Clean Sweep

by Evie Mitchell

  I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and sucking in a deep breath, knowing I was about to hate whatever came out of her mouth.

  "My new show is taking off and we've just been renewed for a second season. The test audiences love it. Love it, Erik. I have a free month come Friday. Instead of taking off to Fiji like I planned, I'm gonna pack up my girl and bring her and my team to you. We'll spend the month doing our thing and get you all sorted."

  Liv paused for effect. "You can thank me now."

  I counted to three slowly before responding. "Liv, you know I love you –"

  "Oh, I know."

  "—but," I continued. "I'm fine. The boys are fine. We're fine. It's just been a busy week."

  "Uh, no. Rune found a dead rat in their nursery."

  I shot straight, "what?"

  "Check family chat."

  I pulled the phone away from my ear, fingers rapidly navigating to our family group chat. Sure enough, after a bunch of responses, including one from my mother threatening to immediately come home, there was the picture. A dead rat next to Mr. Snuggles.

  I gagged, then bit out a curse. "Fuck."

  "Yeah," Liv agreed. "Now, I have the solution."

  "Tell me."

  "The Queen of Clean."

  I frowned. "Huh?"

  "It's the show I was telling you about at Christmas, remember?"

  Nope.

  "Vaguely," I lied.

  Liv made an annoyed sound. To be fair, Christmas day was when the twins were handed over to me – meaning everything else from that time until right this second was a bit of a blur.

  "I found Laura on Instagram. She was posting a bunch of cleaning videos for her family's business. She's a fourth generation cleaner and they do everything. As in crime scenes, domestic houses, commercial, you think it, they clean it. The videos are addictive. She even made me want to clean."

  Well that's a goddamned miracle.

  My sister wasn't exactly known as a domestic goddess.

  "So, I reached out and found this amazing personality on the other end. Bro, she's awesome. Like crazy pretty, hilarious, smart and never, not once, shames people for their cleaning practices. She just comes in and wants to help. It's like… if Mary Poppins and Tina Fey had a baby."

  What?

  "Uh-huh," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "So, you're gonna bring her here?"

  "And get your house ship-shape. You need a hand; Laura is the person to do it."

  "I don't know," I muttered, thinking of the piles of dirty onesies and my never-ending laundry basket. Not to mention the dirty dishes and bottles that took up just about every surface in the kitchen…

  "Erik, there was a rat in your house."

  Shit. Time to swallow your pride man.

  "Fine, when can she start?"

  "Friday," Liv confirmed. "We'll arrive Thursday morning, get sorted then start filming Friday."

  That gave me just two days to clean before they arrived.

  "Oh, and you're staying at the parent's until Friday."

  "I'm what?"

  "A rat, Erik. Where there's one, there may be more. The boys could get the plague. Or have their faces eaten off in their sleep. Is that what you want, Erik? A faceless child?"

  I shuddered at the image, fear and shame settling in my stomach. I needed to call Rune, get my kids outta there. "I gotta go."

  "Rune's at Ma's. And don't worry, I already let everyone know I'm on it."

  "Thanks," I muttered, knowing Ma would still be losing her shit.

  Better add a call to ma to my to-do list.

  "See you Friday, brother of mine."

  "Love you."

  "Love you and the boys." She hung up, leaving me to dwell in my self-pitying anger.

  My boys deserve better. Fuck.

  My phone rang and I looked down at the caller id.

  "You're the reason I'm in this mess," I told my brother in greeting.

  "A rat?" Gunnar asked. "Seriously?"

  "I don't know how it got there," I groaned.

  "Well, it looked pretty wet, nice and freshly dead, if that's any consolation."

  "It's not."

  Gunnar cleared his throat, "You know, if it's too much with the kids, and me moving here… well, Ella and I discussed it and we—"

  "Stop, no." I interrupted. "Don't even go there." I ran a hand through my hair. "It's just been a rough few days. The twins had a little stomach upset, they're out of sync with their sleep cycle, the nanny is AWOL, and I was more focused on landing the Del Laurentis account than cleaning."

