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Too Hard




  Too Hard

  Alexa Riley

  Contents

  HEA on the go

  Too Hard

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Double the Ache

  Stalk the Author

  Copyright © 2019 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to riley_alexa@aol.com

  http://alexariley.com/

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover Design: Perfect Pear Creative Covers

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  Too Hard

  by Alexa Riley

  Harlow Harrison has just moved into a new apartment. The only problem is that Harlow thinks she can do everything on her own when it’s better to leave it to a professional After a disastrous water leak and an emergency call, the man that comes to her rescue might be more than she can handle.

  Butch Barton is busy running his company and raising his adopted twin sons. They’re almost ready for college and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with himself when they’re gone. One night on an emergency call he meets a young woman who calls to every dark place inside him. He’s old enough to be her dad and he has to keep his distance. The only problem is, Harlow doesn’t agree and it won’t take long for her to break down his resolve.

  Warning: Butch isn’t too old to find love and Harlow isn’t too young to be taken like she wants. Find out what happens when these two finally give in to what their bodies have been begging for.

  For Summer-Winter Romances…

  and all the seasons in-between.

  Chapter One

  Harlow

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  I pull my eyes away from my computer screen to glare towards the kitchen. The sound of the pipe dripping is driving me insane. It only started this morning, but it’s the first thing I heard when my eyes sprang open. I fell asleep on the sofa again while I was working.

  I put my laptop down next to me and go to the kitchen sink. I lean down and see the pan I put under it hasn’t filled up much. It isn’t that big of a deal and it will hold until the contractor gets here, but it’s the sound that’s driving me crazy.

  My old kitchen didn’t have this problem and I still don’t see why it needed an update to begin with. I look around the kitchen my cousin redesigned for me. It’s a starter project for her since she just graduated from design school. She’s looking to fill her portfolio and I let her redo my kitchen. After that it all escalated rather quickly.

  The kitchen is done but now she’s moved to my office. Which is why I’m working in my living room. I’m going to have the fanciest apartment in this whole building when she’s done. I don’t care where I live, I just work and play on my computer. Where I do that has no impact on me unless there’s an annoying sound driving me crazy.

  The kitchen is pretty, though, and she did an amazing job. I’ve never given the space much thought and I never use it except for washing a random dish from my takeout food. Nellie did, though, because whenever she came over she wouldn’t let us order in. She cooks for the both of us, saying it’s the only way I get a home-cooked meal. Another reason I’m okay with her redoing it. She uses it more than me and I enjoy the food she makes for us in it.

  To be honest, I just enjoy having her over here since I’m not prone to going out. She’s my main source of social interaction and she’s not only my cousin but more of a sister to me. We grew up together since our moms were thick as thieves. Both of them were single moms and the four of us always stuck together. We even all lived together at one point. I was the oddball of the four of us since I always had my nose pressed to a screen of some kind. It was either a computer or some kind of e-reader. I’ve always found technology fascinating.

  Our moms both own a hair salon together and Nellie went into design. They all have an eye for making things look pretty when I can’t put an outfit together to save my life. If it wasn’t for my mom and aunt I’d probably look like a hot mess, but I wouldn’t know it if I did. I enjoy our monthly salon dates even if it isn’t my thing. They never make me feel like I’m anything less than fabulous. They dote on me while they do what they call upkeep. I never care what they do to me while I’m there, I just enjoy being together. We can all get busy with work and we make sure we hold our dates with each other.

  I pick up my cell phone from the counter and hit the call button. “The contractor will be there tomorrow,” Nellie says when she answers the phone. “It must be driving you nuts if you’re calling and not texting.”

  That’s the truth, because who calls people anymore? Okay, our moms call, but over forty is the exception to the rule; also, moms can do whatever they want.

  “I can’t get anything done.” I motion to my laptop sitting on the sofa as if she can see me do it.

  “I’m sorry! This contractor is usually so good, but he just can’t get there today because it’s Sunday,” she reminds me, and I know her tone. Without saying it, she’s telling me I shouldn’t be working anyway.

  It doesn’t count though because I really enjoy this project. A new company contracted me to try and hack their system. For the first time in a long time it’s a challenge. It’s both annoying and fascinating and I should be locked into finding a way into their system and accounts but the sink is driving me bananas. I’m going to blame the sink on the fact that I haven’t cracked their system yet. I’m not used to giving a report that says “your online security is perfect.” Mom would tell me I couldn’t win them all if she were here.

