be free to give you a ride.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way.
“Connor,” I called out, making him snap his head to me. “Let’s go.”
He held up a finger. “One sec, partner, I’m conducting some business. Speaking of businesses, I have more than just Cuber going on. I am a partner at Kilter and Roe Plumbing and—”
“You’re not a partner, you’re an employee, and currently even that is hanging by a thread.”
Connor laughed me off and waved a dismissive hand my way. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just a grumpy old man before one in the afternoon. Takes him a while to wake up and be a decent human like the rest of us,” he joked.
Trespasser smiled and chuckled a bit, looking my way. “I could see that being true,” she said.
I grimaced, unimpressed by where this conversation was leading. “Connor, truck. Now.”
“All right, partner—”
“Again, not my partner.”
He rolled his eyes. “Some people and their resistance to titles, am I right?” he said, grinning, and Trespasser laughed once more. Screw her laugh for being beautiful. “But, anyway, let me get going before Grumpy McGrump pops a blood vessel. Remember, if you need a ride, you got Connor on your side. Also if you have any plumbing issues, don’t be afraid to hit me up at the second number on this card.” He handed her another business card then winked. “I’ll be more than happy to snake your pipes.”
Oh good Lord. The innuendos coming out of these kid’s mouth were painful.
“Connor, get your ass in the truck,” I barked.
“Grumpy McGrump indeed.” Trespasser smirked, which annoyed me even more because her smirk was kind of beautiful, too. I walked back to the truck and hopped into the driver’s seat.
A few moments later, Connor joined me, buckled his seat belt, and then rubbed his hands together. “Couldn’t miss the opportunity to get new clients. You understand, boss.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, so now I’m your boss?”
“Listen, Jax, you gotta understand—women respect men who have their own businesses. It makes me look more professional when I say I’m your partner.”
“Or it makes you look like a liar.”
“Potato, potahto.”
“Let me see this business card you’ve been handing out for us.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.
I glanced at it and shook my head instantly. “Kilter and Roe Plumbing: Same Shit, Different Toilet. That’s your tagline?” I groaned.
“It was either that or We Pump Your Dump,” he explained. “I feel like the one I chose rolls off the tongue better. Now, since I scored some new clientele and assisted with the removal of anal beads, I think it’s a perfect time to stop by the café to grab lunch before our next job,” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
“We just ate breakfast before stopping at the Jeffersons’.”
“Yeah, like two hours ago. I know you’re old and probably already hit your prime and all you have to look forward to in the future is anal beads, but I am a growing boy, Jax! I need all the carbohydrates I can take in.”
I turned the key in the ignition. “We’ll eat lunch during our break at the office. I already packed food for us.”
Connor grimaced in disgust. “Please don’t make me eat another peanut butter and jelly sandwich and your disgusting protein shake. I’m so sick of that.”
“It’s packed with protein, and it will help you build muscle.”
“You know what else would help me? A number nine from McDonald’s.”
I smirked. “You can spend your paycheck on that stuff during your own time, but when working with me, you get the sandwich and a protein shake.”
“With grass in it.”
“It’s not grass. It’s kale.”
“I don’t mean to take away your man card, Jax, but adding kale to your protein shakes makes you look a lot like those chicks who wear Ugg boots and are addicted to Starbucks and Target.”
“Are you calling me a basic bitch?”
He parted his lips to reply but paused, arching an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me to watch my language if I call you a basic bitch?”
“Yes.”
“Well then stop being a basic bitch and eating kale. Next thing I know, you’ll be Instagramming avocado toast while drinking kombucha.”
“What’s kombucha?”
“Oh, thank God.” Connor sighed and wiped his hand across his forehead. “You still have your balls.”
“Don’t say balls,” I ordered, pointing a stern finger his way. “And don’t say basic bitch.”
He sat back in his seat and placed his hands behind his head, propping his shoes up on my dashboard before I quickly