  "Promise?"

  "Swear."

  There was a pause. I could feel Gunnar weighing up whether to push it. Finally, he let it go and I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  "So," he asked. "Did we get it?"

  "Dude, you doubt my ability to close a deal? Of course I got it."

  He chuckled, "I should have known better."

  "You wound me," I said, mockingly. "For that, baby sitting duties next time you're in town. A whole weekend."

  "Fine," Gunner grumbled. I heard him suck in a breath, like he was startled.

  "You okay?"

  "Um, nothing. I… I gotta go."

  I rolled my eyes. "You saw Ella."

  "Yeah."

  "Is she naked?"

  "New swimsuit."

  I sighed, "go. Leave me to do the work of three men while you plunder and pillage."

  "Thanks, owe you."

  He hung up and I looked out at the water, breathing in the salt, listening to the familiar soundtrack of my workshop.

  Taking one last calming breath, I turned to the workshop, calling, "Ian? You got a minute? We need to talk rosters for this month."

  The Queen of Clean better be worth it.

  Chapter Two

  Laura

  The Uber pulled up to the house as I glanced at the address on my phone for the third time confirming that, yes, we were in the right place.

  Wow.

  The modern beach house stood at two stories with a beautiful balcony at the front, and lots of windows. Painted a gorgeous, navy blue with white highlights, the house stood amongst a cute little garden brimming with flowers, and even had a little white picket fence. I half expected a Labrador to come tearing out, tail wagging ready to greet me.

  "Looks like a post card, don't it?" The driver remarked.

  "Indeed," I agreed reaching for my bag. "Thanks for the drive."

  "Any time, let me help you with your bags."

  He got out, helping to unload my three suitcases and two boxes of cleaning products and tools from the trunk.

  "You want me to bring these to the house?" he asked, pulling my hand truck free and loading it with my baggage.

  Yep, I was the kind of women who owned and travelled with her own moving equipment.

  "No, thank you. I've got it from here." I smiled. "Thank you so much."

  "Have a good day, Ms. Sweep."

  He got in the car and pulled away while I took in the picture-perfect house once more. Gorgeous didn't even come close to the beauty of this place. It felt… serene. Peaceful. Like a sanctuary.

  Like home…

  I shook off the thought, gripped the handles of the truck and swung the little gate open, pushing my things along the cobbled walkway up to the porch. Wisteria vines wrapped around a small entry arbor, a beautiful, whimsical way to welcome you into the yard.

  Note to self, the garden needs a weed and tidy.

  As beautiful as the entry was, I couldn't help but catalogue the few minor issues I’d already noticed. Weeds sprang from fertile soil, the flowers and bushes were beginning to become overgrown, and the grass looked a little long, as if it had needed a cut a week or two ago.

  The porch itself felt abandoned, cobwebs hung from corners and I noted the layer of sand and dust that coated the porch swing. I could smell the sea and fancied I could hear the waves lapping, though I wasn't quite sure how far I was from actual water.
<
br />   I raised a hand to knock on the door and heard an almighty crash follow my brisk tap. There was silence for a moment then what sounded like a male cursing. The unmistakable wailing of a baby followed.

  I hesitated, wondering if I should come back.

  Footsteps sounded on the other side with a deep voice calling, "coming, Liv."

  "Oh," I called, "I'm not—" the door was wrenched open as I finished saying, "—Liv." I blinked, staring at the wealth of skin before me, my mind uncharacteristically blanking.

  Skin. Man. Hot. Dirty. Skin. Filthy. Man.

  The chest was broad with a smattering of hair and some muscle. Not six-pack chiseled but defined enough to make me appreciate that this was someone who did manual labor…. Or went to the gym. He was covered in flour and some kind of sticky coating.

  Was that… chocolate?

  "Shit, you're not Liv," the person who owned the magnificent chest muttered.

  I was dimly aware that he was speaking, but all I saw was a filthy dirty man.

  And I wanted to ride him like a pogo stick. After I cleaned him. Preferably with my tongue.

