Life in a Rut, Love not Included (Love Not Included series Book 1)

by J. D. Hollyfield

  Anxiously, I push back from him and send my shaky hands straight to his pants. I make a weak attempt to unbutton his pants, while his free hand moves to the front of my stomach and inside my shirt. Oh, heavens above. His hands are so hot on my skin, I’m sure that he is going to leave marks. While he moves upward towards my Bs, I push my butt back to get better access. If I don’t touch goods in less than five seconds, I’m going to cry. I jerk my butt back further which lands on the steering wheel, sending the horn honking dramatically into the night. We break apart, startled by the unwanted sound. We are both breathing heavily and are struggling to get our crazed emotions in order. We take the next couple of seconds to stare at each other before I break the silence.

  “Holy cow,” I whisper very slowly.

  Jack’s only response is a soft chuckle. He takes his hand from under my shirt and presses the lever on the side to adjust the seat back.

  Then, in the distance, we notice the front porch light turn on. Probably my mom wondering why there’s a blaring horn going off outside the window. I take one last look at Jack and separate my lower self from his lap. I may have groaned out loud at the loss of his warm body. We both sit in his truck staring forward for a minute until the light goes off.

  “Well,” I say. “I’m not sure where that came from, but thank you.”

  Jack laughs again. “Well, you’re welcome, and come back soon.”

  I giggle in return. We fall silent again.

  “I should go inside. My mother is probably sitting there peeking out the blinds, waiting to catch me in action. Unfortunately I lacked adolescent outbursts when I was younger. This might be making up for all the lost years of catching her teenage daughter in the act.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks for the wonderful, albeit eventful, evening. I’ll . . . uh . . . I’ll see you around,” I say, pretty sure with a blush in my cheeks.

  Jack nods at me in amusement.

  Seeing as it’s my cue to exit stage left, I open the door and jump out. I walk to the front door and look back at Jack who is still staring my way. I give him the lame-o wave, because at this point my brain has taken a sabbatical, and walk inside.

  I shut the door behind me and lean against the wooden frame. I stand there until I can no longer hear the purrs of his truck engine. After what feels like ages, I take in a huge breath and exhale. The light in the living room suddenly shoots on, and I jump up probably three feet in the air. I see my mother crouched over by the couch in a lean-to position.

  “Oh boy, does that man look like a nice kisser . . .”

  I gape at my mother in horror. “What?! You scared the hell out of me!”

  “Well that would seem to happen, when your head is stuck in the gutter, dear,” she says, and then she climbs off the couch, walks past me, and up the stairs back to bed.

  Mental reminder: Move out of my parents’ house.

  I LOVE DREAMING. I was always one who could dream all night and be able to remember them when I woke up. Depending on what was going on in my life, the food I ate, the drinks I consumed, my dreams were always so wild and out there, but they always felt so real. At my current state of dreaming, I am in the most wondrous position you can think of. Lying on my back, I have Jack on top on me, and my legs are wrapped around his strong waist. My hands are working their way down his bare chest. The touch of his hard body sends a wave of ecstasy down my spine.

  I work my hands down past his hard abs and make my way to his backside to grab his firm ass. Oh god, he is so hard and delicious, and oh god, I can feel his bulge press against my lady parts as his head dips into the curve of my neck and he begins to nibble his way up to my ear. Oh god, I love dreams. I can hear his voice calling my name and it’s the one thing that is going to send me over the edge.

  “Sarah?” I hear it again, and holy mother does his voice feel real and hot against my ear, moving his way around my neck.

  “Oh Jack . . .” I whimper, possibly out loud since this is getting way too intense.

  His hands feel so real, grazing against my cheek. “Yes?”

  What the hell?

  My eyes fly open to a very close, very real-life Jack leaning over me with a guilty twinkle in his eyes. My reaction is swift and not smooth, as I fly up head-first straight forward, making contact with his head. We both touch our heads.

  “Ouch!” he says. “Why did you just head butt me?”

