The Right Stud: a sexy romantic comedy

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  I nearly choke on the coffee I just swallowed. “Noted.” I quickly bite into a golden muffin and lean back in my chair as buttery, blueberry goodness fills my mouth. “Damn…”

  “Told ya that girl can bake.” She follows suit, and I’m busy scarfing down the rest, glad I have two more. “It’s one of her many talents. Handyman work is not one of them, although she does a great job restoring old furniture. Take this table for instance.”

  “Nice craftsmanship.” I slide my hand over the soft finish.

  “Took her mind off that good-for-nothing fiancé, not that you heard it from me…”

  “Fuck! Bacon!” The voice is loud and scratchy and right behind me, as a large bird snatches one of the five bacon strips off my plate, nearly taking a finger with him.

  “What the hell?” I sit back with a jerk, and the old lady rises fast. I don’t know how I missed the bird when I came in, but there it is. “Excuse my French.”

  “Rufus! Don’t be an asshole!” She sweeps him away and he flies back to a tall curio where he perches and eats his prize. She pats my shoulder. “Don’t apologize. It’s why I gave you extra bacon. That feathered freak has no manners, but he is a good listener.”

  “He belongs to you?”

  “Yep. Got him as a little fellow. Didn’t realize he’d outlive me.” She chuckles softly. “I’m stuck with him now.”

  I rise, taking my empty plate. “You done?”

  Mrs. C nods, and I carry hers to the sink as well when Ashton breezes into the room again. My back straightens, and I follow her with my eyes. She’s all business, dressed in cropped white linen pants and a simple summer shirt. Her lips are pale pink, and her long hair is brushed back in a tight ponytail. I’m already missing the easy breezy girl cooking in cutoffs.

  She looks me up and down. “Are you ready to get started?”

  “I’m ready when you are.”

  I follow her out the door. She’s doing her best to let me know she’s not interested. I’d buy it if it weren’t for that kiss we shared. Her cute little ass is perfect even in linen pants, and if I can’t salvage this old place, I’m determined to salvage last night.

  Five

  Ashton

  Holding my notebook in my hands, I do my best to focus on the list and not sexy Jax Roland, who by the way looks nothing like he does on The Right Stud, where he’s always wearing a Dallas Cowboys ball cap pulled low and a thick scruff on his cheeks. Sometimes he dons thick, plastic goggles when he’s being manly and tearing down a wall or something, or a ventilation mask if he’s worried about asbestos.

  I’d recently come across his YouTube channel when I was researching how to install a backsplash, and I admit, watching his fine ass in his tight jeans had been mesmerizing—which would explain why he seemed familiar last night. I should have recognized his voice, only I wasn’t expecting to lock lips with The Right Stud at the Smoky Siren.

  About a month ago, he mentioned on one of his shows that he grew up in the Charleston area, and he’d love to redo a beach house. My idea immediately took shape.

  Why not invite him out and see if he’d be interested in doing some of my rehab for his show? It would be a great way to create buzz about my B&B while also getting an expert to give me ideas and possibly do the repairs at a discount. I’d even offered to let him stay here while he worked.

  He agreed, and here we are.

  Only he’s a sneaky bastard. Lulu’s argument is reinforced even more by his sudden change of appearance. I am not getting mixed up with another guy leading a double life, no matter how panty-melting his kisses are… or how shiny his hair is in the sunlight… or how intense his blue gaze is on me.

  As if he knows what I’m thinking, he says, “Before we go any further, I’m sorry about last night.”

  My lips tighten, and I swallow down a snarky comeback. “It’s fine. I hung out with my friend Roger. He was nice.”

  His jaw tightens. “I bet he was.”

  I brush nonexistent lint off the hem of my shirt, ignoring the fact that he seems a little jealous. “You said you’d be back, and you never were. You lied.” I let out a sigh. “I don’t waste time on men who lie, Mr. Roland—”

  “Please, call me Jax, and it wasn’t a lie. I had to rescue my niece’s cat from a tree.”