  Whoa. Down girl. Abort! Abort!

  With conscious effort I pulled myself together, managing to look up and into the face of this demi-god.

  "You must be The Queen of Clean," the guy said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  "Laura Sweep," I confirmed, holding out my own hand to shake. He clasped it and I about died. His hand engulfed mine, making my large one feel small and dainty. His palm was calloused but warm and strong as he gently squeezed.

  I wanted that hand on me. Everywhere. Now.

  Pull it together, Laura!

  "Sweep?"

  "Family name,” I said absently. “We own the Clean Sweep Company." My gaze dropped and I nearly swallowed my tongue.

  He's wearing grey sweat pants. Please Lord, I need some help right now. Forgive me for these are not pure thoughts. Satan is tempting your girl something fierce today, Lord.

  My lady parts tingled for the first time in… well, a long damn time. And I was more than happy to have stumbled across this hunk of a man.

  "Come on in," he invited. "I'll just be a second. Gotta get the baby."

  He turned, hurrying down the hall and disappearing. I entered, immediately assessing the situation even as I tried to shake off my attraction to my client.

  The only time I ever lost control like this was when… actually. I never lost control like this. This was legitimately the first time I'd ever had my brain lock into a sexual frenzy.

  Unsurprising. I mean, did you see that guy? I forcible refocused on the house. It was… well, describing it as a disaster zone would be kind. Baby clothes, toys, books, blankets and what looked like a plate with a crusty piece of half-eaten toast decorated the entry. A quick peak into the first room showed a sitting area that had been reconfigured as a play room. It too was a mess.

  How many kids does this couple have?

  Liv had been pretty vague when she'd explained this project.

  "An opportunity has come up. The house is a mess and they need an urgent intervention. Can you be in Cape Hardgrave by Friday?"

  I'd immediately said yes, expecting to treat this like any other job. I'd live with the family, work out their ebb and flow, try and figure out what their triggers were, then teach them a few tips and tricks to get their house organized and improve their cleanliness.

  No problem.

  Only, there was a problem. A very large, very shirtless, very attractive problem. And my lady parts were totally onboard with this particular problem.

  "Sorry," the guy returned, coming back down the hall. In his arms were two babies and I blinked as he carried them towards me looking sheepish. "Leif and Ulf are only here while I tried to grab some clothing but I guess I should have just waited till tomorrow, yeah?"

  I blinked, taking in the hot guy who just became even hotter as he carried the babies. "Sorry, I… I need a minute." I told him, placing a hand to my chest. "What's your name?"

  He frowned, "Liv didn’t tell you?"

  "No," I murmured, watching as one of the babies snuggled closer into the guys chest.

  "I'm Erik, Liv's brother." He hefted the babies up slightly. "And these are my sons, Leif, and this big man is Ulf."

  "Well," I blinked staring at the adorable babies. "Twins. You and your wife must be busy."

  "Actually, it's just me."

  "Just—" I looked at the chaos with new eyes. "You're a single dad?"

  "Yeah, long story but I adopted these two." He pressed a kiss to Ulf's head. "Worth every minute of crazy."

  Adopted. He'd adopted twins. Be still my heart, this man deserved a blow job followed by a beer.

  "Wow," was all I could manage. "You're brave."

  He chuckled. "Or stupid. Verdict is still out."

  His place wasn't dirty or unorganized out of neglect, it was chaos because this poor guy was living with two babies and little sleep every day on his own.

  I reached across, laying a hand on Ulf's back. "Can I help you with one?"

  The guy looked unreasonably grateful. "Actually, could you take both for a minute? I was just trying to get a load of washing on but knocked over the detergent. It's everywhere."

  "Oh, why don't you look after them and I'll get it sorted?" I asked, glancing down the hall. "Which way is the laundry?"

  "It's through the kitchen but—"

  I didn't let him finish, immediately setting off. Cleaning was not only in my name, my blood or my job title, it was a part of me.

