Lover Boy (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 1)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  There he is.

  His shoulders are as wide as ever. I can’t help but admire his powerful body as I approach him from behind. He glances up at me over his back and grins.

  “Hey.” I lower myself to the spot beside him and run my hand across his back.

  “Hey.” He stretches his hand out to me, offering me a sip from his juice box. Long gone are the days of drinking whiskey from a red plastic cup. Apple-grape fruit punch is his drink of choice these days.

  I giggle, leaning in to suck on the plastic straw.

  Lust and adoration fill his eyes as he watches me drink. “What are you doing out here?” I ask softly as I run my hand tenderly over his knee. “Nightmares?” It’s fall now. It’s cold. I wish he wouldn’t sit out here.

  He looks up at the sky and smiles on a deep exhale. “Not nightmares. Good dreams. Happy ones.”

  Pleasantly surprised by his answer, my lips inch up, too. “About what?” I lean my head on his shoulder and his arm comes around me.

  “About us. About our family and what’s next for us.”

  “Really?”

  He nods and kisses my forehead. “Really.”

  My heart does all kinds of twists and flips in my chest. I’m so in love with Leo and Brent and the life we have together and the thought of what the future holds tickles the pit of my stomach.

  I look down at his hand and realize that he’s flipping something around between his fingers. Before I can make out what it is, Leo angles himself toward me and pushes me back softly by the shoulders. “Is it crazy that I want to marry you, Reese? I mean, I really want to marry you. Now.”

  My breath gets caught in my throat and my pulse goes erratic. We’ve talked about marriage and babies. Only in vague terms. This is the first time he’s mentioned it in a direct way. That look of determination in his eyes is nerve-wracking. My heart feels like it’ll pound right out of my chest.

  He sinks to the bottom step, stooping on one knee. The diamond on the thin band between his fingers catches the moonlight and glimmers. “I was gonna wait to ask you…Y’know, so Brent and your family could be here to witness it…But I don’t wanna wait any more. Marry me, Reese. Be my wife. Please. I don’t deserve you. But I want you. Forever.”

  “Oh my god, Leo.” Tears spill readily down my cheeks. “I want you to be my husband. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  His giddy smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. He does a corny fist pump that makes me laugh. “Yes!” He grabs my left hand and slips the ring on. It fits like it was made just for me. It’s beautiful. Perfect.

  Orgasm Man. My very own superhero. My lover. My best friend.

  I grab his fingers and lift his hand to my mouth. I press my lips to the skin grafts on his knuckles. The burns and scars he got while he was saving my life.

  “I love you, Leo. I won’t ever stop.”

  “I love you, too, Cupcake Girl. Forever isn’t nearly enough for us.”

  Epilogue

  Two years later…

  Leo

  “Can you believe it’s been two years?” Reese smiles across the counter at me with her coffee cup clenched between her hands.

  Even after another sleepless night of breastfeeding and rocking our twins, she still looks radiant in the morning light peeking through the sheer kitchen curtains.

  "The two best years of my life." I come around the counter and kiss her forehead.

  "Including last night when the twins were howling in unison like wild animals calling out to each other?" She sets her elbows on the counter and drops her head as a long yawn pours out of her mouth.

  I laugh then run my hands over her shoulders. "Even then.”

  Yes, the midnight diaper changes are tolerable—pleasant even—because I do them with my best friend by my side. We're solid. I've never felt more steady in my life. I may look like a big, tough guy on the outside but I don't stand on my own. Reese is my superhero, my Cupcake Girl. Her love saves my life every day.

  It’s funny—when my marriage to Mara ended, I though the world was crashing down but now, I don't regret the way things ended with her. It was rough on Brenton and me for a little while but as soon as I allowed Reese into our lives, she made it all better.

  And Mara got what was coming to her. Apparently, the man she left me for lied to her about his source of income. He made his fortune dealing in the black market. Word is that the both of them got picked up by the police somewhere in Central America and are awaiting trial for organ trading. It's been a rough two years for Mara and her one remaining kidney. So much for her jet-set lifestyle. I hear those Guatemalan prisons are real glamorous.

  Anyway, she’s not my problem anymore.

  The people I care most about—my wife and three kids—reside under this roof in a sleepy little Illinois town called Copper Heights.

  Reese's head snaps up at the sound of the doorbell and she casts a narrow-eyed stare my way. "It's not even 8:00 in the morning yet," she hisses as she slams down her coffee cup. She marches toward the door, her heavy footsteps conveying her fury. "I swear to god, if it's that vacuum salesman again—"

  I stand at the other end of the hall, smirking as she tears the front door open and an enormous flower bouquet fills the entrance. "Delivery for Reese Montgomery?” The delivery guy totters under the weight of the thing.

  Her head snaps in my direction. "Baby..."

  I just grin.