  “Your niece’s cat.” I give him a get real look. “Is that so?”

  He nods. “If you knew my crazy family, you’d understand. My sister has three kids, triplet girls, and something always goes wrong.”

  I arch a brow. “And she doesn’t have a husband who can rescue kittens?”

  “He’s out of town. Business trip.”

  “How convenient.” It’s almost impossible not to roll my eyes. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t come back because you had to climb a tree and rescue a poor animal—not because you were actually at the Smoky Siren with someone else and left with her and then decided to ditch me?”

  I’m just spit-balling here, but I’m pretty sure I saw him leaving at the same time as a skinny blonde. I hadn’t wanted to believe it. I don’t want to believe it now. And yet…

  A flash of regret passes over his face and he chews on his bottom lip. “Well… I actually was there with someone. But, in my defense, it was a setup. I did not want to be with her. You walked in, and—”

  Shit.

  Dammit.

  Dammit dammit!

  “Stop!” I hold my hands up. “No need to explain any further. Let’s just forget last night and focus on today.” Sadly, I’d been right, and he’s an ass who was with someone. It doesn’t matter, because right now this house is my priority. Pointing with my pencil, I squint into the sun. “Everything started when we replaced the roof last year.”

  He studies me intently as if wanting to continue explaining his actions, but after a moment he gives up and follows my lead.

  He looks up at the top of the house. “Okay… and why did you replace it?”

  “Some salesman talked Granny into installing a cedar shake roof. He said it would add to the original Chesapeake-style design of the home.”

  Jax’s brow furrows. “Add to the overall dry rot you mean. Cedar shake in this climate? You might as well put a giant sponge up there. Was it ever dry?”

  “It lasted about five years… and caused thousands in damage.”

  “You should sue that guy.”

  I confess, his defensiveness is encouraging. “He disappeared. Moved back to Arizona or Las Vegas. Anyway, we replaced it with a Ridgeline roof, using Hardie board as a base to keep out the moisture.”

  He lets out a low whistle. “That must’ve set you back quite a bit.”

  “We had to do it.” My voice is quiet as I cringe inwardly at the mountain of debt hanging over my head, from the new roof to my failed wedding. It’s just more fuel for Ben’s argument to sell the home. “I hope I can save money on the rest of the work… if possible.”

  His lips tighten into a straight line. “What else is on your list?”

  “Most of it was caused by the water damage from the roof…” Walking up to the wraparound porch, I show him the rotting accents, the corbels and molding that need to be replaced.

  He follows me, I assume taking mental notes.

  “Watch where you step here or you’ll crash through.” I guide him around the rotten planks in the floor, and I nearly jump out of my skin at Mrs. C standing inside one of the open windows.

  “Don’t forget the critters in the crawl space!” she yells.

  “Critters?” Jax’s frown deepens.

  He’s done nothing but frown the entire tour, making me feel sicker and sicker.

  Exhaling a laugh, I wave my hand. “It’s just some local wildlife—”

  “It’s a family of skunks!” Mrs. C adds.

  My face flames red, and I try to hurry us along the wrap-around porch away from our stalker. “Don’t mind her, that’s not on my list to show you.”

  “It should be on your list to show somebody!” she sho
uts after us.

  Jax stops and crosses his arms over his chest. The navy tee he’s wearing stretches taut, and I can’t help gazing at his bulging biceps.

  Everything about him is solid, and I remember the feel of his hard chest against my soft body in the hall last night. It sends crazy tingles through my lower stomach.

  His voice is stern, making the tingles even hotter. “If it is skunks, and they set up shop, the whole house will be intolerable.”

  I bite my lip. I’m not sure why I’m so embarrassed by the skunk family. It’s not like I sent them a printed invitation to move in. “We’re not certain they’re skunks—”

  “Yes, we are!” Mrs. C cries. I want to strangle her.

  Jax bends down and looks through one of the holes in the planks. “You’ll have to lure them out then install lattice or chicken wire to keep them from getting back into their den. If they have kits—”

  His voice is drowned out by a blast of barking dogs followed by the sound of Lulu shouting, “Hello, everyone!”

