Laid: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

By: Brill Harper

Blue Collar Bad Boys, Volume 5



About this Book





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Laid

Conner

I’m in over my head with these kids, but I’m all the family they have left after my sister and her husband were killed. I’m a bricklayer, what do I know about twin baby girls? Nothing. Thank God for the sweet girl-next-door.

But she’s a blessing and a curse.

I’ve practically moved the poor girl in to help me care for these babies, but playing house is stirring up all kinds of feelings that should never see the light of day. I know she’s got a crush on me, but what I want to do to her body would crush her innocence forever.

She’s too sweet, too innocent, and way too young for a perv like me.

Cassidy

Mr. Webster is trying so hard to do the right thing and take care of everyone. But who takes care of him? I know under normal circumstances I would hardly even register on his radar, but lately, when he looks at me, I feel like there’s more between us than there should be. Maybe more than he wants.

He works so hard. Provides for his nieces. Makes sure I’m a happy babysitter. But he’s so tense. So unhappy.

I want to give him something.

Something he wants. Something he needs. Something no man has ever had before.

Me.

Author's Confession: Writing this series is like eating candy for dinner. I'm like...sorry, not sorry. Conner is the book boyfriend you want in your life. I promise. And if you ever had a crush on the DILF while babysitting, this book is for you.





Chapter One





Conner


If someone told me a year ago that I’d be excited to find out that Magic Erasers really are magic and that one of my best friends was going to be named Roomba, I’d have throat punched him and had another beer.

I have to admit the living room looks bad. Toys strewn everywhere, blankets spread across the floor, and chair cushions in place of baby gates. I did everything in my power to stop the girls from tearing down the fucking walls, but my efforts were laid to waste by the twin tornados I call my nieces. Even now I have almost no idea where the toddlers are. I’m too busy cleaning up the mess they left behind.

I don’t want the babysitter to see this mess when she gets here.

Fuck if that doesn’t sound stupid. Like cleaning a house before the maid comes.

Oh man, if I could hire a maid, my life would be so much easier.

Instead, I’m running around trying to make the house presentable for the nanny so she doesn’t think I’m some kind of useless loser that can’t handle a few hours alone with two kids.

I just wanted to give her one night off. She’s eighteen years old. She should be out with friends, dating, shopping. Hell, whatever eighteen-year-olds do. It’s been too long for me to even remember.

But instead of having a carefree life, Cassidy is stuck here with me most nights. Taking care of tornado clean-up. Playing house to two babies who aren’t hers and a grumpy old fucker who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing unless it’s the eight hours he spends outside of this house doing brickwork.

I don’t know how I got so old in such a short amount of time. I’m twenty-eight, but I feel like the best of my life has passed me by already. Maybe it will get better. Maybe when I’ve had more time with the grief of losing my sister and her husband. Maybe when the twins can use actual words to tell me what they want and what the fuck is wrong so I’m not just trying to guess all the time.

Until then, I need Cassidy. She’s an angel. The girl-next-door who stepped in the night of the accident to make sure I didn’t fall down. She’d already spent the first three months of the twins’ life helping my sister take care of the house and the girls after her rough delivery. Cassidy babysat or helped out whenever my sister needed, so my nieces know and trust her. Hell, they know her better than they know me. Cassidy has been with them since day one.

And now she’s practically their mom.

She’s somehow also managing to go to college. Her classes are online, but I don’t know how she does it. So, I gave her one fucking night off, and the place is falling apart.

After wiping up sweet potato puree from the hardwood floor, I make my way toward the alarming sounds I hear coming from the bathroom. The bathroom that supposedly has a child lock on the doorknob so babies can’t get into it. When I reach the open doorway, I turn on the light and freeze.

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