Give Us a Chance (Wheeler Brothers #2)

by Allie Everhart

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Give Us a Chance

  By Allie Everhart

  Give Us a Chance

  By Allie Everhart

  Copyright © 2016 Allie Everhart

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Waltham Publishing, LLC

  Cover Design by Okay Creations

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, things, and events are fictitious, and any similarities to real persons (live or dead), things, or events are coincidental and not intended by the author. Brand names of products mentioned in this book are used for reference only and the author acknowledges that any trademarks and product names are the property of their respective owners.

  The author holds exclusive rights to this work and unauthorized duplication is prohibited. No part of this book is to be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jake

  "You've gotta give up on this girl," Nash says as he tosses his burger wrapper into the trash. "You're starting to look desperate." He takes a napkin from the stack and wipes his hands. "Actually you've been looking desperate for months. Now you're starting to look pathetic."

  "I'm not here to see her." I tighten the cap on my bottle of water and stand up. "I'm checking on the project."

  "It's my project. You don't need to be here."

  "I'm checking on the status." I walk over to the glass partition that separates the office from the rest of the library. I spot Ivy in the children's section, hovered over a square piece of wood that she'll have turned into a masterpiece by the end of the week. She's so damn talented. Best damn carpenter in the city. And freaking hot. Even from here, I can see her tight ass in those jeans and it gets me going.

  "Jake." I hear Nash behind me and turn around.

  "What?"

  He grins and leans back in his chair. "Did you hear anything I just said? Or were you too busy drooling over Ivy to notice?"

  "Would you stop teasing him?" Callie walks in and over to Nash.

  Callie is his girlfriend. They live together and are in love to the point that it gets annoying to be around them. They're always touching and kissing, and they don't care who's watching. I'm happy for Nash. I just wish he'd tone down the PDA. I don't need to see that. Or maybe I'm just jealous. I never keep a girl around long enough to get to that stage. The stage when you're so in love you can't help but show it off to the world. Let everyone know the girl is yours and yours alone.

  I don't have girlfriends. I sleep around. Play the field. I've been doing it since high school and I've loved every minute of it, but I have to admit, it's starting to get old. I'm 23, and by now I should've had at least one girlfriend but instead I've had a random stream of girls come in and out of my life for a night, and that's it. But that's how I wanted it. I didn't want a girlfriend.

  "I have to give him shit," Nash says, pulling Callie onto his lap. "That's what brothers do."

  "You done with this?" I ask Callie. Her half-eaten burger is still on the table.

  "Yeah, I'm done."

  I go to toss it out, but Nash lurches forward and grabs it. "You can't throw that out." He stuffs it in his mouth, still holding Callie on his lap.

  She shakes her head. "Don't you ever get full?"

  "Nope." He smiles and reaches around her for a napkin and wipes his mouth. "Can you grab my pop?"

  Callie hands it to him and he takes a swig. He hands it back to her and she takes a swig for herself, then sets it down.

  "I gotta go," I say, checking my phone.

  "You gonna at least say hello to her?" Nash asks.

  I glance up from my phone. "For the last time, I didn't come here to see Ivy. I'm here to check on the project. That's it."

  Nash takes Callie's hand, threading their fingers together. Their constant touching is so automatic, I don't think he even knows he's doing it. "You can get a status update over the phone."

  "I could, but then you wouldn't get to see my smiling face." I give him an overly wide grin as I take my coat off the chair.

  "Don't listen to Nash," Callie says. "We like it when you stop by."

  "Especially when you bring us lunch," Nash says. "Next time, bring extra and we'll invite Ivy to eat with us."

  "Yeah, like that's not obvious." I roll my eyes.

  "Dude, she knows you like her. You've already asked her out."

  "That was months ago. I'm sure she forgot about it."

  "You asked her out more than once," Nash says. "She didn't forget about it. And she knows you stop by here all the time to see her."

  "Yeah? So? What are you trying to say?"

  "I'm saying she's not interested. Either that or you're not trying hard enough."

  "How the hell hard do I have to try? It's a date. One date."

  Nash grins. "So you admit you still want to date her?"

  I ignore him and check my phone again. There's a text that just popped up from Tracy, a girl I met last night when I stopped for a beer after work with some of the guys from my construction crew.

  "Looks like I already have a date," I say, holding up my phone. "I'm going out with Tracy tonight."

  "Who's Tracy?" Callie asks.

  "Some girl I met at the bar last night. We talked a few minutes. She was with a group of her friends."

  "You know, if you'd stop doing these random hookups," Nash says, "you might actually get a girlfriend."

  "I don't need a girlfriend." I put my phone in my pocket, then realize I forgot to text Tracy back. I'll do it later.

  "What exactly did you say to her?" Callie asks me.

  "Who?"

  "Ivy. When you asked her out, what did you say?"

  "I don't remember. I think I just said something about wanting to hang out sometime."

