Page 3 of Scorched

Chapter Two

Myles

Five years of this, and I still couldn’t hire reliable employees.

I kept telling myself I’d get better at interviewing, weeding out the shitty college kids from the ones that actually had some drive.

I’d really thought Matt was a good one.

I needed the help. I could only handle so many pools on my own, and tried to reserve myself for the highest-dollar clients. I liked giving the extra attention to people who would pay more for our services.

But today I was pulling double duty, since Matt was sick.

He hadn’t sounded sick on the phone, he’d sounded drunk.

His Instagram stories had confirmed it.

I’d fired him earlier in the afternoon, and now I was dealing with his workload as well as mine.

At least this was the last house on my schedule.

I pulled up and parked next to a beat-up Camry. I didn’t recognize it, and the plates were from out of state.

The Porsche beside it, though, had local plates. And it was gorgeous—only a year old, and a stunning blue with leather interior. And a hard-top convertible, too. I’d have killed to take that car for a spin.

With my supplies in hand, I walked around the back, using the key the owner had given me to let myself in. I knew where the pool was. I’d worked on this one myself sometimes.

I walked around the back and stopped in my tracks.

I’d never seen the woman lying in the deck chair before, but she was stunning. Thick and curvy, with the beginnings of a golden tan and dark brown hair.

She wore the bottoms of a mint green polka-dot bikini, but no top.

And god, her tits were perfect. Full and round, still perky in spite of their size. Her nipples were hard from the cool ocean breeze.

I cleared my throat. “Um, ma’am?”

She had headphones in. No response.

Well…shit.

But I couldn’t stop grinning.

Just looking at her had me half-hard in my trunks.

I put my supplies down, dropping the bucket from higher up than I normally would.

I glanced over my shoulder.

The woman was bobbing her head a little to whatever music she had playing.

The bucket dropping had been loud. She must’ve had her music up high.

I had to do something.

As much as I wanted to just stand there and look at her gorgeous body, I didn’t feel right sneaking around.

I moved to stand at the end of her lounge chair, blocking out the sun. “Ma’am!” I raised my voice, looking away from her. Her tits were too distracting; if I let myself look at her, I’d end up looking there.

---