  “Fine. I’ll wait,” I sigh. The contractor did a good job on the rest of the kitchen and it’s pretty. My office is coming together, too, but I’m just impatient.

  “Liar,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “You stay away from that sink unless you’re emptying the pan under it.”

  My eyes go back to the dripping pipe. How did she know I was thinking about trying to tighten it myself? I read online it could be a simple fix. All you have to do is tighten it a little and I’m sure I have the tool I saw online. There has to be one in my office, which is more like a construction site right now. I saw tools all over in there when I peeked inside.

  “Whatever,” I mumble, not confirming or denying that I might try and fix it myself. I should be able to fix it. I�
��m a smart capable woman and I can do this.

  “You’re computer smart,” Nellie chirps into my ear, reading my mind. “You have no idea how to fix a pipe or pump gas.” Okay, maybe she’s right, but I don’t have to admit it.

  “I can pump gas.” My face warms as she bursts into laughter. “It looks easy.” I don’t own a car, but I think I can put the pump thing in the car-hole-thing easy enough.

  “I’m sure you could, but I’m also sure you’d end up doing something to make things go terribly wrong. Like the time you tried to fix my flat iron.”

  “Why do you always bring that up?” I was thirteen and was sure I could figure out why it wasn’t working. I was wrong, and not only was I wrong but I got the shock of my life after I took it apart and put it back together. It shocked the hell out of me and took out the power to the whole building we lived in. To this day no one else knows I was the one to cause that outage. Nellie and I are taking that one to the grave, but it doesn’t stop her from bringing it up when it’s just us.

  “I’m keeping it fresh in that mind of yours. That way you remember you can’t do everything just because you read how to on the internet.”

  She’s wrong, because why else would everyone post how to do things on the internet?

  “Fine. Tomorrow.” I pretend to give in.

  “Harlow,” she warns.

  “See you then.” I end the call quickly before she can try and stop me; I’m not that hopeless.

  I can fix a stupid pipe and I decide that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I go to my office and grab the wrench. It’s only a little turn, I think I can manage it. My phone rings and Nellie’s number lights up on the screen. I’ll call her back after I fix the leak. I’ll be extra smug about it, too.

  Leaning down, I lock the wrench around the pipe but nothing happens. I turn it just a bit but I can’t get it to move. It feels stuck and I’m sure if I just twist it a little it will be totally fine.

  Wrapping both hands around the handle this time, I pull with all my might.

  I scream as water explodes out from the pipe and drenches me. My phone keeps ringing as water pours out of the pipe, but it’s not Nellie's ringtone anymore. There’s no way I’m telling her about this because I’ll never live it down.

  I do the only other thing I can think of and I call the building manager. There’s no way this new leak can wait until tomorrow. Well, it’s not really a leak anymore. I need it fixed before Nellie finds out or the contractor shows up tomorrow to see what I’ve done.

  How do I always do this to myself?

  Chapter Two

  Butch

  Nighttime calls are never my favorite, but it’s part of the job. It’s not like I was doing anything anyway, but still, I was planning on being in for the night. I’d gotten home and was unpacking my to-go order when the apartment complex directed a call to me. I told my nephews to come with me and we took the food with us and ate it in the car on the way over.

  I don’t normally take these kinds of calls, but I’m the backup emergency for a friend who manages the property. He’s on vacation this week and asked me if I’d take care of the things that couldn’t wait until he got back. I agreed, thinking it would be easy, but it’s been one call after another trying to keep up with my business and his.

  When I was younger I worked construction during the summer and I found out that I was really good at it. I liked being good at something and decided it’s the thing I was supposed to do. I opened my own business when I was in my late twenties and started building it from there. I’m still good at what I do and word of mouth has made a name for my company and people trust me. I’m busy all the time and I’ve had to hire on extra crew, but it’s not like I have much else going on in my personal life.

  I’ve been raising my twin nephews on my own since they were two years old and my sister died. She got pregnant by some deadbeat who signed his rights away, so I was helping her and there for them from the beginning. She was still pretty young when she had them, and having babies didn’t slow her down. She would drop them at my place and take off for the weekend without so much as a backward glance. I loved her, but she wasn’t the best mom and she lived a reckless life. She was driving home drunk and on god knows what when she drove her car off the road. The doctors said she died instantly, and I guess I have that to be thankful for. But as awful as it sounds, I’m just glad she didn’t hurt anyone else. She’d already done enough damage to the people around her, but I hate she never took the chance to turn her life around.

