Angus: Conner Brothers Construction Book 2 (CBC) Read online

  ANGUS

  Conner Brothers Construction

  Book 2

  Cee Bowerman

  PROPERTY OF CLBOOKS, LLC

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, Cee Bowerman.

  This book is a work of fiction and the product of the imagination of the author. Names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, any events or locations are entirely coincidental.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Thank you for once again taking a chance on me and letting me entertain you through another story. I enjoy writing each one, and feel like they are a part of my family even though they are just characters in my head.

  Thanks again to my editing team, and my Beta Queens. You ladies are the shit! Don’t let things get too ruthless when you’re calling dibs on Angus! I like him, I might have to get into the scrap myself!

  And readers, thank you so much for your support, and for your excitement for another book in this series. Make sure to follow me on FB, Insta and Twitter (pick your poison, or just mix a coctail and take all three!) so that you can get updates about the next release, character ideas I have, and other little tidbits I throw out along the way.

  I also have all the information you could need, along with blogs and other fun stuff at www.ceebowermanbooks.com .

  Enjoy Angus’s story, and make sure to leave a review on Amazon when you’re finished. Find me online and let me know what you think of the story, and who you might want to hear more about next.

  With much love from Texas, hoping you and yours are okay during this crazy pandemic,

  Cee

  1.

  Lucy & Ethel

  VIOLET

  The crowd in the restaurant was reassuring as I looked around. There were plenty of people here, so if my blind date was a weirdo, I would be able to make a safe escape. I looked around, scanning the crowd for a man in a dark purple button-up shirt, but didn’t see him at first glance.

  I kept scanning the room as I moved closer to the hostess station and when she noticed me, I asked her if Simon had arrived yet for his reservation.

  She looked at me oddly and tilted her head, but then she smiled and said, “No. He’s not seated yet, but I’ll take you over to his table.”

  I followed the hostess to a booth on the far side of the room and then sat down facing the door so I could see this man when he arrived. After all, how many men would be wearing a dark purple shirt? I should be able to pick him out easily.

  After a few minutes, I started to feel edgy, nervous that I was being stood up by a blind date.

  “Of course, you are,” I grumbled to myself as I took a sip of my water.

  “Would you like to wait a few more minutes?” The cheerful waitress asked me with a bright smile.

  “Can I get a drink?” I requested and the waitress smiled and nodded her head. “I’d like a Bloody Mary, please.”

  “Of course. I’ll get that right out to you!” She bounced off and I stared at her wishing I had half the energy she exuded.

  I glanced around the dining area again, this time people watching rather than searching for my date.

  A couple and their toddler were sitting at one of the tables closest to me. I watched the little boy try and balance his food on his spoon over and over again, never quite making it to his mouth. His parents were enjoying the show, too, if their laughter was any indication. Finally, the dad helped his son hold the spoon steady until the potatoes made it all the way to his mouth.

  Another couple, this one older, held hands across the table. Each of them had a book in their other hand as they read, both oblivious to the noise and bustle around them.

  I saw the hostess headed my direction, so I glanced at the man behind her. There were two men following her and neither of them was wearing purple. I studied the men as they got closer to me and saw that they looked so much alike that they must be twins. Neither was what I would consider classically handsome, but they were still good looking. Hot, even. They both had long, dark red beards. Both men also had hair that was just a week or two past needing a trim. The hair on their head was even darker than their beards, a beautiful auburn color that was almost brown.

  I compared the two men and realized that I must not be the only person who thought they looked alike. One of the men had a bead woven into the hair on one side of his beard. Just a simple black bead, but it was easily visible and marked him as different from the man with him.

  I noticed that one of the men, the one with the bead, looked almost angry whereas the other man seemed cheerful and upbeat. I smiled when I had the thought that they were like a before and after picture. This is what he looks like happy, this is what he looks like mad.

  I realized that the mad one, the beaded one, was staring at me and I looked into his eyes. They were a deep brown; from this distance, they looked almost black. His facial expression never changed, even when I smiled at him on purpose in apology for staring. He didn’t acknowledge me in any way, just looked at me from head to toe and then dismissed me like I was nothing.

  That figures, I thought to myself. Nothing interesting to see here, mister. Look away.

  I sighed and looked at the Bloody Mary the waitress had delivered to the table while I was looking around the room.

  Something moved in my peripheral vision and I looked up to see a man standing there staring at me. He was wearing a dark purple button-up shirt and a pair of pressed jeans.

  “Hi,” I said to him with a smile.

  “Are you Violet?”

  “I am. Simon?”

  His face transformed and I was happy to see that he looked much less menacing when he smiled. He was a few inches taller than me and just a tad overweight. I noticed when he sat in the booth seat across the table from me that his hair was lank and oily as if it needed to be washed. His skin was clear, but also oily and I wondered if he had showered recently.