  She accepts the delivery and lugs it into the kitchen. "Hmm...I wonder who it's from?" I ask innocently, smiling into her coffee mug and taking a long sip.

  She’s teary-eyed when she sets it down and slaps me on the chest. "Stop joking around. You have me crying my eyes out."

  "I'm romantic, huh?" I chuckle.

  "Yes, you are." She wraps her arms around me and presses her cheek to my back.

  "You're my inspiration, babe." I spin around and hold her to me.

  "Well, I'm feeling very, very grateful...if you know what I mean." She cups my semi-hard cock. A rush of blood heads to that region.

  "I'll take you upstairs so you can show me,” I propose.

  She yelps when I pick her up and toss her over my shoulder like a cement bag. "Oh my gosh. You're just a neanderthal masquerading as a gentleman, aren't you?"

  I laugh. "Don't let the flowers and soft focus light fool you, baby. I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you."

  "You have a dirty mouth on you!”

  "Yeah, you're a lucky, lucky girl. How about we go take care of business before the babies wake up?" I slap her butt as I tromp toward the stairs.

  "Good idea." She giggles contentedly.

  "Oh, I'm full of good ideas. But falling in love with you is the best idea I've ever had."

  THE END

  Note from the author

  Hey Reader,

  Thanks so much for reading Lover Boy. I hope that you fell in love with Reese and Leo’s story :) You can read book 2 in the Blue Collar Bachelors Series right now. Play Boy is 99c until Jan. 12th, 2018. Read a preview chapter right after this note. You can also pre-order Bad Boy, book 3 in the series.

  I’m also including a bonus book for you. Dirty Neighbor is book 1 in the Dirty Suburbs series. Enjoy!

  Love,

  Cassie xoxo

  P.S.: You can find all my books here.

  Preview of

  Play Boy (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 2)

  Chapter 2

  Charlie

  Peering through the front window, I see the all-white Acura Integra bumping along the curb. I cringe at the harsh sound of metal scraping against concrete. This girl really needs to have her driver's license revoked.

  She hunches forward to peer into the side mirror then she slams her little fist on the edge of the steering wheel. I can't see her expression from here but I can just imagine it—her full lips pushed into a fretful pout, her golden brows drawn down over her emerald green eyes, a tiny crease on her forehead.

  I chuckle to myself. She’s parked in that spot a mil
lion times but the curb outside my house catches her every time.

  The door creaks open and Nova steps out of the death buggy, onto the pavement. She analyzes the damage to the fender and grimaces for a fraction of a second. Then, she shrugs nonchalantly as she slings the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

  No big deal, right? Because really—what’s another dent in that old piece of scrap metal, anyway?

  When she bends inside and crawls over the gearshift to grab a foil-covered plate from the front seat, my chest tightens. That body will be the death of me. The tapered in waist, the wide hips, that ass...

  Oh, that ass…

  But Nova Chester is much more than just the titleholder to a killer body and the breathtaking face that goes along with it. She’s smart and tough with a witty, perverse sense of humor. Plus, she’s a multi-talented creative and an all-around badass. If someone she loves gets into trouble, she’s always the first one on the scene, ready to kick ass and take names. Yup, gorgeous, funny, loyal. She’s the full package.

  The fact that I've never fucked this chick...I deserve a medal. I adjust my erection in my pants.

  Anyway, now she's moving toward my house, hips swaying like a damn hoola dancer as she stomps across the lawn. The steely determination in her expression tells me that she wants something. What that something is, I'm not sure I want to find out.

  With a grin on my lips, my feet move across the floor, taking me to the front entrance. I swing the door open right as she's about to ring.

  She jumps a little in her scuffed up sneakers then narrows her eyes plaintively. "It's making that funny noise again." She gestures in the direction of her dilapidated ride.

  "Good morning to you, too, Nova." I yawn and run my hand down my bare chest. And a part of me wishes she'd at least take a little look but her eyes stay focused on my face. "Didn't I tell you not to walk on my lawn?" I glare down at her. Or at least I try to because I just can't manage to wipe that damn goofy expression off my face.

  I love messing with her. When I know she’s getting herself all worked up about something, I love ribbing with her just to entertain myself.

  She shoves the plate of leftovers at me as she rolls her eyes and walks straight past me in her purple spandex workout gear. She's fresh out of the gym this morning. There's a sheen to her coppery skin. I catch a whiff of her. Strawberries and cocoa butter with subtle undertones of sweat.

  I enjoy running water as much as the next man but if there were ever a water crisis in this town, I’d gladly lick her clean.

  "Sheesh! You and that damn lawn,” she groans. “You’re like one of those annoying rent-a-cops at the Botanic Garden." She snickers as she hunches over to pull off her shoes on the front mat. I nearly drop the plate at the sight of that ass bent over in front of me.

  Heavenly hell!

