Athica Lane: The Carpino Series by Brynne Asher Read Free Book Online Page A

she’s divorced, too.  We hooked up after an event at my parents’ house and now she won’t leave me alone, calls and texts all the fucking time.  I answered in the beginning and after telling her I don’t have the time for a relationship, she kept at it.  Now I’m ignoring her completely, but the woman just doesn’t get it. 
    Nothing is fucking simple.
    I pull my Expedition up my drive, thinking I need to clean out the garage and bring the rest of the equipment to The Shed so I don’t have to park outside anymore.  I make my way through the shit, wondering when I can carve out time to do that as I hit the house.  But I’m forced to still myself as soon as I open the door to the laundry room. 
    I still because I can’t help from breathing deeper through my nose.  I tip my head to the side and frown.  It smells different. 
    I move through the dirty laundry that I hate more than anything, but stop again as I get to the door of the kitchen.  That’s when the smell assaults me.
    It’s bleach.  But with lemons.  Sort of antiseptic.  But not like a hospital.  I think I even smell vinegar.  Maybe even oranges.  Definitely citrus. 
    I step through the door and can’t believe my eyes. 
    It’s clean.
    And not clean like I clean it before my family comes to visit because I have no choice but to clean it.
    It’s fucking clean .
    I stand here and take in my huge ass kitchen that never looks any different than it did before I left the house this morning.  I don’t think it’s looked like this since the remodel was done and the last contractor walked out my front door.  The floors are clean, the counters are cleared, the sink is empty and I can tell from here, it’s been scoured.  There are two piles neatly stacked on the island, one looks to be miscellaneous papers and the other unopened mail that’s been collecting for a week. 
    “Meow,” I hear and look down.
    “Hey Duke,” I say.
    He sits and swishes his tail up, back and forth as he looks at the kitchen too, probably as surprised as I am.
    “Did she clean my kitchen?” I ask Little Duke.
    “Meow,” he answers.
    “Shit,” I sigh and throw my duffle on the polished marble island.  The musical notes on my fancy dishwasher rings through the silent house, alerting me the cycle is finished.  She even started more dishes.  What in the hell do I do with all this?
    I move to the fridge and when I open it, I’m stopped in my tracks for a third time.  She even cleaned out my fridge.  The old food and takeout leftovers are gone, it’s even organized.  I reach in, grabbing two beer bottles that are perfectly lined in three rows on the top shelf.  Even the fucking labels are facing the same way. 
    I turn back toward the garage and head out to see my kids.  And to find the cleaning fairy.

Chapter 5 – Sass, Sweet and Wiseass
     
    I’m tired. 
    It took me forever, but it’s official.  Cam Montgomery has one kick-ass kitchen and once it was clean, I might’ve had a mini-orgasm just thinking about cooking on his huge gas range and baking in his double ovens.  Completely mini-orgasm worthy.
    Now I’m wiped from my day.  Finishing blog articles, shopping, prepping for my catering event, keeping up with four kids and resuscitating a kitchen back to life can take it out of you.  I didn’t have the energy to whip up dinner.  We ordered pizzas for delivery. 
    As hot as it’s gotten during the days, we’re early enough into summer for the evenings to cool down nicely.  I sent the kids outside with the dogs, Ariel included since she came back with us.  I didn’t have the heart to leave her with John Wayne.  I’m reclined in a patio chair with my legs propped on the table.  I feel gross and probably look the same from my heroic cleaning escapade.  I’ve got my ear buds in, listening to music on my phone while doing my duty—making sure the kids live to see another day. 
    But I jump when I feel something ice cold against the