  “What are you doing in here?” I say quite frantically, rubbing at my forehead. How long has he been in here? Oh god, was I just moaning his name?

  “Well, you were moaning my name,” he echoes.

  Kill. Me. Now.

  “What are you doing in my room?” I sit up, pulling my blankets closer to my chest.

  “Your mother let me in. Her and your father went for breakfast. Wanted me to let them know when you got up. But I see that you were busy enjoying yourself.”

  Has anyone ever actually died of embarrassment? Because I think I’m about to be the first.

  “I’m not really sure what you heard or think was going on, but I was just having the most horrible dream.” Yep, I’m going to try and play this one off.

  Jack bursts out laughing.

  Fail.

  Moving on. “So why are you up here, Jack?” I attempt to regain control of the conversation.

  “Well I was thinking about your list. And I wanted to make you an offer.” He sits down on my bed and adjusts his waist to face me. “Now hear me out before you jump the gun and say no . . .”

  “OK, do I want to know where you’re going with this?”

  He grabs one of my hands that’s clutching the blanket and pulls it down and squeezes. “So,” he begins, “I think I have some ideas to help you conquer some of your list. Starting with: Complete a goal. Now hear me out. I have some small projects that have been sitting on the backburner at the site. They could use your eyes and expertise. I was hoping that in-between job and soul searching, you could spend some time helping me with these projects. I will pay you of course. And I will also make sure you don’t stop until they are complete. We both win. I get work that’s been building up completed and you cross completing a goal off your list.”

  He pauses and waits for my reaction. He wants me to work with him? Thinking about getting to spend more time with him on a daily basis is almost a no-brainer right there. But the thought that he actually spent time thinking about how to help me is so touching I don’t even know what to say. I want to play it cool, but I doubt I’m able to hide the emotion in my face when I respond.

  “Wow, Jack. I think it’s really thoughtful that you think I can be of use to you. I would love to help you out . . . and help cross off a goal of course.” I finish speaking quickly. I don’t want to look too desperate.

  “I have some work to explain to the guys outside then, and if you’re up for it, we can take a trip to my site office and I can go over the projects I have, and you can tell me which ones you’re interested in.”

  I’m interested in you. “That would be great.”

  Jack gets up and leaves me to my thoughts. I hear the kitchen door open and close. Holy cow! This guy has to be fake. I get to spend all day working side-by-side with him and his sexy man self. Oh man! Today is definitely a shower day. I jump out of bed because I have Ke$ha blaring in my head and I’m getting pumped up for this. I begin to dance like a crazy teenager in my room.

  I can’t remember the last time I felt honest-to-god happy. Ever since Jack came into my life, I feel like I have been able to actually breathe again. And now he is giving me a chance to spread my wings and build my confidence back up. Not that he even explained what I would be doing but that will be another topic of conversation. I simply dance and giggle. I shake my behind and do a little boogie up and down, while spinning of course. Today is going to be an awesome day!

  Dance time takes a quick halt because I’m nearly spun-out and about to go down. I start to slow myself down and take a peek out my window, hoping to ge
t a nice look at Jack. To my horror, he and three foremen are standing there staring up at my window, shit-eatin’ grins on their faces as they witness my dance-off.

  Mental note #827: I need to get some blinds.

  SHOWER, CHECK, MAKEUP, CHECK. Tight jeans and semi-showing cleavage shirt, check.

  Practically skipping down the steps, I meet Jack outside. He seems to be working with one of his men and directing him to what looks like some of the final stages of the addition. A bit of sadness sets in knowing he will be done with the project at some point and won’t be popping up around here every morning.

  As I wait for him I think about how good it’s going to feel to get back on the horse. Just getting my hands wet with a new project puts a perk back in my step. As much as I now hate anything Hamilton Corp, I still miss the job. I definitely don’t miss my last encounter with my co-workers though. For a moment, I lose myself to thoughts of the last day I walked through those doors.