  She looks up too fast and catches me with my eyes peeled to her curves. She stumbles back a half step. Reaching out, I steady her with my free hand. I can't tell if that shiver came from her or from me.

  Shit.

  Quick to distract her from what just happened, I turn and lead the way into the kitchen. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?" I drop onto a high stool at the granite-topped island.

  As Nova opens the cutlery drawer behind me, I take the time to adjust my erection. She spins around with two forks and hands one my way. She slides onto the stool next to me and peels back the foil covering the plate.

  "Still stealing food from work, I see." I grab a marinated olive with my fingers and pop it into my mouth.

  Biting back a smile, she flips me off and then shovels a forkful of salami into her face. "So, are you gonna fix my car or what?" In a rudimentary show of civility, she hides her stuffed mouth behind her hand as she speaks.

  Such a lady!

  "I'm not a mechanic, Nova." I extend my arms above my head and stretch. Her eyes still don't peek at my muscles.

  Why the hell does it bother me so much that this chick doesn't want me?

  I've got women pursuing me every single day. Calling me, texting me, begging me for a little bit of attention. They find my charm irresistible. My smile melts the lace-trimmed satin right off of their behinds. One smoldering glance and they’re down on their knees, ready to follow my instructions.

  But Nova? She treats me like a comfy armchair. Yes, she’ll cuddle against me to watch a movie on a laid-back Saturday night, but I’m pretty much just a piece of furniture. Well-loved but ultimately, benign.

  We’re strictly friends and that's probably for the best since I’ve known her forever. She’s virtually a part of the family. Growing up, she was always in my sister’s room, wearing those creepy homemade facial masks, reading teen magazines full of bad dating advice and peer-pressuring Reese into dyeing her hair all ungodly colors.

  Still, it bugs me that she isn't even a little attracted to me. What can I say? My male ego is a fragile petal.

  Nova doesn’t come pounding down my door when she’s looking for a toe-curling good time. She only calls me, shows up at my house or tracks me down when she's bored or in trouble.

  And I can live with that, I guess. I have so much drama in my life, battling the ghosts of fuck friends past. It really makes me appreciate the simplicity of hanging out with Nova.

  But it certainly doesn’t mean that I can’t admire the way her tits fill out the scrap of spandex banded across her chest.

  She continues to whine. "But you know how to fix cars..."

  "I told you the last time—what I did for you was a temporary fix. You need to bring that piece of junk to the repair shop and get it checked out. You're gonna end up running yourself off the road."

  "So, you're not gonna help me?"

  "I can't."

  She sighs, looking completely out of options. Her shoulders slump and she does that pouty thing that makes my cock ache. "You're not just saying that, are you?"

  I frown. She knows me better than that. I’d help her if I could. "I honestly can't fix the car, Nova."

  “Fuck…” She mutters the word under her breath and I know exactly what it means.

  Nova’s a creative type. She excels in all things artistic. She sketches, she plays the guitar, she’s got a Nikon slung around her neck half the time. If you leave her in a dark alley with a few cans of spray paint for long enough, you’ll come back to a mural that will take your breath away.

  But she’s broke. She’s stuck at this dead-end job, a waitress at a local Italian restaurant. I know she hates it but she hangs on to it because she’s scared to let go and take a step toward her dreams. I keep telling her to just take the plunge, to quit the restaurant and give herself a few months to just go for it. She doesn’t listen. Instead, she stays in a job that keeps her broke and unhappy and suffocates her creativity.

  I lean my elbows on the counter and watch her shove a little tomato into her mouth. “Had any gigs lately?” I ask.

  She snorts a little. “Sang at this wedding last weekend. Some rich woman married her housekeeper’s husband as soon as the ink dried on the divorce papers. Let me tell you, there was dra-ma! Flying cupcakes. Barefooted toddlers running around screaming, ‘That’s my daddy!’ I got hit in the head with a flying wedge heel.”

  I reach for the last cracker on the plate as I laugh. She snatches it from my fingers and I harrumph. “Hey!” She grins and pops it victoriously into her mouth.

  Her mane of wild, golden ringlets frames her beautiful face. I reach out and grab a lock of it. I give it a soft tug. For one moment, I fall into her enchanting green irises and I can’t seem to look away.

  She swats my hand away. “Stop it, Charlie.”

  “What?” My lips dance at the corners.

  She stretches out across the counter and rests her head in the crook of her arm. “So you really can’t fix my car?” She looks up at me from under her lashes. All sweetness and innocence.

  “Can’t help ya.”

  A groan bursts out of her chest. "You're dead
to me," she mutters as she drops down her fork and pushes away from the table.

  "Just like that?"

  She nods. "Just like that." She seals the foil over the plate and swipes it off of the table.

  "Hell no, you're not taking the food." I step into her path, blocking the way.

  Her hand comes up protectively in front of her and she slaps my chest softly. Fuck fuck fuck. There's no way she didn't feel that bolt of fire.