Ignition: A Steamy Small Town Romance by Helene Laval

Author:Helene Laval [Laval, Helene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-23T18:30:00+00:00

23

Michael

I figured I’d head over to Singer’s and see what Jesse and Steve were up to, and if there was anything for me to work on. I just made it across the bridge past Main St. when my phone rang. It was Shawn. I hoped there wasn’t anything else wrong at Betsy’s house. She had enough to deal with.

“What’s up?”

“Michael, glad you picked up. I tried calling Ms. Reed, but she wasn’t available. I’m having an issue here with a guy who says this is his job. He’s harassing my crew, man.”

“Tall, thin?”

“That’s the guy.”

Shit. Glenn. I wish I never called that fucker.

“On my way.” I hung up and U-turned in the middle of the road.

I could hear yelling and commotion coming from the house before I got out of the truck. Stomping up to the entrance, I found Shawn and Glenn head-to-head in Betsy’s living room. Half of the ceiling had been removed and Shawn was wearing a face mask to protect him from the potential spore spread from the demolition.

I took one look at the demolition, saw the extent of the black mold in the torn apart drywall, and yelled, “Outside.”

Both men swung their heads my way. Glenn red faced and heaving, shouldered past Shawn and followed me out the door. Once out onto the porch, I stepped in toward Glenn.

“Why are you here? Ms. Reed didn’t want to hire you.”

“You hired me, it’s my job.”

“I hired you to check it out, give it a once over and share what you found. I paid the emergency call, and the consult fee. She didn’t want to hire you for the repairs. It’s her house.”

“I’m the one who got my crew here at five a.m. and placed the jack posts, saving this house. She asked me for a written estimate. I never even got the chance to give it to her. How do you know what she wants?”

“She told me.” Because you’re a total misogynist asshole, I thought.

“What does that bitch know about house construction? I’m a licensed architect! This hack doesn’t know what he’s doing.” He pointed an accusing finger at Shawn who was shaking his head, hands on hips.

I grabbed Glenn by the front of his shirt. He might be tall and lanky, but I was taller, and definitely not lanky. Twisting a wad of shirt so he was forced to his toes, I looked down into his face and growled, “Never call her a bitch again.”

“Or what?” Glenn ground out through clenched teeth.

Fuck, this guy had balls. “Fuck around and find out.” I twisted the fistful of shirt tighter and leaned in so close I could smell the reek of liquor and the sour stench of stale beer.

Glenn’s rapidly reddening face nodded.

“You’re drunk. Go home.” I let him go, and he doubled over, hands on thighs to catch his breath. Still hunched over he pointed toward the house. “Those are my jacks.”

“Send me a bill,” I said, staring down at him.

Glenn stood up and walked to his truck.

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