  I can’t say I am very proud of my actions that day at Hamilton Corp, but as they say, you can’t turn back time, so . . . After running out of the apartment and then breaking down in the middle of an intersection, thankfully a complete stranger saw pity on me and helped me at least get onto a sidewalk. I think the poor woman thought someone had died because who would act like such a fool for anything less than death? Little did she know it was the death of my bubble . . . Eventually I pulled myself together and made it to a local hotel. I couldn’t go back to the apartment and I definitely could not go home.

  I’m not sure how, but I made it to a hotel room just in time for my second breakdown. I undressed and threw myself in the shower with the water scolding hot. I cried; for how long, I wouldn’t even know. The time I spent in the hotel is still a bit blurry to me. I guess when your mind wants to help your heart it causes you to forget, pushing away all the bad. I do know that I eventually crawled out of the shower and into the bed where I slept and cried for two days straight.

  It took me that long to stop being so hurt and to begin feeling angry. I remember the heat fueling through my body as I paced the room thinking about what I saw and why. I had given everything to him. I stood by him through all those unspoken moments when he lost his cool and his hands did the talking for him. I played the pretty, perfect girlfriend and did everything for him. I loved him. I couldn’t process my questions quickly enough before the next one popped in my head. How long had it been going on? When did it start? Was this the first time? Were they ever going to tell me? Does he even love me? Did he ever love me? But the one major question that kept resurfacing was: how could he do this to me?

  Only having the clothes I came in, I threw the hotel robe to the ground and dressed. Not putting any thought to the consequences but only focusing on my anger, I called down to the front desk and checked out. I grabbed my things and hailed a cab, heading straight to Hamilton Corp.

  When I got to the 15th floor, the elevator dinged. When it opened I stormed through. I felt the thick silence in the air as I walked through the building, heading straight towards Steve’s office. Right before I arrived at his door, my eyes caught the conference room door open and a group walking out. Among them was Steve.

  It took him a few seconds, which seemed like hours, to catch my scolding stare, and he stopped in his tracks. I could tell he saw the instability in my eyes and that this scene was not going to be as quiet as he hoped.

  “Sar . . .” he said slowly, like he was trying to calm me down with his slow draw-out of my name.

  “When were you going to tell me?” I asked in a calm but threatening tone that sent all eyes around us back and forth from me to Steve.

  “Sar, why don’t you come into my office and we can talk?”

  “I asked you a question, or can you not be honest with that either? When. Did. YOU start sleeping with my roommate?!”

  I could hear the gasps around the entire floor. If I had been more tactful with my breakdown, I probably wouldn’t have wished that the entire office had just been informed of Steve’s infidelity and my pathetic confrontation.

  “Sarah. Quiet down. Now is not the time. I said let’s go talk—”

  He got mid-way through his sentence when my brain shut off and my impulsiveness took over, and I turned to my left, picked up a plant from his secretary’s desk and hurled it towards his head—unfortunately missing him, two board members and his secretary, and it crashed into the conference room wall instead, spraying plant and dirt everywhere.

  “I don’t need to step into your office, Steve! I need you to fuck off! I hope it was all worth it. Hopefully she can meet your demanding expectations as your pushover arm candy. You and this whole place can shove it! I’m done! With you! With this place! All of it! I quit! Take that to your office!”

  I then proceeded to pivot, brush my hands down my skirt to smooth away the fake creases, and walk confidently to the elevator. I pressed the down button and waited while feeling an office full of open-mouthed stares on my back. The door opened and I walked in, hoping the world would swallow me and make me disappear.

  “You ready?” Jack catches my attention and breaks my thoughts back to the present. I brush off the negative memories and continue towards his truck. Nothing is going to ruin this new adventure for me.

  “Yep,” I say. “Let’s go, boss,” I joke with a warm grin on my face. He walks behind me and gives me a quick spanking on my behind. I jolt at the connection of his hand to my butt. He passes me with a devilish grin on his face, then takes a big leap into the truck.

