Rent-A Husband Read online

  I lean down and place a quick peck on the top of her head. “You took care of us most of our lives. It’s our turn to take care of you.”

  She pats my cheek with a smile. “Only if you stay for dinner. I’m making chicken tetrazzini.”

  “Deal.” I smile and get to work.

  Seven

  Camila

  “Come in,” I shout when I hear a knock on the door. I’m in the kitchen making a plate of nachos and cheese. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was when I was out with Lucas, but as soon as I stepped inside, my stomach wouldn’t stop growling.

  The oven beeps when it finishes preheating, so I shove in the tray of nachos and close the door. Amber comes in, her long blonde hair up in a messy top knot, dressed in a pair of slim-fitting joggers and a white tank top.

  “Hey, how’s it going? Are you already into the wine?”

  I chuckle. “No, but I probably should be.”

  She frowns and gives me a hug. “You don’t need an asshole like him.”

  I return her hug. “Agreed, but I’m actually not referring to Elijah.” I feel a pinprick in my heart the way I always do when I say his name, but I push the thought aside.

  Amber pulls away and frowns. “What happened?”

  I explain to her how last night went from bad to worse and that I’m now forced to undergo an entire renovation of my bathroom.

  “Shit on a stick, that sucks, Cami.”

  I shrug and pull the nachos out of the oven. “It is what it is. At least I have some money saved so I don’t have to go into debt.”

  “Always the practical one.”

  I smile at her. “You want some?” I motion toward the tray of nachos.

  “Um… what do you think?”

  I divide the nachos between two plates, and she follows me to the living room.

  “I just got back from looking at tiles and stuff. Maybe you can help me choose between my favorites. I took pictures.”

  She chuckles and takes a bite of her nachos.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because I’m trying to imagine you at the big box store, looking at a hundred options of different tiles, trying to pick one.”

  “I’m not that bad.” I shove a nacho in my mouth.

  Amber smiles indulgently. “You absolutely are. But it’s not a bad thing, it’s just who you are. You give careful thought to every option before moving forward. No biggie.” She shrugs.

  “So I’m not a risk taker. Sue me.”

  “I wouldn’t have you any other way. Besides, your ability to research all options and weigh the pros and cons is gonna come in handy.”

  I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”

  “For when you help me plan my wedding.” She holds up her left hand, where a sparkler of a diamond ring shines on her ring finger.

  “Oh my god!” I toss my plate of nachos onto the coffee table and stand.

  She does the same, keeping her hand pointed in my direction. “Henry proposed last night!”

  I clasp her hand to inspect the ring. It’s beautiful. Very Amber, with a vintage feel and beautiful scrollwork along the band.

  “How did I not notice this as soon as you came in? It’s beautiful!” I pull her in for a hug. “Congratulations!”

  She chuckles and squeezes me back. “I spun it around before I came in so only the band would show.”

  I pull back and hold her by the shoulders. “You have to tell me every single detail of his proposal.”

  We sit back down on the couch, nachos abandoned.

  “Well, we went into the city like he’d planned, and after we checked into the hotel, he took me to Altura for dinner.” That’s her favorite Italian restaurant in the city. “From there we went to see the band. We were a little overdressed because I dressed nice for the restaurant, but it was such a magical night that it didn’t bother me. The band came on and we were having fun singing along and sipping our drinks when suddenly Henry insisted we move near the stage. I put up a fuss because it was so crowded up there and I prefer to hang back and watch, but he finally convinced me. And then the next thing I knew, he was on stage talking on the mic about how much he loves me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me and dropping down on one knee to ask me if I’ll marry him.” She squeals and I do too as tears spring to my eyes.

  “How was he able to get on stage?”

  “I guess he somehow got a hold of the band and asked them if he could do it and they agreed. How cool is that?”

  “So cool. Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re getting married. I’m so happy for you.” I pull her in for another hug.

  I hate myself for the small part of me that feels melancholy in this moment. I’m happy for my friend, but the fact that my ex and now my best friend have both found their life partners and are beginning new chapters in their lives while I haven’t even had a date since my breakup hits hard.

  I push away the feelings and say, “This is so exciting. Have you told your parents yet?”

  She nods. “I called them this morning. My mom is already talking about flying out to come wedding dress shopping with me.”

  Amber moved here for college—which is where we met—and never left. Her parents are still back in Indiana.

  “Do you guys know when you want to get married? Have you talked about it yet?”

  “We’re thinking next summer. And… the reason I wanted to tell you in person and not over the phone is because I need to ask if you’d be my maid of honor.” She bites her bottom lip, looking nervous as if she can’t count on my answer.

  “Of course I will!” I squeeze her hand. “This is going to be amazing.”

  We spend the rest of the afternoon and evening talking about all her ideas for the big day, giggling over a bottle of wine. Not once do I allow my thoughts to drift back to feeling sorry for myself.

  But after she’s left and I’m getting ready for bed, sadness creeps in. Not long ago, I thought I was headed down that same path. I’d finally let my guard down enough to care for a man, and it turned out I was alone on that path.