  "No wonder she didn't agree to it." Callie gets up and comes over to me. "First of all, the words 'hang out' imply that you consider her a friend, like one of the guys. That's not date language."

  "That's not true," Nash says to her. "I asked you to hang out with me when we were dating."

  She turns to him. "We weren't dating then. We were just friends when you said that."

  "But it worked. You let me hang out with you."

  "Only because I'd made it clear we weren't dating so the 'hang out' term was appropriate in that situation. We were just two friends hanging out."

  "We did a lot more than hang out." He smiles.

  She smiles back. "Yeah, well, our situation was different." She turns back to me. "Anyway, if you want this girl for more than just sex—wait, is that the only reason you want her? For sex? Because if so then—"

  "No," I say, but then wonder why I'm doing this. All my past relationships, if you can even call them that, have just been about sex. Nothing else. So what's
my plan with Ivy? Am I going to date her for real? "Go ahead," I say to Callie since I interrupted her.

  "I was just saying that if you really want this girl, you need to make it clear that you want to take her on a date. Be specific. Tell her you want to take her for dinner and then suggest a restaurant."

  "That seems too formal. I'd feel like a kid asking a girl to prom."

  "It's not formal. It's how you're supposed to do it."

  "And that's what Nash did?" I chuckle, because I know he didn't.

  She glances at Nash. "Well, no, but whatever."

  "Hey." Nash gets up and stands behind Callie, wrapping his arms around her. "I made you dinner. That was better than taking you somewhere. And I brought you flowers I picked out of the weeds, and cheap wine from the gas station."

  She laughs and tilts her head up to him. "Yeah, you were so romantic."

  He leans down and kisses her.

  I look away. "Are we done here? I need to go."

  Callie focuses on me again. "Just ask her to dinner. And be sure to mention the restaurant you want to take her to. That way it looks like you put thought into it. She'll appreciate that."

  "I don't think that'll work," Nash says to me, still holding Callie against him.

  "Of course it'll work." Callie elbows him in the ribs. "Why wouldn't it?"

  "Because Ivy isn't that type of girl."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

  "It means she's the type of girl who can see through your shit. Your pick-up lines aren't going to work on a girl like her. Neither are your expensive clothes or that overpriced haircut of yours."

  "And what makes you an expert?"

  "I've been working with her for months now. She may be small, but she's tough. That's why she's able to work in construction. She doesn't let the guys push her around. She doesn't take shit from anyone. You worked with her. You know what she's like."

  Nash and I both work in construction, renovating old houses and buildings. We work for our dad, who owns Wheeler Construction and Renovation. Bryce and Austin, my two younger brothers, also work for him. I used to do a lot of the hands-on work but this past year I've been managing projects and dealing more with the sales side of the business. I'm a people person and I'm good at persuading people to do things, which makes me a good team leader and salesman. But for some reason, my skills in persuasion haven't worked on Ivy. I can't even get her attention, let alone get her to date me.

  I met Ivy last year when I hired her to work on a renovation I was in charge of. It was a huge project that got a lot of press. We restored an old Victorian mansion that's now a historic landmark that's open to tourists. The project started last summer and went through the fall. Ivy was recommended by one of my subs as being one of the best carpenters in the city. She's an expert craftsman. She can replicate even the most intricate carvings, which is what she did with the Victorian. She carved the banister and the crown moldings and the detailing on the fireplace mantel based on photos I gave her of what the place used to look like. It turned out even better than I thought it would.

  When the project ended and I was giving tours to the media, I made sure to point out the woodworking Ivy had done. But I didn't need to. It was the first thing people noticed when they walked in the house. Everyone was impressed and assumed it was a guy who did the work. An older man. But I told them it was Ivy, a 23-year-old carpenter who is more skilled in her trade than guys twice her age who've been doing this for years.

  "I got an idea." Nash has that grin on his face that means he's up to something.

  "What?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  "I'll give you a hundred bucks if you get her to go out with you. I'll even give you a month to do it."

  I laugh. "A month? Seriously? I could get her to agree to it a lot sooner than that."

  "You've been trying for months, bro, and gotten nowhere."

  "I wasn't trying. Like Callie said, I was asking her out like a friend."

  "Then try again. Give her the full-on Jake treatment. See if she'll come around."

  Callie waves her hand in front of me. "No, don't do that. Just be normal."

  Nash laughs and mutters, "Yeah, be normal."

  Callie cringes. "Sorry, that's not what I meant. I mean, don't use pick-up lines. Most girls don't like that."

  "I used a few lines on you." Nash leans down and kisses her neck.

  "Those weren't really pick-up lines." She flips around and kisses him on the lips.

  "Okay, I've had enough of you two. I seriously need to get going." I turn toward the door. "I told Dad I'd meet him at the house on Martin Street in a half hour."

  "Hundred bucks," Nash says.

  "Forget it," I say as I open the door.

  "Five hundred."

