Sneak Peek
Luke – Rebels Advocate (Book 3)
Chapter 1
Lexi
I stand before the house that’s going to become my home for the foreseeable future and it’s a heap of shit.
What the hell possessed me to buy this crap? I’ve been flipping houses for the past four years, and usually, I go for something that just needs a facelift, but this? This needs to be completely gutted and rebuilt.
I don’t know what I was thinking when I took on such a big project. My last few projects needed new kitchens and bathrooms, new carpets in the bedrooms, and fancy ass floorboards in the living spaces. Then after a fresh coat of paint, they looked incredible and I made a shit load of money on it.
I would spend a bit of time demolishing all the old crap I didn’t like and then hire a carpenter to get the room ready, then it’s as easy as going down to the store, picking out what I like and getting them to come and install it.
But as I look up at this fucker, I know I’m going to have to get my hands dirty, hell, I’ll probably break a few nails in the process too. It will probably cost me a bomb to renovate, but it’s on a great street with parks and a school. It’s perfect for a young family and I know after the hard yards, it will be worth it.
I walk up the cracked concrete pathway that leads to the front door and start taking note of all the things that need to be fixed. I’ll need new light fixtures out on the porch. New windows and doors and a crap load of landscaping.
I pull the keys out of my pocket which I just picked up from the realtor and unlock the door. As I push it open, the first thing that hits me is the god-awful smell wafting out of the carpets. I groan as I step through the threshold. The place is damp and has been locked up for, who knows how long, making the smell seem so much worse.
Before I even look through the rest of the house, I crack every single window in the house and slide them right open to hopefully dull the stench that wafts up from the stained carpets. I mean, how the hell do people let their homes get so bad?
My mental note of things to do keeps growing to the point I dash back outside to my truck and grab a notepad and pen. I instantly start jotting things down. I head back inside and continue making my way around the house and by the time I’ve made it the whole way around, I have a complete plan in mind, and unfortunately, it’s going to cost a lot of money.
Just freaking great. I really should have thought this through a little better, but my stupid need to take on impossible challenges just keeps getting in the way.
Even with this daunting task ahead of me, I’ve never been so excited and I can’t wait to get started. I know I’ve only just walked through the door and it’s only ten past seven on a Monday morning, but I just don’t care. I want to get this show on the road.
First things first, I need to get one of those big dumpsters so I can strip this place down to its bones. I look around for somewhere to sit and decide nothing here is worthy for my ass to sit on just yet. I head back out to my truck and sit in the driver’s seat as I search through my phone for a local dumpster guy.
The second that’s ordered, I hop out of the truck and walk around the back. I grin as I look down at my trusty sledgehammer.
Hell yeah. There’s nothing better than demolition. You know, grabbing that sledgehammer and using all your might to tear something down. It just gives me this twisted sense of satisfaction and I don’t even care that it’s wrong. It’s fun and I love it.
I duck into my truck and grab my speakers out of the suitcase in my back seat before heading back into my rundown house. I plug in the speakers, thrilled that the electricity actually works and I bust the music up as loud as it can go as I can’t possibly do this shit without it.
Now, the real challenge is working out where the hell to start. I guess it comes down to what’s more important. Bathroom. Bedroom. Kitchen.
Hmmm, I’ll start with the bedroom.
Taking my sledgehammer, I dump it in one of the four bedrooms and head back out to my truck to grab the heavy bag of tools that I’ve collected over the past few years.
As I stand back in the bedroom, I take a deeper look around. It’s going to need a lot of work. The walls have holes and water stains which are probably from the bathroom in the adjoining room. The carpets are old, worn and stinky, and the room could probably use a proper closet.
With my plan in place, I swing the sledgehammer over my shoulder and go nuts. It comes down hard on the old walls, and ten minutes later, I’m pleased to see the framework underneath still looks pretty damn good, but I’m even more pleased to find that the walls are coming down really quickly. Looks like this demo isn’t going to be so bad.
I’m busy shaking my ass to Demi’s ‘Cool for the Summer’ when a voice behind me scares the living shit out of me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea what fucking time it is?”
I spin around to face the man who stands in my bedroom doorway. “Excuse me?” I grunt in surprise while holding onto the sledgehammer. I mean, if he decides to take a step closer to me, I’m going to lay his ass out. Who the hell does he think he is waltzing on into my home without an invitation? The guy could be a killer for all I know.
I quickly take in the stranger and from the looks of him, maybe I might just let him take a step closer. Hell, a little fun with a perfect stranger would be a great way to celebrate my new project.
My eyes travel from his bare feet, up his strong body and wide chest all the way to his dark hair, and I’m not disappointed. The man is tall with the hottest stubble I’ve ever seen across his sharp jawline. He’s intimidating and from the way he holds his big body, I get a feeling he wants to be, and even with all his clothes on, I can tell he takes care of himself. This man is the real deal. He’s not the kind to mess around. He’s built solely on testosterone and he doesn’t take no for an answer.
“You heard me,” he spits. “It’s ten past seven on a Monday morning and you’re waking up the whole fucking street with all this noise.”
Ahhh… so he must be one of my neighbors. Great. I’ve been here for less than half an hour and I’ve already managed to piss someone off. Good work, Lex. Excellent job.
In any other situation, I’d apologize and turn my music down, but seeing as though this dickhead had the nerve to waltz on in her without bothering to knock and use a tone that would rival one of the devils, I’m feeling like a big fuck off is coming his way.