  “Oh, what next?” I mutter, stepping carefully to the porch railing and waving to my best friend.

  Her red hair is flying around her head in crazy spirals as she walks five dogs up the sandy lane—or are they walking her? It’s hard to tell with the way she half-runs behind them. The mutts range in size from a small Chihuahua mix to a pretty collie that reminds me of Lassie.

  “I’m here on the promise of muffins!” She waves at us, smiling as she approaches. Her eyes land on Jax and widen then fly back to me. “I didn’t know you had company?”

  “It’s the home improvement guy I was telling you about. The one who’s going to be staying here.”

  She’s at the bottom of the porch now, tying the leashes up to a special post I set up just for her, complete with a few large bowls of water. “Oh, Hi.”

  Jax sends her a wave, a small smile on his face. “Jax Roland. The Right Stud.”

  Lulu’s eyebrows shoot straight up. “If you do say so yourself.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, it’s a fun name. You have to be memorable if you want to make it to the big leagues.”

  “You got my attention,” Lulu murmurs, coming up the stairs to join us. She rakes her green eyes over him, I’m sure taking in the styled blond hair and chiseled jawline. “I’m Lulu, Ashton’s best friend. She tells me everything—although, she left out how hot you are.”

  I clear my throat. “He’s also the guy from the Smoky Siren last night.”

  Lulu rears back. “Oh, shit. You screwed that up.”

  Exactly.

  Jax’s face reddens. “I can explain—”

  Waving my hand, I cut him off and motion for her to go inside. “We’re just finishing up the tour. I’ve already set out breakfast in the kitchen if you want to head inside.”

  “I’d rather hang out here and get to know Jax.” She’s got a twinkle in her eye that I know means she’s up to mischief. “So you carry a hammer? Any relation to Thor?”

  “Good one, Lu!” Mrs. C calls through the screen.

  “Different type of hammer.” Jax doesn’t miss a beat. “So… no.”

  “I see.” My friend’s eyes narrow. “And are you married? Did you leave the bar to buy baby formula last night?”

  Jax does a slow blink. “No.”

  Lulu chews on her lip, her gaze lasered in on him. “You know what? I believe you.”

  Good lord. Between her and Mrs. C, I can’t even have a conversation with him about the house.

  “Lulu, we really need to finish here, and I’m sure this is terribly boring to you—”

  “I’m not bored in the least—” she starts.

  “Go inside. Please.” I flare my eyes at her and she seems to get it, because she lets out a little sigh of disappointment.

  “Fine.” She flips around and tosses a final look in Jax’s direction. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Right Stud. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

  Turning to Jax, my chest is tight as I wait for the verdict. “Sorry about that.”

  “Nothing I’m not used to. Is that everything on your list?”

  Glancing down at my notebook, I do a little shrug. “The only things left are just minor interior fixes. A few of the spokes on the bannister are wobbly. One of the bathrooms needs a mini-makeover—the one in your bedroom as a matter of fact. We call it the haunted bathroom.” His brow lowers, and I try to hurry past my slip. “Maybe we can just leave it for character.”

  “What makes it haunted?”

  “Uh… the lights flicker at odd, random times. I’ve changed the bulbs, but nothing seems to work.” I glance up, and he’s still making that super-focused, stern face. It’s actually kind of sexy.

  “Sounds like an electrical problem. If you leave it, it could cause a fire. Burn the entire house down.”

  “Oh, my lord!” My stomach tightens more. Electricians are almost as expensive as roofers.

  Letting out a sigh, he shoves his hands in his back pockets and looks over the place. I’m not sure I can breathe waiting for what he’s about to say.

  “What do you think?” My voice is small. “Is this something that would work for your show?”

  The muscle in his square jaw moves before he answers, and my heart sinks as I brace for his rejection.

