Crankshaft (Big Bull Mechanics Book 1) by K.M. Neuhold

Author:K.M. Neuhold [Neuhold, K.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-02T16:00:00+00:00

STEELE

The chair scrapes noisily against the floor as Porter pulls it out and sits at the table. Normally, it’s cluttered with tools, random car parts, things I’ve taken away from Denali, and laundry that needs to be folded or washed. Usually, a sniff test sorts out which it is. But I’ve been up for hours already and managed to tidy up enough to present Porter with the illusion that I’m civilized and somewhat tidy.

Denali plops down in front of him and puts her head in his lap, looking up with big puppy eyes to ask for some love. He scratches her ears and talks to her in that goofy high-pitched voice we all use to tell dogs how good and cute they are. My attention lingers a few more seconds on how fucking sexy he looks in my shirt…and how much better he would look spread out on the table, letting me strip it off him.

My cock swells and I clear my throat, forcing myself to shake off the fantasy, at least for a little while. Breakfast first, then I plan on getting very dirty in the shower with him.

I get to work on the eggs and toast, thinking back over the dozens of men who’ve sat at that table while I’ve cooked them breakfast over the years. Some of them were boyfriends. Others were one-night stands whose names I didn’t bother to remember by the time the sun was up. Something feels different with Porter.

I listen to him hold a conversation with Denali about how big her ears are and how fluffy she is while I slowly push the eggs around the pan so they don’t burn. There’s the obvious reason why this feels different. We’ve fooled around once, but we certainly haven’t scratched the itch we’ve both been flirting with. There’s still all of the unresolved heat between us. But it’s more than that.

When my last boyfriend was sitting in that exact seat a couple of months ago, ignoring Denali, there was this anxious itch under my skin. I kept checking the clock, wondering how late I’d have to let him stay to avoid being rude. I was thinking about all the shit I had to do on my one day off and that having him hang around was just making things harder. I was also running down a mental list of all the things about him that had been driving me crazy and the dozens of reasons things wouldn’t work with us long term. By the time the eggs were on his plate, I knew it was over. When we ate lunch together the next day, and he took the pickle off my plate, it was just one irritation too many.

I scoop the eggs onto two plates, and while I butter the toast, I try to make a list of things that I don’t like about Porter.

He’s…hmm….

There has to be something. He’s fallen asleep on me twice and didn’t call me for weeks after I gave him my number.

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