The Fix (The Carolina Connections, #1)(16)
Oh, I knew this guy. Well, not this particular guy, but his type was unmistakable. He was the guy at every party, every gym, every concert with the cock-sure smile who stood a bit too close and made allusions to his cock size within your first conversation. He was also the guy who found any and every excuse to take his shirt off—oh, is it hot in here or is it just me? Gag.
My eyes moved on and I have no idea how the man on the right reacted to us because, as my eyes moved from cocky guy, they caught on angry-cellphone-guy in the middle of the group and chose to stay there for a nice long rest. Thank you very much, said my lady bits.
This guy was tall, he was built, he had a square jaw that could cut you, and despite the sunglasses that hid his eyes and the scowl that said, “don’t even think about talking to me,” he had my belly dropping to the ground in an instant. His almost black hair was in need of a cut and it looked like he’d been running his hand through it for a week. There was just the right amount of stubble covering his perfect jaw—enough so he looked sexy and a bit rough but not sloppy. My knees felt a little wobbly.
Paging Superman, I think I found your long lost, scruffier, sexier, and broodier twin. It was at this point I patted myself on the back for not wearing high heels because if I had, I would surely be kissing the dirt right about now.
Charlotte, seemingly right at home in the presence of hot superheroes, kept right on going without pause. “Hello there. My name is Charlotte Baker. I live just up the street.” She was already upon them and I scurried a bit to catch up. Charlotte looked back toward me. “This is another neighbor, Laney Mon—”
“Laney!” I interrupted loudly and thrust my hand out toward cocky guy. “Just Laney is fine.” I avoided Charlotte’s quizzical look. No last names needed here, guys—let’s keep it casual.
“Well, Laney,” I got the smile and nod as cocky guy shook my hand. “Charlotte.” He switched to hers, handsome smile ready to charm our panties off. “I’m Mark. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. This here is Doug.” Mark indicated the man on the right whom I hadn’t had a chance yet to assess. Doug appeared to be in his late forties with blondish hair and the beginnings of a paunch. Face unreadable, he nodded in greeting but didn’t offer his hand. “And this is Nate. He runs the show around here.” Mark turned his thumb toward the man giving me high blood pressure. Nate, face completely readable, turned his scowl on Mark, not pleased to be thrown under the bus. Unfazed, Mark continued, “What can we help you ladies with today?”
“Well,” Charlotte began, her charming smile returning his, “I’m assumin’ you’re the company puttin’ up the new property?” When that got no response she continued, “Yes, well, we have some questions we wanted to ask if that’s all right.”
Mark, still the only one of the three to speak, moved closer (See? I told you) and said, “Sure. Happy to help.” At this point I think it was safe to assume he was envisioning Charlotte naked.
“We’ve been tryin’ to find out exactly what kind of business is goin’ to be movin’ into the new property. Can you tell us that by any chance?”
“Well, Charlotte,” Mark began, “we won’t really know that until the property is completed and the spaces are rented out, but I can tell you that there will be a total of three rental spaces. There are a variety of businesses that could make use of the spaces, but until rental agreements are signed, I’m afraid I can’t be more specific than that. Wouldn’t you say, Nate?” he passed the issue off, his eyes still glued to my neighbor.
“Yes Mark, I would say,” the hottie ground out in displeasure, his voice low and a bit gravelly, perfectly matching the whole sexy, scruffy thing he had going on there. “Let’s cut to the chase, girls, what is it precisely that you’re concerned about?” His eyes moved to us, his impatience unmistakable. Somebody had a crap sandwich for breakfast this morning.
“Um,” Charlotte was beginning to hesitate, “you see, we all have kids and we don’t want to see any … unsavory types comin’ around the neighborhood. And, um, increased traffic might be an issue too …”
“I see,” Nate snapped. “So you don’t want us bringing creepy assholes around your kids, and the tenants should stay off your street. Got it. Can we get back to work now? We’ve got a crew showing up in twenty and a long list of shit to get done. You can head back to your little mommy-and-me troop.” He tilted his chin toward Darcy, Glen, and the kids. “We’ll take it from here.”
With that, he turned around and headed toward the cab of the truck. And, dammit to hell, I couldn’t help but take in the view from the back with a little bit of “bow-chicka-wow-wow” echoing in my head. Thoroughly disgusted with my girl parts for turning to the dark side, I returned my gaze to Charlotte.
Her jaw hung open and she looked like she might cry. A surge of protectiveness washed over me and (mostly) overruled my baser feelings. She was a nice person—she didn’t deserve to be yelled at by that, that big fat sexy jerk! She was friendly and cared about her kid and invited strangers like us to her house for playdates and just wanted to keep everybody safe! Sure, her son may or may not be a future serial killer, but everyone has flaws. What right did this guy have to berate her for asking a simple question? No way, you rude, arrogant, insulting, too tight t-shirt wearing dickhead—Laney Monroe has a bone to pick with you.