  “So we have about twenty minutes until we get to my office. Let’s use this time to conduct an official interview,” he says with humor in his voice. I look over at him and simply laugh.

  “Well I would most definitely agree. I mean, I hope you don’t just go around hiring anybody,” I reply playfully.

  “OK, so why don’t you tell me what your strengths are?”

  I scoot up straighter in my seat and turn to him with a serious look on my face. “Well, Jack. May I call you Jack?” He laughs and nods for me to continue. “Well, I have a degree in Marketing, Jack. I worked at a marketing firm for many years, which qualifies me to basically work magic and solve world hunger. My best ideas come to me when I am fed gallons of coffee and sugar. Speaking of which, may I ask what sort of caffeine device you have in your office?”

  “Oh, well, I believe it is a standard coffee maker. Most definitely not made in this century. Is that going to be a deal breaker for you?”

  “We are still in negotiations, Jack. An updated version may need to be my added incentive.”

  Jack throws his head back and laughs. If I had my phone, I would most likely be recording that sound to listen to later. Or every night before bed. Or during my . . . alone time.

  OK, enough Sarah.

  Twenty minutes later we reach Calloway Construction. We both get out of the truck to see all the commotion going on around his site. Jack seems at ease with all the comings and goings of men and materials.

  “Wow, this place is busy. Don’t you have to be here instructing everyone?” He seems so important. In a way I feel a bit guilty that I am pulling him away from his main focus.

  “Everything that runs on this site is supervised by my Site Manager.” Jack points to a tall bronzed blond. The guy tips his hard hat, and I recognize him from the other week.

  “Ah, McHottie,” I say as if in no introductions are even needed.

  “Excuse me?” he asks in confusion.

  “Oh nothing, we met that day I came here and gave you a run for your money.”

  Jack laughs and presses his hand on my lower back to signal me to continue walking. We head into the trailer I entered last week and walk back to his office. He opens the door for me and I walk in first. I didn’t take the time before to look around, but now that I’m not in such a hurry I take the time to absorb all the framed work and blueprints on the walls.

  “Wow, are all these projects you’ve done?” I ask. They are breathtaking
. I can tell they were drawn by someone with a very strong architecture background. They are simply flawless.

  Jack walks up to stand next to me while I admire a drawing of a beautiful ranch house looking out on a plot of land. The detail is incredible. “This is my house. My dad and I started working on it together. Once he passed I was only able to work on it here and there. It’s done enough for me to live comfortably in it. But it still needs a lot of work.”

  “Wow,” I say as I stare at the drawings and the actual photo prints that are framed alongside it.

  “Well, maybe I will have to show you the real thing sometime. I have done amazing things to the bedroom,” he adds, looking at me with his cute little sideways grin. When I turn to look at him, I notice a ping of challenge seeping out of his glare.

  “Well let me be the judge of that, Mr. Callaway.”

  It takes two seconds.

  Two seconds for him to pin me to the wall and crush his mouth to mine. I can’t get his mouth around mine fast enough. Our tongues are lashing into each other’s mouths and both sets of hands go into each other’s shirts. His hands grab my boobs and we both moan in unison. Oh god, this feels so good. He feels so good. My body fits so perfectly into his embrace. This man might ruin me for any other man. Why am I thinking about any other man right now? God, I just want it to be Jack. I can feel how this is affecting him by the strong bulge in his pants pressing against my stomach. I’m pretty sure the only way this make-out session should end is with us on the floor with our clothes off . . .

  A knock at the door startles us both and Jack pulls away faster than he had attacked. The door opens and McHottie walks in.

  “Hey boss, I need you to sign—” He looks my way and then at Jack. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were preoccupied. I’ll come back later,” he announces with a suspicious grin that starts to spread along his face. He turns to exit the office.

  “Wait, Bill. Just, um. I was just showing Sarah around. Sarah, this is Bill, my Site Manager,” Jack explains and gestures his hand towards Bill as an introduction. He says to Bill, “She will be doing some contracting work for us.”