Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 Landish, Lauren (top 10 most read books in the world txt) 📖

time to change and wipe down a little before she pulls up, looking cute but also ready to work in a hip-hugging set of jeans shorts, hiking boots, and to top it off, a tied-off t-shirt that reads Hello, my name is HOTTIE.

“Got dinner for you!” Cassie greets me chirpily as she bounces over, my eyes glued to her tanned legs. Oh, I so need to get her. “Check it out!”

She holds up a plain brown box, setting it on the hood of my truck. “So what’s in the box?” I ask, and Cassie grins evilly, knowing what I’m talking about.

“What’s in the box? What’s in the baaaaaahx?” Cassie imitates, her voice nothing at all like Brad Pitt’s but still effective, and I have to smile. She laughs before opening up the box. Chinese food.

“I say we check out the house first, and we can talk moo goo gai pan later,” I reply, heading to the back door and opening up. “That is, if you can handle the bad news?”

“You’d be surprised what I can handle,” Cassie says, sashaying past me and running her fingernails over my shirt. “Nice shirt. Female Body Inspector? I mean, really?”

Maybe I planned it, but I won’t tell. “It’s an old clean work shirt. All right, simmer down a notch. I can inspect you another time. I’ve got shit to show you, and it ain’t my dick.” We lock eyes, and there’s a new tension, making me think maybe she does want me to whip it out. But then I see her eyes twinkle, and the moment passes, both of us breaking out in laughter.

Cassie rolls her eyes. “You won that round, but you’ve still got a lot of catching up to do. What do you need to show me?” she says, looking around the house, ready to get down to business.

“Might as well start in here,” I say, leading her into the living room. “I started pulling up the carpet the other night—wanted to get a better idea on how bad the walnut floor was underneath—and while most of it’s good . . .”

I show her the section that shares a wall with the downstairs bathroom, where water damage rings and warping are clearly evident. “This whole section will need to be replaced, which brings us to another problem.”

“What?” Cassie says, squatting down. “The wood seems strong at least.”

“Right up until the next rainstorm. That water is most likely from the bathroom pipes, which means I’ll need to totally redo the bathroom—walls, floors, all of it. It’ll take some work getting everything to look right if we’re sticking with hardwoods.”

“You can handle it, right?” Cassie asks, turning around. She looks up at me with her big hazel eyes, biting her lip. “I do love the idea of the hardwood floors.”

I swallow back my first thoughts about what her eyes are making me think of and nod. “Yes, but the stain would have to be carefully selected to make sure it blends the old and the new wood. We’ll have to sand the whole floor anyway, but that means a lot of time on your hands and knees with a sandpaper block to get the edges.”

“Time on my hands and knees, huh?” Cassie asks, reassured, her sauciness coming back. “I bet you’d like that.”

“Yeah, well, it gets worse,” I say, ignoring her comment even as my cock doesn’t. “The kitchen needs to be gutted— floors, cabinets, counters, the works. But first, I need to show you something back here in the bedroom.”

I head for the stairs, intentionally skipping the second, which creaks, and I’m going to have to replace it. I can’t stand creaky steps. They remind me of haunted houses or something.

Cassie chuckles. “Is that how you get all the ladies to your bedroom?”

I look back over my shoulder, where I swear Cassie’s looking at my ass. It makes me smirk. “No, I’m more caveman than that. I just grunt. Woman. Bed. Now.” I growl, intentionally lowering my voice more. “And they tend to run that way.”

“Hmm. I can see how that might work on some women. Especially the ones you gravitate toward. That’s probably all they can understand. Complete sentences are just a little beyond their capabilities, aren’t they?” She’s joking, a little, but if I’m honest, I’m not usually looking for a brilliant conversationalist in the women I see.

We walk into the bedroom, and Cassie stares at the ladder extending up into the ceiling. “Uh, I don’t think that was there before. Why is there a new hole in my ceiling?”

“Joke about your holes later, but if you look, there’s a water spot on the ceiling. Yeah, a wet hole,” I reply with a wink. “I uh . . . probed it to see how wet it was, and the ceiling panel just crumbled away. Climb up and see for yourself. The joists are water damaged too.”

I gesture at the ladder, and Cassie carefully climbs up as I hold it steady. It’s hard, but the ladder literally puts her ass right in my face, and my mind floods with images of me bringing my head forward, grabbing her hips, and seeing what my tongue can find. Still, I keep my composure as her head disappears into the hole. Knowing my voice is probably already husky with desire, I clear my throat before telling her, “Look to the right. The cross beam is there.”

“Can’t see much. It’s pretty dark,” she complains.

“Here,” I reply, passing up my little penlight I keep on my keychain. She shines it around, and I hear her curse under her breath.

“Is it the roof?” Cassie asks, her voice still muffled. “I don’t see any water there.”

“No, the roof’s good. I got up there and checked that,” I tell her. “I’m guessing they fixed it but didn’t check here.”

Her ass has been wiggling back and forth in front of my face as she tries to see the various areas of damage. I can’t help it. The hypnotic sway has me