I give him a sweet smile and find my most condescending tone which I usually reserve for when my husband hunts me down. “Where I’m from, it’s considered a dick move to barge into a woman’s home.” I change my tone to mimic a tour guide. “Now, if you look to your left, you’ll see a hallway that opens up into a wide space. Just to the right of that space is the exit. Thank you for visiting and please make sure to keep your arms and legs inside the carriage at all times.”
His eyebrows pull down as he gives me a confused look. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“With me?” I shriek at this strange man. “You’re the one with a problem. Who barges into someone else’s home without an invitation?”
“People like me who are pissed off with their inconsiderate neighbors,” he yells, making sure he’s heard over the music.
“Well, excuse me for not being a lazy slob. Now, how were you going finding that exit?”
He doesn’t move, just stands there staring at me with his arms crossed over his big chest. “Turn your music down,” he demands.
“Get out of my house,” I throw back.
He narrows his eyes and I see nothing but a challenge. “Turn the music down,” he repeats.
“This isn’t a negotiation,” I tell him, wanting nothing more than to piss him off. “My music isn’t that loud and I have shit to do. So, if you’d like me to turn it down, a ‘please’ would go a long way. Hell, maybe you could come to the door, knock, and wait patiently like a regular human being, and I’m sure I’d be more than happy to help you. But because you decided to storm into my home like a raging bull, you can get fucked.”
His hands clench into fists, but for some reason, I feel like I can push this guy to the absolute limit and he’d never touch me. It’s something in his dark eyes. He’s safe. I don’t know why or how, but I trust him to keep his cool. “You’re infuriating,” he seethes.
“And you’re an asshole.”
I see his jaw clench which only manages to sharpen his jawline even more. “Do you think you’re the first woman to call me that?” he scoffs.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that, but I’m so glad we’ve got that cleared up. Now, kindly take yourself and your bad attitude, and don’t let the door smack you on the ass on your way out.”
He huffs and leans against the doorframe as though he’s a permanent fixture of the house. “I’m not going anywhere until you turn that shit down.”
“And you think I’m infuriating?” I scoff.
“You are,” he confirms with a smirk that blows me away. I mean, this man. Wow. If he wasn’t such an irritating prick, I’d be bent over at the waist begging for him to take me.
“Say please.”
“No way in hell,” he scoffs, crossing his leg over the other, making his point about not leaving. Hell, the dickhead looks as though he’ll stand there all day until I give in.
I take a page out of his book and make a show of getting myself comfortable. I lean back against the window frame, cross my arms over my chest with my sledgehammer down by my side, and bat my eyelashes at him. “Well, looks like we have a little situation here,” I say, trying to sound casually bored with what’s going on.
He narrows his eyes again as though he’s trying to work me out. “How long do you plan on being here?” he questions.
“Until the job is done.”
He lets out a frustrated breath, but a knock steals both of our attention. He leans back out of the doorway so he can look up the hallway to whoever stands at the door. He doesn’t dare move and I cringe, doubting that he’ll move out of my way.
I walk closer to the stranger and do my best to step around him without actually touching him. I look up the hallway and see a man waiting by the open door. “Oh, look at that,” I smile. “A man who knows a little something about common courtesy. You should go and introduce yourself. You could learn a lot from him.”
I walk down to the new man. “How can I help you?” I ask.
“I’m delivering a dumpster,” he tells me. “Where would you like it?”
My morning finally starts looking up. “Excellent,” I grin. “Just put it anywhere you can find a space,” I tell him.
He nods his head and disappears.
While I’m standing by the door, I look back at the stranger in my bedroom. I make an exaggerated sweep of my hand, gesturing for him to leave. “Any day now,” I tell him. “I’ll even hold the door for you.”
He lets out his hundredth huff for the morning and finally gives in. He walks up the hallway but stops by the kitchen counter where my speakers are sitting. In one quick twist of his wrist, he yanks the power cord out of the outlet and straight out the back of the speakers.
I watch in disbelief as he wraps the cord in a tight little circle before slipping it into his pocket with a smirk. “Have a great day,” he tells me with a grin before stepping through the door and smacking me in the face with his heavenly scent.
Holy shit.
Did that just happen?
“You’re an asshole,” I yell after him.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he throws over his shoulder before disappearing to the dazzling house directly beside mine.
If I was as forward as he was, I’d storm right in there and steal my power cord back. Hell, I’d probably even take something of his, but I know a little something about respecting another being’s privacy.
I huff and even stomp my foot a little. That man had the nerve to call me infuriating. He’s the infuriating one. He’s the one who came into my home and lost his shit. How dare he?
I want to scream, but I resist, knowing he’ll hear it.
I’ll work out a plan to get the power cord back, but for now, I need to calm down and get going on this demolition. I have a lot to do before I get my trusty carpenter to come and help me. Hell, after the past four years, I’ve learned a lot about renovating homes, so there’s quite a lot I’m confident in doing, but with that said, there’s a lot of shit I can’t possibly do by myself.
I grab my phone off the kitchen counter and head back into the bedroom. I flick the music on through my phone. It’s not the same but it will have to do for now.
The dumpster guy calls from the front door that he’s done and I head out to sign the paperwork. He tells me he’ll be back in a few days and I thank him before sending him on his way.
With the dumpster in the front yard, I can finally concentrate on turning this shithole in a home.