  “It’s the absolute worst style of house for a damp climate like this. You’ll always be keeping up with repairs.” He holds his hands up as if he’s framing the house in a camera. “Still, it’s a gorgeous view, and for a home repair show, it’s kind of perfect. Lots of common but interesting projects for the viewers. I can picture it now, a golden sunset on the Atlantic with your house in the background. It will be fantastic.” He looks back at me with his hands still up, putting me in his frame. “Having a beautiful girl like you as the owner adds to the charm.” Dropping his hands, he grins sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m not flirting, and I hope you’re not offended. Just stating a fact. My viewers will adore you.”

  His gaze lingers on my face, and I feel myself blushing. “You really think so?”

  He nods. “I think you and your house are perfect for my show.”

  For the first time in weeks, pure joy fills me. Without thinking, I jump forward, throwing my arms around his neck and giving him the biggest hug. “Oh, thank you!”

  His chest is a solid wall of steel and he smells divine, like sandalwood and citrus. Warm hands slide down to my waist, and my stomach flutters.

  I step back quickly, twisting my hands in front of me. “I’m sorry. That was totally unprofessional. I’ll never do it again.”

  My eyes are fixed on his beach-style loafers, which are definitely not the look of a handyman, but I get it. He’s got two sides: Mr. Suit and Mr. Stud. I imagine him working on my porch, sweating in the South Carolina sun with a hammer in his hand... Thor’s got nothing on The Right Stud.

  He cuts through my daydream with a laugh. “It’s okay. Enthusiasm is vital for big jobs. It’s a great response, especially for when we have a spectacular finish.”

  My face flames at the thought of finishing spectacularly with him, and I cough to cover my swoon. He clears his throat, and when our eyes catch, I’m pretty sure he was thinking the same thing I was.

  He’s quickly back to business. “Let me run the numbers for the repairs and see what we’re up against.”

  “Thank you. I can’t even express how happy I am that you’re interested.”

  He nods. “And about last night—”

  I wave him off. “Let’s just forget it ever happened. Clean slate. I had a few drinks and acted out of character. Anyway, it’s not like it can ever happen again, since we’re working together.” My laugh sounds nervous, and I inhale deeply. “What I meant is, I’m not looking for anything serious right now, but I’m looking forward to our business relationship—as friends.”

  He frowns but then nods. “Okay.”

  I’ve got to get out of here before I say something ridiculous. “Let me show you to your room.”

/>   Six

  Ashton

  Jax stops to grab a suitcase from the trunk of his gray Audi S8, and I lead him up the staircase to the second level. After a brief tour of the sitting room, with its huge window overlooking the shore, I lead him to the suite on the east side of the house.

  “Mine is on the opposite end.” I point down the long hallway. I’m already sweating thinking about him sleeping just down the hall from me.

  “Ah, you’ve got the sunset view.”

  “It’s my favorite room.” When I was younger, my grandmother had decorated it for me in a sea theme with starfish and mermaids. I’ve never had the heart to update it.

  “Your room is east, but the windows face the beach, which is south.”

  “No early morning sun in the face?” he laughs.

  “Right.”

  Opening the door, I show him the nautical-themed room I updated myself. A plush, navy gingham duvet covers the queen-size bed placed underneath a wide window with a view of the beach. An anchor rug is on the hardwood floors, tying everything together.

  “Nice bed,” he says, and I blink, picturing him naked and rolling around with me in it.

  I clear my throat and show him the bathroom. Thankfully, the light is working when I flick it on. The toilet is oddly silent too.

  I laugh and look over at him. “Looks like the ghosts don’t mind you staying here.”

  He grins. “I’ll investigate and fix it for you.”

  My insides warm. I bet he can fix more than a light…

  Ashton! Stop daydreaming. For the sake of all scorned women, leave him be!

  I follow him back into the bedroom. “Where do the bird and Mrs. C stay?” he asks.

  “They have a room on the main floor. Sometimes she has trouble with her knees, so it’s easier on her.”

  “So you and I are the only ones up here?”

  “For the moment.” I struggle to hold back more visions of the two of us up here, all alone.