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

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  Sharon's gaze moves back and forth between Charlie and me as he and I stand frozen, grinning at each other. She snorts and mumbles sarcastically under her breath. "Just friends...? Not for long."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Nova

  My movements freeze when I see Reese's name on my caller id.

  Shit!

  And immediately, it's no longer blood in my veins. It's pure, unadulterated guilt.

  I’ve been fucking my friend’s brother for days and I haven’t mentioned a word to her. If I’m honest, I’ve been avoiding her. That makes me a pretty rotten bestie. I consider letting her call go to voicemail but inevitably, I immediately feel worse. I’m not gonna be that girl. The one who lets a guy—even a guy like Charlie—get in the way of the important relationships in my life.

  Putting down the plate I was washing, I turn off the pipe and wipe my hands on a towel.

  "Hey." I lean against the kitchen counter with my phone propped between my shoulder and my ear.

  I instantly hear the smile in her voice. "There you are! Hi!”

  Biting down on my lip, I wince. “Here I am.”

  “I haven’t talked to you in forever. What have you been up to?"

  I’ve been up to fucking your brother sixty-six ways to Sunday…Please don’t hate me…

  I clear my throat to buy some time. "Been...busy."

  There’s a pause on her end. "Busy, hmm..."

  Oh god, she can already sense that something is up. I guess that’s how it is when you’ve been friends with someone for so long. Shame pulls over me like a suffocating blanket.

  Reese continues. Her tone is strained with suspicion now but she’s trying to play it cool. "Anyway, Sophia finally lifted her head from the pillow this morning for the first time in like a week and I was thinking that we should all go grab a bite, maybe some ice cream."

  I try to sound casual. "Oh shucks. Sorry. Charlie’s about to pick me up to go install some shelves at my grandmother's house."

  "Charlie, huh?"

  I am not at all a fan of the accusation in her voice. But my guilt won’t let me call her on it.

  “Yes, he promised her at the wedding that he’d help her with that. She’s been looking forward to it.”

  I can almost hear Reese’s dark brown eyebrow inching up on her forehead. “Oh, okay…Next time, then." She said that way too cheerily. She’s really on to me.

  My voice comes out shrill and overexcited when I try to mimic her tone. “Yeah, next time.”

  We can’t say goodbye quickly enough. I’ve never been so eager to get off the phone with her. I set the phone down on the counter and bury my face in my hands. Oh, I’m such a terrible person.

  There isn’t much time for self-pity, though. Not a minute later, I hear the roar of Charlie’s truck pulling up outside. And now, my guilt has dissipated, instantly replaced by giddiness and hunger that I try to suppress.

  Grabbing my backpack from the kitchen table, I manage to swing open the front door right as he’s about to hit the bell.

  “Hey…”

  “Hey…”

  He’s standing on the front porch, his massive frame filling out the doorway. Biceps straining the sleeves of his dark t-shirt. Twinkling eyes peeking out from under the rim of his black cap. Blue jeans hugging his powerful thighs just right.

  If ‘temptation’ were a man, he’d be the one standing in front of me right now.

  Charlie leans an arm on the doorjamb and looks down at me with a smirk. The way his eyes roll over my cleavage and my hips…a girl’s heart can only take so much.

  His finger hooks beneath my chin, tilting my face up and his lips slide over mine. My lungs freeze mid-breath. Our tongues dance together and my thoughts swirl, getting swept up in a cyclone of lust. His fingers stroke the curve of my spine underneath my t-shirt and my hands find the back of his head, pressing him closer. It doesn’t take long until there’s a raging fire in the pit of my belly.

  He presses his forehead to mine when he pulls back. “I wanna fuck you so bad…” His erection brushes my belly. “Can I come inside?”

  My parents have taken their sexfest back to my dad’s place in New York for the weekend. There’s nobody here but the two of us. I could let Charlie inside but this thing between us is starting to get intense. Just a little bit out of control. It’s starting to worry me.