  Some people hated cleaning. I knew that. But my earliest memories were going along with my family to jobs. Mom or Dad would hand me my own spray bottle and rag and they'd let me clean a window or dust a table. We'd listen to music and they'd press kisses to my cheeks, exclaiming over my efforts and how wonderfully spotless everything looked.

  As I got older, the need to clean, to give people that ah… moment that came when entering a beautifully clean house, grew. When Instagram took off, I started posting videos showing us cleaning various filthy things. People seemed to enjoy the videos so I kept posting and people kept watching and then it got kind of crazy.

  Someone had shared a video I did of cleaning dried blood off a blouse. A local news station picked it up and ran the story on their morning show. I'd been invited to discuss cleaning and they'd loved me and asked me to be part of a regular segment. Liv had seen it and contacted me about recording a series where I helped families who needed a spring clean. Next thing I knew, I had eight episodes recorded and the network wanted another season – this time twelve episodes.

  Cleaning was addictive viewing, apparently. Go figure.

  The kitchen was equally as filthy as the rest of the house. Food crusted across surfaces, the kitchen sink over flowing. Flour and chocolate sauce were splattered across the floor and up some cupboards.

  "I knocked it over looking for the spare can of baby formula," Erik said with a laugh as we passed. "Then did the same in the laundry trying to clean my chocolate coated shirt."

  I flicked him a smile over my shoulder as I bypassed the mess. "Don't worry, I know exactly what to do to get chocolate stains out."

  I found the laundry and laughed. Two giant piles of dirty washing sat on a counter. This room was just as beautiful as the rest of the house – if you overlooked the current mess.

  I found the broom closet and pulled out a dustpan and brush, quickly cleaning the spilled detergent and making a mental note to add child-proof locks to my list of things to talk to Erik about. His kids were still little but they'd be crawling soon, and a quick look in the under-sink cupboard showed a few things that could definitely hurt their little bodies.

  "Thank you," Erik said from behind me as I finished cleaning the spill and began to sort the clothing.

  "Don't worry about it," I offered him a grin, "I actually love cleaning."

  "Well, you'd be the first in this house." He had one baby on his arm now
, a bottle in hand. The other baby was on his back, expertly held there by a woven wrap.

  He should have looked ridiculous, or at least a little less attractive. Instead, his hot factor increased and I found myself doing a scrupulous rub of the corners of my mouth to ensure I wasn't drooling.

  "I just needed some decent clothes before tomorrow," he continued, adjusting the bottle for the little one to drink. "We're staying at the parental's while they're visiting my brother and his fiancé. This house is ready to be condemned, so I may as well go fu- er, mess up theirs."

  I hid a grin as I began to sort the piles of dirty laundry. "I wouldn't go that far. It's just a little mess, nothing that can be fixed."

  "You say that now but just wait." Erik warned.

  He shifted slightly, his big body brushing against the broom and knocking if over. It fell, smacking the ground and startling the babies. They both began to cry.

  "Fuc- er, fudge!" He barked. He began to bop on his toes, up and down, trying to soothe the babies.

  "Still having trouble self-censoring?" I asked, enjoying watching this man navigate chaos.

  He barked out a laugh, "who knew I swore as much as I do. Never realized I had such a filthy mouth."

  Oh, honey. I know exactly what you can do with that filthy mouth.

  I chided myself, picking up a pile of sorted colors and placing them in the machine.

  " I added detergent and switched it on, glancing out the external laundry door, my body immediately locking.

  "What?" Erik asked, immediately coming to my side. "Is it another rat?"

  "Another- no!" I laughed, "and ew. Really? A rat?"

  He sighed, "it was only a little one but still…"

  I shook my head. "No, it's the water."

  He shifted the feeding baby and tilted his head toward the door, "you wanna see?"

  I nodded eagerly.

  He led me outside. The laundry sat off to the end of his house. Outside, there was a large outdoor covered entertaining area, complete with outdoor grill, kitchen and firepit. There were some old growth trees, a large stretch of backyard, then a fence blocking the grass from the jetty.

  "We're in the lagoon. If you take the boat down that way," he jerked his head to the left, "in about two miles you'll be in the ocean."