Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Maybe this guy I look like is an ex…or maybe even weirder, a deceased partner.
I try not to entertain this kind of speculation since it doesn’t change what I have to do.
I take a bite of my chili, and it’s hard to tell if I’m just that hungry or if it’s really that good, but I’m a few spoonfuls into it before Ryan says, “Sorry. I was caught off guard earlier. Simon didn’t tell me he’d hired someone. But we start at six a.m. tomorrow. There are only four of us—including you—so it’s going to be hard labor, and we’ll go until four in the afternoon. You’ll get an hour break for lunch and two additional fifteen-minute breaks. We don’t work weekends, unless there’s a big project or we’re on a deadline. I don’t handle the money stuff, so if you feel like you deserve overtime or something, that’s for you to handle with Simon. Any questions?”
Again, this suggests the guy’s a good boss. I like that he doesn’t beat around the bush.
“I don’t think I have any right now.”
“You will. Just make sure to ask them because I’d rather you ask a dumb question than do a dumb thing.”
I chuckle. “Okay, will do.”
As he continues eating, I study his face. His body. What will his lips feel like? This guy seems like he could be really bossy in the bedroom. What if we get in and I’m not able to perform? Is it wrong to deceive this guy and act like I’m into him?
I shake those thoughts from my head.
I’ve got to do this.
Regardless of what I feel is right or wrong or whom I’m sexually attracted to, I have to put all that aside.
I’ll do anything for my sis. Even this.
3
RYAN
It’s only been two days since he arrived, but the extra pair of hands has already helped us make progress on the yard. This morning, we’re working on the flower beds on the west wing, getting in new flowers, shrubs, and foliage.
Forsyth removes the tiller from the bed. “I’m gonna head to the next one. This noob gonna be okay if I leave him with you?” He winks at Jonas, who smiles.
Jonas hasn’t struggled to charm my workhands, and I’m sure it’s in no small part due to how he’s thrown himself into the work.
Forsyth rolls the tiller alongside the house, and Jonas and I shovel the soil for the new roses. It’s a particularly humid morning, and all the guys tossed their shirts off before noon, so it’s hard for me not to notice Jonas’s body as his shovel hits the ground. His firm, muscular physique shakes, thick meaty pecs and biceps continuing to tremble in the shock wave, which reverberates to his firm torso, impressive obliques disappearing behind the waistband of his shorts. His body assures me it’s not just his face that reminds me of Kieran.
“What kind of construction did you say you did?” I ask as I sculpt a hole in the ground.
I’ve asked the occasional question, but mostly kept him busy. I want to see what kind of man he is, and nothing tells that story like seeing how he takes to manual labor.
“It’s a tough market,” he replies, wiping sweat off his brow, “so whatever needed to be done. I made some friends, and they’d call me whenever they needed something.”
Guys in an industry like that call someone they know is reliable, something he’s demonstrated the past couple of days.
“Simon told me about your sister. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He eyes me uneasily. Is it because it’s all a lie Simon fabricated? If that’s the case, did Jonas and some little girl pose for those photos? No, that’s too much, even for Simon.
“She’s doing okay right now, but she has more treatments to get through. There’s a place my aunt and I wanted to send her in New York. The best place for her to get care, but insurance denied covering the facility, so if I can get some cash, I might be able to get her in.”
That sounds heartfelt, and it makes me hate myself for thinking this guy would try to con me with something like that.
“American healthcare system is fucked,” I say.
He pulls up some more earth before glancing at me, and I lose track of place and time, as though I’m sucked into the past, gazing into Kieran’s eyes.
“Funny thing for a rich guy to say.”
That snaps me back to the present. “I’m not rich,” I explain. “Simon got all the money, and I just get to stay on the property, which is fine by me, but the moment I step foot off our property, I’m probably worse off than you.”
“Well, maybe not me.” There’s a trace of humor in his tone, but I detect the seriousness too.
“Sorry, that was insensitive. I only meant—”