  Yes, things feel amazing right this minute. Intimate, familiar, easy. But this is Charlie. I know his reputation with women. I’ve seen firsthand the way he operates. I’d be a fool to get myself tangled in this. I’ve already let it get too far. And in the long run, it’s gonna hurt.

  I shrink out of his arms. “We should get on the road,” I tell him. “My grandmother and Edward are waiting. And you know how old people are—they’re probably counting the minutes until those shelves are installed so they can go take a nap.”

  He laughs but it’s distant, strained. It’s like he knows that I’m pulling away.

  We don’t speak much during the ride. I stare at the passing landscape and he keeps his eyes on the road. Less than half an hour later, we’re pulling up in the driveway of grandma’s place in Reyfield.

  “Hello, you two.” She waves at us from the front porch.

  I find a smile for her despite the agitation in my chest. “Hey sexy.” I place a kiss on her cheek then give Edward a hug while Charlie grabs his toolbox from the bed of the truck.

  “Thank you so much for agreeing to come and help us out,” she tells him as he approaches the stairs.

  “Anything for a gorgeous lady like you, Nancy.”

  My grandmother’s eyes bat girlishly. “Don’t you flatter me,” she warns as Charlie gives her a one-armed hug.

  “It goes straight to her pretty, little head,” Edward rolls his eyes as he’s shaking Charlie’s hand.

  “As if you don’t spoil her enough.” Charlie very lightly bumps his shoulder with the old man’s as if they’re long lost friends, suddenly reunited.

  The tightness in my chest grows as I watch him charm the both of them so effortlessly. It’s really getting to me. He’s so good, so kind, so perfect in so many ways. Remembering not to fall completely head over heels for this guy is starting to become a challenge.

  My stark voice breaks through the pleasantries. “Grandma, can you show us where you need the shelves installed?”

  All heads snap my way. My grandmother’s eyebrow lifts but she doesn’t question me. “Sure, dear. Follow me.”

  Kicking off our shoes on the mat at the door, we travel through Grandma’s gingerbread cottage to the living room where the first shelf needs to go. After giving us instructions, Edward complains of being lightheaded and he and Grandma go enjoy the fresh breeze on the porch.

  I watch Charlie take the measurements and make the holes in the wall. With his bulging muscles and his pencil tucked behind his ear and jeans riding low on his sculpted glutes, he is every warm-blooded woman’s blue-collar fantasy.

  But that’s all he is—a fantasy. There won’t ever be anything real between us. There can’t be. He isn’t capable of it.

  When he asks me to help him hold the shelf straight while he drills it into the wall, I fight like hell to not drown in his masculine scent. And when he reaches up with the drill in hand and his T-shirt rises, giving me a peek at the deep V arrowing into his pants, I try not to sigh.

  The guy is beautiful, the embodiment of masculinity but that doesn’t mean that falling for him is a good idea.

  My grandmother and Edward are thankful beyond words once Charlie is done installing four shelves, tightening the loose hinges of a few kitchen cabinets and putting a new lock on the back door. He doesn’t complain one bit that he ended up doing more than anticipated. Instead, he politely wishes the newly-weds a good night and tells them he looks forward to seeing them soon.

  I almost hate him right now for making it so hard to not want him.

  As Charlie’s packing his tools into his truck, my grandma ambles u
p and whispers to me. “This one’s a keeper, Nova.”

  I chuff. “Granny, he’s not a keeper. He’s a friend.”

  “That’s what I said about Eddie,” she tells me. “Now, look at us.”

  Edward puts a hand on her shoulder. “She knows a keeper when she sees one.”

  I end the conversation by bidding them goodbye and climbing into the truck as fast as I can manage. When we ease onto the highway, Charlie reaches across the gearshift and takes my hand, laces our fingers. My heart doesn’t know how to beat any faster.

  My jaw trembles softly as I look down to the place where our hands intersect. They look kind of perfect together. His big, calloused fingers twisting with my small, mocha hand with its chipped nail polish. I feel a pang deep in my gut, wishing it didn’t feel so right.

  “What are you doing?” I ask hoarsely.

  He looks over at me, a smirk curving his mouth. “Holding your hand.”

