
she turns toward the washrooms.

  She’s trying to be cute. She’s not. She’s a pain in the ass.

  “Sharon!” I growl in warning.

  “What?” She tosses me an innocent look over her shoulder. “Got the song stuck in my head.”

  I bury my face in my hands, not at all thrilled that I have to deal with Ursula on Monday morning.

  Sharon glances at me from right outside the toilet door. “I always told you that your philandering ways would come back to haunt you one day. Well, I’ll pencil it into your calendar because it looks like Monday might be the day.” She cackles, thoroughly entertained, as she slams the door shut.

  Ugh—the weekend needs to start. Right now.

  Chapter Two

  Charlie

  Peering through the front window, I see the all-white Acura Integra bumping along the curb. I cringe at the harsh sound of metal scraping against concrete. This girl really needs to have her driver's license revoked.

  She hunches forward to peer into the side mirror then she slams her little fist on the edge of the steering wheel. I can't see her expression from here but I can just imagine it—her full lips pushed into a fretful pout, her golden brows drawn down over her emerald green eyes, a tiny crease on her forehead.