  Even though I’m excited for Amber, it’s still hard not to wonder if I’ll ever find the same happiness as her.

  Eight

  Lucas

  I spent Sunday catching up on all the paperwork I didn’t have time to do on Saturday. To my surprise, Camila got back to me with her picks for her bathroom. After seeing her in action at the store, I would’ve put money on her overanalyzing for at least another week.

  But this is good. It means I can get everything ordered and move along on the project. And the sooner the project is completed, the sooner I’ll get paid and have the money for my grandparents’ cruise.

  I pull into the driveway of the small house we converted into RENT-A HUSBAND’s headquarters a couple of years back. It’s on a main road like most of the older homes on the street, but it’s been converted from a personal residence into a business. We store tools and supplies in the detached double garage at the back of the lot, and what was once the backyard has been paved over, allowing us to leave our work vehicles here when we’re not working.

  My brothers and I always meet here at the start of our day to go over our schedules. Lately we’ve been getting more calls than we can handle and we’ve had to put customers off for weeks, which isn’t good for business. I plan to talk to my brothers about that today.

  I’m surprised to find Travis’s car is already here, since I’m normally the first to show. Although it’s no surprise that Josh hasn’t arrived. He always races in at the last minute, never technically late but with only seconds to spare. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose because he knows it annoys me, but I have no grounds to get on his ass about it because he’s not technically late.

  I walk in through the back door of the house and hear Travis in his office. We each have our own office, since it was a three-bedroom bungalow, but all we really do here is sort out our calls for the day. Well, except me. I sometimes organize the finances
in mine and do other odd business stuff.

  I poke my head in Travis’s office. “Hey, man. How was the rest of your weekend?”

  I haven’t spoken to him since I left the bar on Friday, and I assume he’s been holed up in his workshop all weekend.

  He looks up from sorting some papers on his desk—probably figuring out which call to go on first. “Hey. Uneventful. Spent most of it in the shop. Went by Gram and Gramps’s yesterday though. They said you were there on Saturday.”

  “Yeah, it was lucky I did. I intervened before Gramps climbed up a ladder again and tried to fix the eavestrough.” I shake my head.

  Travis leans far back in his chair. “When will they learn to just pick up the phone and call one of us?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” I step inside and shove my hands in my pocket.

  “How’d that call go Friday night?”

  “Good. Actually, I managed to snag a side job out of it. I’m renovating her main bath.”

  He nods. “Nice.”

  “What’d you guys get up to after I left?”

  His lips press together for a second. “After we finished your delicious wings…” I roll my eyes. “We finished watching the game, then Brady came and met up with Josh and they went out on the prowl.”

  “You didn’t join them?”

  “Of course he didn’t.” I turn around as Josh walks into Travis’s office. “He’s the grump, remember?”

  I pull my phone from my pocket and watch the time shift to seven thirty. When I glance at my youngest brother, he’s wearing a shit-eating grin. See? I knew he does it on purpose.

  “Too bad too, bro. We went over to Excuses and met a set of twins.” Josh waggles his eyebrows, to which Travis and I shake our heads.

  Sometimes I wish I could have Josh’s carefree attitude. Not much fazes him, and even though he doesn’t seem to take much seriously, I can actually rely on him when the chips are down. But I’ve never been able to not worry about how the future will unfold—something that became even more difficult after one night when I was twenty-one. What happened that night made it clear that the decisions I make matter and have their own consequences.

  “When are you gonna learn there’s more to life than pussy?” Travis says.

  “Don’t be jealous, man. I know there’s more to life, but pussy just makes life sweeter.” Josh grins.

  “All right, you two, can we maybe put the pussy conversation aside at least until I’ve had my coffee?”

  “Happy to,” Travis says.

  “We’re still backed up, so we have to order the calls by priority.” I sit in the single chair across from Travis’s desk.

  “We got more calls over the weekend too.” Josh sets a stack of papers down in front of him on the desk.

  I forwarded calls to him this weekend as his penance for eating my wings.

  “Shit, it’ll take weeks for us to get back on schedule.” I push my hand through my hair.

  Travis frowns as he looks at the stack of calls. “I think it’s time we bring someone else on board.”

  “Agreed. I’ve run the numbers and we can easily cover their salary with the amount of calls we’re getting. Plus, it’ll only improve our customer satisfaction when we can get out there right away, and that’ll most likely increase referrals.”

  “I’ve got the perfect person,” Josh says. Travis and I look at him skeptically. “What? Brady just got laid off. He’d be perfect.”

  I’m silent as I think it over. Brady is qualified. He worked as a property manager for a large company for years. But whenever Josh and Brady are together, trouble arises. I’m struggling to picture the two of them working together and actually getting work done.

  “Why’d he lose his job?” Travis asks.

  “Guy who owns the company needed to find a spot to put his new girlfriend’s son and Brady got the shit end of the stick.”

  “That sucks,” I say, leaning back into the chair with my arms crossed. “Would Brady even want the job?”

  Josh shrugs. “Can’t say for sure, but I can talk to him.”

  “And could the two of you manage to work together?” Travis asks.