  “Why?” My heart aches so bad right now. I’m almost scared that it’ll just give out in my chest.

  “Because I want to.” He turns to glance at me, to examine my features. “Because it feels good.”

  I let our hands linger together a while longer even though I know I shouldn’t.

  My voice cracks, exposing the panic I feel inside. “I don’t want to fall for you, Charlie. That would be a very bad idea.”

  His chest expands as he sucks in a lungful of air. He speaks softly, slowly, his eyes on the road. “Did it ever occur to you that I might fall for you, too?”

  A quiet gasp comes from my lips. Hopeful. Too hopeful. His head turns my way.

  Our gazes hold for a long time before I roll my watery eyes, looking away. “Don’t bullshit me. That’s not fair.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “This isn’t a joke.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You can’t be.”

  He glances at me with narrowed eyes. “What? It’s like you think I don’t have a heart or something?” Frustration tinges his voice. “Maybe if you gave me a chance to prove myself, you’d find out that I do.”

  I twist my lips to one side, holding on to my resolve. “Maybe I’m not willing to risk finding out if you do…because maybe you don’t.”

  Without warning, Charlie swerves the car onto the shoulder of the highway and the vehicle pitches up gravel, grinding to a halt.

  “Are you crazy?!” I snap at him.

  He ignores my panic. “I want to be with you, Butterfly!”

  The car falls silent. The expression on his face says that he’s absolutely dumbfounded that those words just spurted out of his mouth. My eyes slide shut and I shake my head in disbelief.

  A flame of conviction slips into his eyes. “Give me your heart, Nova. Give me a chance. Let me try to be your guy.”

  No! No, no, no, no, no!

  "My heart isn't an experiment, Charlie. Good for you if you want to try out the experience of being in a relationship…but not with me, not with my heart." I pull my hand out of his and fold my arms across my chest.

  “So you’re saying no?” His hurt expression rides his handsome features.

  I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t want things to get this complicated. I care about him so much. “Charlie, you don’t honestly think that you and I could work out…”

  “I’m willing to try,” he says earnestly.

  I drop my head so that he can’t read the emotions on my face. “Well, that isn’t good enough because I’m not willing to get hurt…”

  He watches me for a long time. I know he’s trying to decide whether to fight me on this or to just let it go. Eventually, he pushes a heavy sigh and then pulls the truck back onto the road.

  He can’t drop me off at my place quick enough. I’ve got to get out of there. For the first time ever, I don’t feel safe with him. Because this time, my heart is on the line.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Charlie

  A long, loud, blood-curling moan tears through the air. My movements grind to a halt.

  In all my years as a sexually-active man, I've seen a lot and I've heard a lot but I've never heard a woman make that sound. Quite frankly, I'm afraid.

  Taking a strengthening breath, I push the door open and step into the hospital room. My eyes go round and wide when I see my secretary mounted on a bed with her feet planted in stirrups and her fingers clenching the steel side-railings.

  Sharon's head snaps in my direction like something from out of a horror movie. Her chest heaves roughly as her scream peters off. She wears a crazed, demented expression that makes me wish I was armed with holy water and a crucifix. Instead all I've got is this bouquet of pink and white marigolds I picked up at the grocery store on the way over here.

  I set the flowers on a table and stroll over to the side of the bed with a grin on my face. "Hey there, beautiful lady." Her husband is hunched over the side of the bed, head bowed down over a plastic bucket. Is he puking? I give him a hard slap on the back in greeting.

  He looks up at me and the guy is green. Relief slides over his features. "Oh, thank god." He takes off in the direction of the bathroom so quickly he nearly falls on his face in the process.

  A grunting laugh hurtles out of Sharon. "Ha! That's what you get for peeking at my cervix, you freak!" My attention moves back to her and I suddenly realize that her red, sweat-covered face only has one eyebrow for some inexplicable reason. She picks up the makeup bag and mirror by her side and proceeds to apply her second eyebrow. As if she’s already forgotten that ten seconds ago, she was screaming out for her life.

