Love Under Construction (The Love Under Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

screen. Aubrey walked right in, holding the screen door open behind her for me.
    “Kelli, we’re here,” she called out.
    “I'm in the kitchen,” Kelli's voice came from the right.
    We walked through the large dining area that held two full-length tables with chairs all around, enough to seat twelve people into the kitchen beyond.
    “Hey, girls! You made it back okay,” Kelli said, wiping her hands on her apron.
    “Going in, I hit a lot of traffic, but the way back was much quicker,” Aubrey explained as she washed her hands in the sink.
    “Come on in, Suzie, don't be shy, you know us. It's been a while since you’ve been on the ranch. How long has it been? Four years? Five?”
    “Four, I think. Christmas after Aubrey’s wedding. I’m sorry I haven’t been back.”
    She threw her hands down. “We will always be here. You girls have lives to live. I understand. Just know you always have a home. Are you hungry?”
    “I'm going to get her set up in the guesthouse. Are the keys on the hook?” Aubrey questioned.
    “Yes, the keys are on the hook, but it's open. I have been airing it out since this morning. Nobody's been in there since Christmas.”
    “Thank you for having me, Kelli.” I followed Aubrey out to the guesthouse.
    “Come back in when you’re ready, and I will make us some lunch. The guys won’t be back until late tonight, so you girls are on your own for dinner.”

Max
    It was Saturday night at the bar and it was two-dollar draft night so Brewer's Taps was pretty crowded; nothing like cheap beer to draw in the crowd. It wasn’t the regular Saturday night crowd, though, since Fort Sill was under bivouac training that weekend, so the soldier boys were not there. I didn't plan on staying, but my dad asked me to drop off quarters for the pool table. Jenny met me at the corner of the bar.
    “Where you running off to, stud?"
    I glanced at my rear jeans pocket dramatically. "I don't remember being branded."
    She giggles. "You're funny. Want to drink?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at me.
    "I only drink Jameson."
    "Well, you can drink your Jameson, and you can get me a beer." The whore couldn't even get herself a two-dollar beer. Red flag. But I would play along.
    "Sure, I could stay for a drink." I grabbed my bottle from behind the bar and poured myself a double before pouring her a pint of Pabst Blue Ribbon. It wasn't even worth the two dollars. The glass was worth more than the beer within, but she didn't specify so she got Blue Ribbon's finest.
    I came out onto the other patron side of the bar and Jenny was all over me. She ground her hips and pelvis into my crotch standing in-between my legs while I sat on the barstool.
    “So what was your rush? Don't you want to hang out?"
    I was just coming home from work when my dad called—I was dusty, dirty and still had on my work clothes.
    "I was just passing through. I just got off work."
    “What do you do?” Jenny was two years younger than me if I remembered correctly, not that she would have ran in the same circles. She was one of the cheerleaders, and that definitely wasn't my scene.
    "I'm a contractor." Her eyes lit up, and she smiled.
    "Whoa. Like a sniper?" 
    "No, I build houses." She processed the information, and her confused look quickly change to a smirk as she developed a new angle.
    She grabbed my hand and rubbed it in hers. "I like a man that can use his hands."
    "Do you now?" I grabbed her ass and rubbed her into my growing erection. If she wanted to get fucked, I would oblige her. I could have told her I sold goldfish and she probably would have said fishing was sexy.
    "I can show you with these hands can do." I roughly smacked her ass and ran my hand up and down her back slowly. If she didn't want me feeling her up, it was her opportunity to bow out. Instead, she leaned in and licked my ear.
    "Then why are we still here?" She was not wasting any time. I finished my drink, and no sooner after I set my empty glass on the bar, Jenny