  I chided myself for such an ugly thought and smiled at Simon again.

  “Have you been here long?” Simon asked me.

  “Ten minutes or so, I guess,” I answered, waiting for him to apologize for being late. He didn’t.

  “You’re drinking?”

  “This is my first one. Probably my only one. Do you not drink?”

  “Oh, yeah. I do. I would have figured you for a fruity drink kind of girl.”

  “Why?”

  Simon shrugged and put his hand up to catch the attention of the waitress. When she didn’t immediately start toward our table, he snapped his fingers at her.

  Great. I glanced down at my phone to check the time and wondered how quickly I could get out of here. A new novel was sitting on my coffee table just waiting to be read. I’d much rather be losing myself in the pages of a good book than sitting across the table from a man who snaps at people.

  “I’ll take a beer in a frosty mug, no foam on top,” Simon said to the waitress curtly. No smile, hello, nothing. Just an order.

  The waitress glanced over at me and I cringed on her behalf.

  “I’m glad you finally decided to meet me,” Simon said without preamble. “I thought you would never agree to this.”

  “I wasn’t sure it was a good idea,” I told him honestly and then tried to direct the conversation in a way that let him know exactly where our relationship stood. “But it’s always good to meet new friends, right?”

  “We’ve been talking online for over a month,” Simon said with a chuckle and then added, “How much more work does a guy have to put in, anyway?”

  “Work? For what?”

  “To get laid.”

  “Laid?” I asked, probably a little too loud.

  “You and I have been dating for over a month, as far as I’m concerned. We talk every single day.”

  I just stared at him, confused.

  “That’s what we’ve been doing, right? Foreplay.”

  “Um. No,” I said firmly. “That’s not what that was at all. We were talking.”

  Simon waved his hand toward me as if to brush away my words. “Where are we going after dinner?”

  I shook my head slowly and answered honestly, “I’m going home. Alone.”

  “You’ve been putting me off for weeks. It’s not like you’re going to get a better offer,” Simon chuckled again and then motioned for the waitress.

  “Okay. Let’s get a few things straight,” I told Simon firmly. “This is not a date. You and I are not dating. We’re not ever going to date or anything else for that matter. You’re nothing like you seemed online. Maybe I should go.”

  I saw the change come over Simon’s face. He was cocky, then he was unsure and angry. His face went completely blank for a second and then he smiled at me.

  “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole when I’m nervous,” he said almost shyly. “Let’s just eat dinner and talk like we always do. This time it will be in person instead of on the computer.”

  I stared at him for a full minute trying to assess this change in his personality.

  “You’re an asshole when you're nervous?” I asked doubtfully.

  “I was trying to exude confidence. I guess that comes off as an asshole.” Simon laughed and then patted his chest. “Too many self-help books
have me trying new things. I just wanted you to like me.”

  He looked so innocent and he sounded so sweet, it was almost easy to forget what a total dick he was a few minutes ago.

  “Let’s start over,” Simon said as he stuck his hand out across the table. “I’m Simon and you must be Violet.”

  I put my hand in his and decided to give him one more chance. Nerves made me quiet and shy. Maybe he was the type of person that acted out rather than sinking inward.

  “Nice to meet you, Simon.”

  “Much better. So, what are you having for dinner? I think the salmon looks like a good idea,” Simon flipped the page in his menu and then glanced up at me. “Do you like salmon?”

  And then as if the last few minutes had never happened, we fell into easy conversation, just like the ones we had been having on the computer for the last month.

  When the waitress came to take our order, she was understandably a little gun shy, but he put her at ease by apologizing for his earlier gruffness. By the time she had our order down, she was laughing and smiling with the two of us.

  As we talked, I looked at Simon again, but this time with a friendlier eye. Yes, he did need to wash his hair and face, but his features weren’t that bad. His eyes were a bright blue, his skin was a bit pale, but it suited him, and his teeth were straight and white. I glanced down at his hands to see him shredding the cocktail napkin under his beer and thought that he had very nice fingers. When he had shaken my hand earlier, his grip seemed weak, but maybe he just did that in deference to the fact that I was a woman with small hands.

  Dinner came out and we talked about everyday things while the two of us enjoyed our meal. I found myself laughing out loud more than once when Simon’s quick wit took me off guard.

  When the waitress took our empty plates, Simon ordered another beer for himself and another Bloody Mary for me.

  “I’m so glad you finally decided to meet with me,” Simon said with a smile.

  “As I said, it’s good to make new friends.”

  “But aren’t we more than friends?” Simon asked honestly. “We’ve told each other all sorts of secrets already, almost like we’re a couple.”

  “I think we’ll just be friends, Simon. I don’t think we have the spark to date, but I definitely like talking to you.” I smiled at Simon across the table as he stared at me, the expression on his face changing rapidly again as it had earlier.