  "Why the hell would he do that?" I ask, staring over my shoulder in the direction of the horrific wretching sound coming from behind the bathroom door.

  Sharon answers by reaching out and snatching my wrist as she pelts another long groan. It's all nails-on-chalkboard. I look away and cringe as she cuts off all blood circulation to my wrist. She’s stronger than she looks, that little woman.

  "Anyway," she says casually after the longest minute of my life. "Our nurse is an idiot who can’t tell my clit from my butthole so the hubs thought he'd go in and take a look.”

  “Dude…” I shake my head back and forth in disbelief. “That man is brave.” I rub my wrist when she releases me. Jesus, those fingernail marks are deep. I’m sure she clipped a nerve.

  Sharon scoffs. “After crossing that line, he may never fuck me again. But with the pain I'm in right now, I don't ever wanna fuck him again, either." Now she's using her fingers to apply some sort of pinkish paint to her cheeks. She giggles at my perplexed expression. "Labor lasts a few hours but post-delivery pics last forever. Gotta look posh while I push, y'know?"

  "Sure..."

  She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. "You're a guy. I don't expect you to get it." She stretches the little mirror out to me. "Hold," she commands. I do as she says because she's sort of scary right now. She pulls a tweezer from her makeup bag and starts plucking off the hairs at the corners of her lips. "Anyway, thanks for the flowers, Charlie, and thanks for stopping by." She pauses the grooming to look up at me. "You're the best boss I've ever had."

  "You're sweet," I tell her with my best smile. "And you're the best secretary I've ever had."

  Rolling her eyes, she reminds me. "I'm the only secretary you've ever had."

  She's applying bright red lipstick now. With all the screaming she'll be doing, I'm not sure that's such a good choice right now but you don't argue with a woman in labor if you can help it.

  "You know what I mean," I say waving off her comment. I know it's a bad time, but I have something really urgent I need to ask her. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know if there's been any progress on my demolition permit request, would you?"

  Her hands freeze and she looks at me. "Your demolition permit, Charlie? Really? Right now, you’re asking me about your demolition permit? You are unbelievable."

  "I'm sorry." I really do feel awful about coming in here for this right now but I'm
desperate. "Just answer one question—did you call Helena's superior at the mayor's office? What did he say? Does he know that she's holding back the permit without justification?"

  "I went down there, yesterday afternoon. Met with some stupid paper-pusher who one hundred percent has the hots for Helena. He would barely let me get a word in edgewise. He said she has complete, indisputable discretion to issue permits whenever she sees fit.” She flicks a wrist dismissively then angles a makeup sponge at her jaw. “At some point, I zoned out and I couldn't even hear what he was saying anymore. I got distracted by the butt hairs in his teeth. Never seen a bigger ass-kisser in my life."

  I chortle. "Are you sure you did everything you could do?"

  “I did everything I could do.” She stresses her words and then hitches a brow at me. “Now, the question is—did you do everything you could do? I’m surprised you haven’t just caved and fucked the woman.”

  The notion of touching Helena at this point almost gives me a contraction of my own. The thought of touching anyone but Nova makes me sick. Too bad the girl wants nothing to do with me.

  Sharon’s eyes zero in on my expression. “Wait—you’re getting serious about Nova, aren’t you? That’s why you haven’t fucked Helena.” The idea seems to bring my secretary immense pleasure, even in this moment of excruciating pain. “Mmm, playah-playah got caught up in the game. Didn’t think you had it in you. Well anyway, monogamy looks good on ya, Boss! Look how clear your skin is. You should be in a fucking Neutrogena ad. I’ll tell you—nothing clears up a man’s skin like daily pussy facials.” She throws a glance at the bathroom door then lowers her voice conspiratorially. “When Hubby and I met, he had the worst case of chin acne I’d ever seen. One solid week of cunnilingus and now his jaw is radiant.”

  Right then, she’s hit by another strong contraction. That’ll shut her up for a minute. I jump out of her reach just as she’s grasping for my wrist.

  Gimme a break. I perform manual labor in my line of work. My hands are my money.