  “I was going to ask the same thing,” I say.

  “Jesus, guys. I’m not some deadbeat who doesn’t pull his weight. I do what I’m supposed to around here.”

  “Yeah, but we know what you’re like when you and Brady are together.” I raise my eyebrows. “Do I even have to bring up examples from the past?”

  Travis eyes Josh as well. “The streaking during the baseball game? The pranks and bets the two of you think are so funny but land you both in jail?”

  “Whatever. Do you want me to talk to him or not?” Josh crosses his arms, looking somewhat pissed.

  I nod. “Sure. If he’s interested, tell him to call me and we’ll talk numbers.”

  “Fine. I’m gonna go sort out my calls for the day.”

  Once Josh has left the room, Travis leans in and whispers, “He’s pissed.”

  “Wish I had time to care.” I’m too busy to soothe my brother’s wounded ego. Once he figures out actions matter, the better off he’ll be.

  I stand to go figure out my own day and to call for the dumpster to be dropped off at Camila’s place.

  Nine

  Lucas

  I show up at Camila’s house after dinner on Wednesday. I managed to order most of the materials I’ll need on Monday, and on Tuesday, I worked late to catch up on calls. I met Brady for a beer to discuss him working for RENT-A HUSBAND last night, and we decided to bring him on board with the caveat that if it’s not working out or is affecting the friendship, we’ll part ways.

  I take a sip of my water as I approach Camila’s house, then I catch sight of her cutting her lawn. Water spews out of my mouth all over my steering wheel.

  What the hell is she wearing?

  Don’t get me wrong, she looks good. Too good.

  Camila’s in a pair of cut-off jean shorts that have clearly been around a while because the ends are so frayed, her ass cheeks are practically hanging out. Add on the red tube top she’s sporting with no bra, and I don’t know if it’s because the color reminds me of when I saw her in the red bikini or if it’s the fact that I see a perfect outline of her tits, but my dick is in full chub mode when I park along the curb.

  I cut the engine of the truck and hop out. She turns off the lawn mower and walks over to me, rubbing sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. Her olive skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat that I wish I didn’t notice. I widen my stance to hide the evidence of my burgeoning arousal.

  “Hey, I’m just cutting the grass,” she says.

  “I see.” I give her a look from head to toe. “Do you always mow the lawn like that?”

  She looks down at herself, hands out in front of her. “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re giving your neighbors quite a show.” I chuckle when she crinkles her forehead.

  “What do you mean?”

  I think she really might not be catching my drift. “This outfit is made of scraps at best.” I motion with my hand down her body.

  “Are you shaming me?” She cocks a hip and crosses her arms.

  “Not at all. I just know that if I lived in viewing distance of your house, I’d make an excuse to be outside every damn time your lawn mower fired up.” Her attention darts across the street and I follow her vision. “What?”

  An elderly gentleman with a can of pop in his hand sits in a chair on his front porch. He smiles and raises his hand in hello when he notices us looking over.

  I laugh, and she smacks me across the shoulder. “Oh my god. I’m right, aren’t I? He’s out here every time you cut your lawn?”

  “Now I just feel gross.” A full-body shiver racks her and she wiggles on the spot, which only makes her boobs move right along with her.

  I shift my stance once again. “Listen, you’re a beautiful woman. I don’t think it would take much to get a guy that age riled up. I
wasn’t trying to insult you, it was only an observation.”

  She stills and stares at me.

  “What?” My forehead creases.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” she asks in a quiet tone.

  Shit. “Of course, anyone can see that.” I keep my voice light to play it off as though it’s no big deal that I let my inner thoughts slip. “Well, I’m gonna go in and start ripping the bathroom apart. I’m hoping to get that done tonight.”

  “Right, well, I’m going to come in and put on a T-shirt and a pair of leggings.”

  I laugh, following her toward the front door. “Oh, come on now. You’re going to ruin the highlight of your neighbor’s day.”

  She glares over her shoulder and I can’t help but laugh. “It’s just hard work and I always sweat and I hate the feeling of fabric sticking to my skin. It’s the same reason I only wear a sports bra and shorts when I run.”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  She rolls her eyes and opens the door for me to go in.

  I’m still laughing when I reach the bathroom. She’s so hot, she could wear whatever she wants and get away with it. But I have to remember she’s not mine either, so maybe I should have kept my opinions about her showing off her body to myself. I just don’t like the idea of other men beating off to images of her in the red tube top.

  Camila is seated at her breakfast bar, typing away on her laptop, when I’m finished for the night. She’s showered and dressed and giving off that smart girl vibe along with her good looks.

  “Sorry, are you in the middle of working? I just wanted to update you where we’re at with the bathroom.”

  She glances up from her screen and closes the laptop lid. “No, I was just finishing. What’s up?”

  “I ripped out everything.”

  I nod and we look at each other for a minute.

  She hops down off the stool. “Do you want a beer?”

  I glance at the time on her stove. It’s getting late and I have an early morning, but I’d be lying to myself if I pretended that I don’t want to stay. “Sure, maybe a quick one.”