  The waitress sat our drinks down and I stirred mine before pulling the straw out and laying it on the napkin beside my glass.

  “I really wish you’d give us a chance,” Simon said sadly. “I really like you.”

  “You can never have too many friends,” I smiled at him and reached across to touch his hand. “I like you, Simon, I really do, but I don’t think we should consider this a date. Let’s just stay friends, okay?”

  “Sure,” Simon said, the smile on his face tight.

  “I have to run to the restroom; I’ll be right back.” Simon watched me as I got up and I was glad to finally move away from the table and have a few minutes without his eyes on me. His gaze was becoming a little uncomfortable again since I had reminded him of the ‘just friends’ thing.

  I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone to text my sister as I turned the corner down the hall to get to the restroom. Just as I pushed send on the text, I ran right into a wall and bounced off, almost falling. I realized that it was a man rather than a wall when strong hands took hold of my upper arms and set me back on my feet.

  “Sorry,” I said as I looked up into the eyes of the man I had noticed earlier. It was the guy with the black bead in his long beard. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not a problem, hon. I didn’t mean to knock you off your feet,” he said in a deep, rich voice. “You okay?”

  “I am.” I smiled again and noticed that he didn’t smile back. “Excuse me.”

  I darted around him and when I pushed open the bathroom door, I glanced back to see him watching me. He finally smiled, almost. It was more like a slight lift of one side of his lips, but I’d take that as a smile. I shot him a little wave as I walked through the door, hearing it whoosh shut quickly behind me before I could look back again.

  “Are you on a date?” the girl beside me at the sink asked. I recognized her as the hostess who I had seen earlier.

  “No,” I said with a small laugh as I reapplied my lip gloss. “I guess it was supposed to be a date, at least he thought so. I thought I was just meeting a new friend.”

  “You’re prettier than most of the women he meets here.”

  “What?”

  “You are. You’re really pretty.”

  “Well, thank you, but what do you mean? He meets a lot of women here?” I asked conversationally as I turned on the warm water to wash my hands.

  “Yeah. Every week or so, he’s here with a different woman.”

  “Hmmm.” I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “He gets them drunk,” the hostess said honestly and then shuddered. “I think that’s the only way they’ll go home with him.”

  “I am not drunk,” I said firmly as I dried my hands. “And I’m not going home with him.”

  “Good for you, girl. You can do much better!”

  “Thank you,” I smiled at the young woman and then opened the bathroom door. She and I walked down the short hallway together and then split as she walked toward the front of the restaurant and I went back to the table.

  “Sorry I took so long,” I said as I sat down. “I made a new friend in the bathroom.”

  “Not a problem,” Simon said with a tight smile. “I was just enjoying my beer. You’ve still got quite a bit of your drink left. Will you want another one?”

  “No,” I said as I took the straw out of my drink and set it on the napkin. “I’m just going to finish this one and then head home.”

  Simon leaned his arms on the table and smiled brightly before he asked me about my latest project. He knew that I was a writer and that I loved to read; he and I had talked about a few of our favorite authors during more than one of our conversations online.

  I was once again comfortable talking to Simon and before I realized how long we had been sitting there I was finished with my drink. I was so thirsty that I pulled my water glass in front of me and took a quick sip.

  “I should get going,” I said as I took another sip of my water. “Can we talk on the computer tomorrow?”

  “Let’s sit here for just another few minutes while I finish my beer,” Simon requested.

  I didn’t see the harm in that, especially when he asked me about the book I had been working on for the last few weeks. I gave him an overview making sure not to give away the plot or any spoilers and Simon seemed very interested in the story.

  I heard a loud noise and turned my head quickly to look for the source of it. I got dizzy and blinked a few times as I turned my head straight again.

  “What were you saying?” I asked Simon. It sounded like my voice was coming from far away and I shook my head.

  Simon started talking, but it was hard to focus on his words. I blinked my eyes and took a deep breath, fighting another wave of dizziness. I looked up when the waitress stopped at our table, but I couldn’t quite see her face. She seemed cloudy and it looked like she was melting.

  Melting? I thought to myself. That doesn’t sound right.

  I shook my head and looked back up to see the waitress was gone. I heard Simon talking to me from far away and tried to focus on his voice.

  “I feel odd,” I said to him, again hearing my own voice at a distance. “And warm.”

  “Let’s get you home. You’ve probably just had too much to drink.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “I didn’t drink too much.”

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Simon said, but now he was standing beside me. I felt his hand on mine and then I was moving up.

  I felt like my head might detach from my body and float away up to the ceiling and then get stuck there. I wondered if I looked up if I could see my head there, probably too close to the ceiling fan like a balloon. I leaned my head back to look and felt myself falling.