  It’s been years and I’ve learned to let go of what ifs and appreciate the life I’ve had. I got the best of her in those boys and hearing them call me “Dad” never gets old.

  “Only thirty-four more days,” Elijah says, and Owen nods and smiles.

  “I don’t know why you’re so excited to turn eighteen,” I say as we pull up in the parking lot and I get out of the truck. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

  “Ha ha, Dad.” Owen rolls his eyes as he grabs the other tool box and we get out.

  I brought them with me tonight because I don’t like to leave them home alone, and it’s good for them to learn how to handle stuff like this. Although to be fair the boys have been on my job sites since they could walk and probably know better than me how to fix something.

  “Legally we’ll be able to do whatever we want.” Elijah is the mischievous one and he knows I’ve got my eyes on him.

  “Boy, you better think again if you’re betting the law is on your side.” I hear Owen laugh behind me. “Dad law is the only thing you need to worry about.”

  “Elijah thinks if he’s eighteen Corinne Marks will suck his dick.” Owen ducks out of the way as Elijah swings the tool box at him.

  “What?” I ask as I stop walking and turn around to face the two of them.

  “She likes college guys.” Elijah shrugs and I sigh.

  I’m going to have to have another talk with them again tonight. I swear to god I never realized how horny boys are, but it’s been so long since I was one that maybe I’ve just forgotten. It’s not like my dick gets any attention these days, so maybe it’s just quit working. Between my long days and nights and trying to raise the two of them, I have no time for my own damn hand, let alone a woman.

  I’ll be forty-one next month just after the twins’ birthday and I’m sad they’re growing up so fast. Some days I feel like it’s all going by so fast and I wish I could have had them as babies longer. I even wonder what it would have been like to have a girl, but that part of my life is over now and I need to think about what I’m going to do with all my time when they go to college.

  “Let’s get this job done and then we can talk about exactly what you can’t do to a girl younger than you when you’re eighteen,” I say as I check my phone for the apartment number and walk up the flight of stairs.

  “I told you he’d say that,” Owen whispers to Elijah loud enough for me to hear.

  I love those boys, but if they don’t get their dicks under control I’m going to put them in a monastery until they can calm down.

  “Time to work,” I say when we get to the door and I turn back to stare at both of them.

  “Yes, sir,” they say at the same time and straighten up. I give them a hard time but they really are good kids.

  I turn back around, knock on the door, and sling my toolbelt over my shoulder. All I know about the call is there’s a sink leaking but I don’t know why this couldn’t wait until the morning. Just when I raise my fist to knock again the door comes flying open and a young woman is standing there soaking wet.

  Her dark green eyes are looking at me and pleading for help. From the moment I see her, all I want to do is make whatever the problem is go away. The only other time I’ve felt this protective was with my boys and it could be because she’s probably their age.

  “Oh shit,” I hear one of the twins whisper behind me, but it’s hard to hear it over the pounding in my ears.

  I glance down
and see she’s wearing a white T-shirt that’s dripping wet and clinging to every sultry curve of her body. I can see every detail of her nipples pressed against the threadbare material as she stands there dripping. Her dark red hair is so long it could almost cover them up if it was in the right place. From what I see she’s not wearing a bra and her tits are bouncing as she talks fast.

  “The sink, I tried to fix it but I made it worse and I can’t get it to stop spraying.” She’s panicked as her dark green eyes look up at me with worry and fear.

  “You’re okay, I’m going to make it alright,” I say, stepping closer to her.

  “Is this real?” Owen says, too low for her to hear but I know what they’re thinking.

  I know because it’s the same thing I’m thinking. Jesus Christ, how old is this girl? Please let her be legal or I’m going to have to send the boys out of here. Maybe I should do it anyway so she doesn’t have them looking at her.

  “I think I can handle this if y’all want to go back to the truck,” I say.

  “Not a chance,” Elijah says as he steps inside with me.

  “Ma’am, why don’t you go, um, dry off,” I say, avoiding looking at her tits and using every ounce of self-control as I do so.

  “It’s in here!” She runs into the kitchen, which is a mistake because it just makes her tits move more.