Her Dirty Builders (Men at Work #10) - Mika Lane Page 0,7

door. I kept my gaze down so I wasn’t reminded of what a shithole the place was.

I was late. I was always late.

And there he was, Cason McKinney, one of the populars from high school who had fooled me for five minutes that he was interested in me.

Back in high school.

But still.

He extended his hand. “You must be Esme. I’m Case McKinney.”

If it were possible, he was more dazzling than he’d been as a teenager. Damn him.

The more mature version of my one-sided interest had a couple lines in the corners of his eyes, his jawline was more defined, and his hair was tidy—an eternity away from the mop he wore in high school.

Which made me kind of sad because I loved that mop.

I returned his handshake. “Hi… Case.”

I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of reminding him we’d once made out under the bleachers.

He looked around the front porch, which was badly in need of a paint job, and probably several other things. “Well, I can see right here, we have some dry rot on the porch. Probably termite issues too. Can we take a look inside?”

Shit. He’d just caught me staring.

“Oh, um, yeah,” I said, fumbling with the key.

I’d refused to call McKinney Construction, so Dad had done it. I couldn’t blame him. He’d put up my share of the down payment, and when I thought about it, had more right to the house than I did. But, unfortunately, my name was on the note. Along with the ex-fiancé’s.

I was on the hook, big-time.

As it was, Eddie was paying the mortgage because there was no way I could afford it. But he’d also made it clear he’d do it for a couple of months and no longer. As if he were doing me a big fucking favor.

Thanks, buddy.

Case slipped a notebook out of his back pocket and started scribbling, examining every room from top to bottom while I tagged behind, praying he’d have at least one positive thing to say about the place.

“Would you like something to drink, Case?” I asked.

He shook his head without looking at me. “No. No thanks,” he muttered, and got back to his list-making.

It was a good thing he didn’t want anything. I had nothing to offer, anyway.

“Hey, I heard you were voted Most Eligible Bachelor or something like that.”

This got his attention.

“Yeah. It’s true,” he grumbled.

As he wandered, I followed. My skin crawled from the awkwardness of the silence.

My only solution was to fill the void.

“That must be nice. You know, to be considered a good catch. Or whatever it means.”

He turned to face me. “It’s really not. To be honest, it’s embarrassing as hell. And now my mother’s all over my ass now about finally meeting a nice girl.”

Well. He was confiding in me.

I was breaking the ice.

“Wouldn’t you like that though? I mean, doesn’t every man want to meet a nice girl?”

Unless you’re like my ex-fiancé, Eddie.

“I don’t have time. I’m running my father’s business and trying to finish my college degree. As it is, I can only take one class at a time.”

Oh. Shit.

He looked over the list in his hand. “Is there some place where we could sit?”

I looked around the mostly-empty house. “Sure. There’s a table and chairs in here.”

I led him to the kitchen, pointing out a hole in the floorboards he needed to step over.

It was only a small hole.

“Okay. Esme. I probably don’t have to tell you this house needs a lot of work.”

Thanks dude, I’m not blind.

I nodded politely, keeping my snark to myself.

“The thing is, fixing this place up will probably be more than the cost of buying it.”

He gave me one of those what the fuck were you thinking? looks. I knew it well.

“I… I’m on a pretty tight budget. Do you think we could do some cosmetic things, just enough to sell it and not lose money?”

He sighed and looked back over his list. “I suppose. What’s your budget?”

“I… I don’t have a budget.”

His eyebrows shot up.

Yeah, I knew that sounded bad. But it was the truth.

He closed his notebook and stood. “I’m not sure I can help you Esme. I’m really sorry.”

And that’s when I could no longer hold in the tears. At first, they dribbled down my cheeks like big, fat raindrops, and then my face started to crumple and distort, making me even more pitiful.

His eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

But it was too late. There was no coming back from my