Page 42 of Hammered (Dad Bod Contracting 1)
I laugh. “It’s all part of the story. His name is Jesse, and he’s a contractor.” I take my plate from Audra and we move to my couch, setting our glasses of wine on the floor at our feet. “Remember when I broke my kitchen window and had to have it repaired?”
Audra nods as she takes a bite of food.
“I saw this ad for a company that claimed to be willing to do any project small or large, and look good doing it, so I called them. Dad Bod Contracting. The owner sends his guy out, and he shows up at, like, nine at night.”
Audra blinks in surprise. “That’s nuts. No contractor ever shows up before noon or after five.”
I nod. “I know. But this guy did.” I make eye contact so she knows how serious I am with my next words. “He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met, Audra. I can’t even explain it. He’s big and muscular, but not a bodybuilder, or the vain gym rat type. Rugged, but still handsome. Funny, and nice…and way too generous for his own good.” I sigh.
“The company he works for, which is owned by his best friend and brother-in-law, is building a house for my new boss, which is how I got my new job in the first place.” I pause for a sip of wine. “And the wife, my boss, Dr. Waverley, she decided after she’d bought and paid for a whole bunch of windows that she didn’t want them, and ordered something else entirely, so the windows were just…free. So Jesse came and boarded up my window, and then came by the next day with one of those extra windows and installed it. And then, a few days later, he calls me and asks if he can have access to my house, because he has a surprise. I tell him where my spare key is, and when I get home, he and his buddies have replaced literally all my windows, as well as adding a new one over my stairs. All for twelve hundred dollars. Fifteen hundred, including the original kitchen window replacement. And then—and then when I tell him I quit my job, he makes a call to Dr. Waverley, for whom he’s building a house, gets me an interview, I get the job, and then—”
“There’s more?”
I laugh, nodding. “That’s not even the half of it, Audra! He ghosted on me, but it was an accident and misunderstanding, so he came over to talk, and his foot went through the front step, and—”
“Those stairs were a hazard, so I’m not surprised,” Audra puts in.
“I know, now quit interrupting, dammit. So he just went out and bought a bunch of wood and nails, tore down my old porch and built this new one, all while waiting for me to get home from work. Just because.”
“I feel like I’m missing a lot of details, here.” Audra takes both our plates and dishes up more food for us, and brings the bottle of wine to top off our glasses. “You need to go back and go over a few things.”
“No, Audra, you don’t understand.” I lean close to her, eyes wide. “He kisses like a god. He kisses like…like kissing was invented just for him.”
Audra’s eyes bug out. “You kissed him?” she asks, incredulous, around a mouthful of food.
“It was…he kissed me, and then it was us kissing each other.” Even now, my lips tingle in memory.
“But you didn’t fuck him yet, right?” She washes her food down with a huge swallow of red wine. “I mean, that would be so far out of character I don’t think I’d believe you even if you said yes.”
“Do you have to be so crude about it?” I ask, crankily—this is an old argument between us. “And no, we haven’t slept together.
“Yet.”
I take time to eat a few bites before answering. “I…that’s the issue, Audra. I don’t know if I could. Or should.”
She stares at me, chopsticks halfway to her mouth. “Um. You’re kidding, yes?”
I frown. “Do I sound like I’m kidding? I drank almost an entire bottle of wine in less than an hour, waiting for you. When was the last time I drank that much that fast? College, I bet.”
“No, there was the time when you first suspected Douche-Canoe was cheating on you. You called me on a Tuesday and told me to bring hard liquor.”
I frown even harder. “True. I don’t really remember that night very well, though.”
Audra cackles. “Well, no shit you don’t remember! You had like ten shots and four beers—and you don’t ever drink anything but wine or margaritas. You were hammered. Like, whoa hammered. As in, more wasted than I think we ever even got in college.”
I wave a hand. “The point is, Audra, I don’t know what to do.”