  I turn back around. "Seriously? You'd give me that much just to ask her out? You know I was going to ask her out anyway."

  "Yeah, but to get the money she has to say yes."

  "I don't want your damn money. Or your advice. You don't know shit about girls."

  "And yet I've got one and you don't." He grins, then kisses Callie again and keeps kissing her. "Close the door," I hear him say as I'm leaving.

  They'll probably have sex in the office. It's totally unprofessional and yet I've done it on some of my jobs. Okay, maybe more than some. But at least I waited until after the workers were gone. Then again, if Ivy agreed to it, I'd do her anytime, anywhere.

  I watch her off in the distance, leaning over her workbench. Shit, she turns me on. Those perky breasts. That tight ass. That long, dark silky hair. I've never seen it down. She always has it in a ponytail, but in my dreams, she always has it down. Falling over my chest as she rides me, her breasts hovering just inches from my face, her—

  "Hey, Jake." I turn and see Dan walking by. He was on my crew for the Victorian.

  "Hey." I wave at him but he's already gone.

  Shit. I hope he didn't notice me staring at Ivy, but I'm sure he did. I'm so damn obvious about it. But whenever I'm around her, I can't stop staring at her. Nash is right. I'm pathetic. I come here at least twice a week to see her, but then don't talk to her. Instead, I eat lunch with my brother and his girlfriend, like a third wheel.

  This isn't me. I'm not that guy. I'm Jake Wheeler. Mr. Confident. I go up to the hottest girl in the bar and buy her a drink and convince her to go home with me. I have girls like Tracy sending me naughty texts during lunch, telling me what she wants to do to me later tonight.

  So why the hell am I letting this girl intimidate me? I straighten up and smooth out my leather jacket and casually walk over to her. She doesn't notice me there. Her head is down, her eyes focused on the carving she's making in the wood. It's a picture of two kids, a boy and a girl, sharing a book. How the hell does she do that? How does she make a picture from a piece of wood?

  I haven't even said a word to her and my heart's already beating faster. I feel nervous, and I'm never nervous. Even when I was doing all those interviews on TV last fall, I never got nervous.

  "Hey, Ivy," I say, trying to sound cool and relaxed.

  "No," she says, keeping her head down as she picks up a piece of sandpaper.

  "No what?"

  "No, I'm not going out with you."

  Shit. How did she know that's why I came over here?

  "I didn't ask," I say.

  "No, but you were about to." She leans down more, lightly sanding the edge of the book in her picture, creating the look of pages. Damn, that's incredible. I'm seriously amazed by her talent.

  "I was just coming over to say hello," I tell her. "We haven't talked since the Victorian. How have you been?"

  "Good." She flips her ponytail to her other shoulder, exposing her neck. I'd love to run my lips down that neck. Down that smooth, perfect skin. My eyes shift down to her t-shirt, a red v-neck that fits close to her body.

  "Was that it?" She catches me staring at her breasts and stands up, looking annoyed with me. That's just great. I've been
here less than a minute and already screwed this up.

  "Good? That's all you have to say?"

  She sets the sandpaper down and crosses her arms over her chest. "What do you want to know?"

  "How was your Christmas?"

  She's staring at me like that's the lamest question ever asked. Considering Christmas was weeks ago, it is a lame question, but it's the first thing that popped in my head.

  "Let me guess," I say, since she hasn't answered. "It was good."

  She starts to smile, but then quickly shuts it down. "Yeah." She shrugs. "Actually, that's a lie. It sucked. But it's like that every year so..." Her voice trails off and when she sees the questioning look on my face, she explains, "My mom died at Christmas. It was years ago, but still."

  "Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I rake my hand through my hair, which I tend to do when I'm nervous or uncomfortable.

  "It's okay. You didn't know." She smiles slightly, but then it disappears again. "Well, I need to get back to work."

  Why is she always telling me to get lost? I know she doesn't have a boyfriend. I need to try this again, using a different approach. Nash and Callie are right. My usual techniques aren't going to work this time.

  "So do you like to eat?" I ask.

  It's such a strange question that she laughs a little. "Yeah. Why?"

  "Let's go out tonight. It's on me."

  "I told you I'm not going out with you."

  "It's not a date. It's just two people eating dinner. You said you like to eat, right?"

  "And if I were to say yes, which I'm not, where would you take me?"

  I pause to think. "A little place just down the street from here."

  "Titiana's? The Mexican place?"

  "No."

  "Marco's Italian?"

  I shake my head. "No. This place serves American food."

  "Just tell me."

  "It's a little place called..." I pause for dramatic effect. "Burger King."

  She bursts out laughing, which is what I was hoping for. I wanted to hear her laugh. I like her laugh. "Burger King? That's where you'd take a girl on a date?"

  "It's not a date, remember? And what's wrong with Burger King? Flame-broiled burgers. And you get to have it your way. Extra pickles. No mustard. Whatever you want."