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    Tongue & Groove
    Tongue & Groove
    Tongue & Groove
    Ebook103 pages1 hour

    Tongue & Groove

    By Shae Connor

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Sometimes home is what two hearts make of it.

    After fifteen years on the road, rock singer Saul Wilder doesn't know if he remembers how to stay in one place. While healing from a vocal cord injury, he decides to restore the cozy but neglected Atlanta home his grandmother left him. When home renovation specialist Perry Abrams arrives to assess the job, Saul's on board with mixing business with a little pleasure. The sex is scorching hot, but the more they learn about each other, the deeper they fall emotionally as well. Trouble is, Saul's a traveling man and Perry's a homebody, so finding common ground to share could put the brakes on their relationship before it has a chance to get started.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherShae Connor
    Release dateAug 29, 2016
    ISBN9781536587166
    Tongue & Groove

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      Book preview

      Tongue & Groove - Shae Connor

      Tongue & Groove

      By Shae Connor

      Sometimes home is what two hearts make of it.

      After fifteen years on the road, rock singer Saul Wilder doesn’t know if he remembers how to stay in one place. While healing from a vocal cord injury, he decides to restore the cozy but neglected Atlanta home his grandmother left him. When home renovation specialist Perry Abrams arrives to assess the job, Saul’s on board with mixing business with a little pleasure. The sex is scorching hot, but the more they learn about each other, the deeper they fall emotionally as well. Trouble is, Saul’s a traveling man and Perry’s a homebody, so finding common ground to share could put the brakes on their relationship before it has a chance to get started.

      Acknowledgements

      Thanks to Rhonda, Trish, and Mags for making the words pretty, AngstyG for making the cover pretty, and Nathan for making the inside pretty. Also thanks to William for tips and suggestions that saved me lots of time and headaches.

      And thank you to the readers who have made this endeavor worthwhile!

      Saul Wilder parked his rolling suitcase inside the front door and dropped his duffel bag on the faded area rug, where it stirred up a cloud of dust. He suppressed a cough with effort and glanced around. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d been in his grandmother’s house, when he’d stayed over in his old room at Christmas three and a half years before. She’d had to move into a nursing home before his next trip through Atlanta, and he’d visited her there instead.

      Now she was gone, and her house his, at least for the next few months.

      Saul’s throat throbbed, and he checked the time on his phone. Another hour before he could take his next painkiller, but he could have a cup of tea in the meantime. First thing on his cleaning list would be to wipe out all this dust, but close behind would be an electric kettle. Waiting for a pot of water to boil several times a day would get old fast.

      He left his suitcases by the door and carried the grocery bags past the stairs and down the long hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. Built in the early 1900s, the Craftsman-style bungalow originally had just the two bedrooms and one bath downstairs, but his grandparents had renovated the former attic space into a new master bedroom and bath about twenty years earlier, not long before Saul moved in.

      More space for Saul to have to clean out now.

      He was pretty sure all the food in the kitchen had long been cleared out—or, at least, his cousin said they’d taken care of it. He’d stopped at the grocery store on his way over from the hotel, though, so he had tea and a few other supplies.

      He set the two plastic bags on the counter and dug in the cabinet next to the stove for a small pot. After filling it with water and putting it on to boil, he found a dozen small, flowered mugs in another cabinet and washed the dust out of one of them. One more thing for him to get rid of. He had a list of estate sale experts to contact, since he knew some of his grandmother’s things probably had some value to them. Anything that didn’t would go off to charity.

      He didn’t feel much attachment to the things in the house, or even the house itself, even though it had been his home base for the past fifteen years. His only real attachment had been to his grandmother.

      The warm tea soothed his throat as it went down, taking the sharp edges off the ongoing ache. As much as the pain annoyed him, he’d decided at least it helped him remember the rules: no singing outside therapy, as little talking as possible, and take your meds on schedule.

      Apparently vocal cord nodules are nothing to be trifled with, especially for someone who sings for a living.

      The distant sound of a knock at the front door surprised him. He didn’t expect anyone until ten the next morning, when the cleaning service would arrive to start the serious dirty work. Mug in hand, he headed back up the hallway, pausing to push aside the dingy lace curtain covering the narrow window next to the door so he could get a glimpse of his visitor.

      Outside stood a young man, slim, several inches shorter than him, clean-shaven but with straight, chin-length hair. He wore dress pants and shirt with a vest and carried a briefcase and a long cardboard tube.

      Salesman? Saul didn’t think they went door-to-door anymore, but he’d lived in hotels for most of the past decade, so what did he really know? He set his mug on a spindly legged table next to the door and flipped the locks.

      The man didn’t smile or appear to react at all when Saul pulled the door open. May I help you? Saul whispered, following the rules his doctors had laid down.

      Are you Saul Wilder? The man’s voice was light, almost melodic, higher than Saul expected, but with a raspy edge to it. Now that Saul could see him directly rather than from the side, he could see how good-looking he was. Almost pretty, in a somewhat feminine, androgynous way.

      Saul nodded. He’d save speech for when it became necessary.

      I’m Perry Abrams. I’m here to talk to you about the home restoration project.

      Saul raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask, Perry answered. Your manager told me you might not be expecting me quite so soon, but I had another project wrap up early, and I thought you might want to go ahead and get started.

      Saul rolled his eyes. Lewis did have a tendency to get things all set up and then oh, by the way him with it. And this Perry guy didn’t look like an axe murderer. Unless he was secretly a martial arts master, if it came down to it, Saul thought he could take him.

      Saul unlatched the old screen door and pushed it open. Come on in, he whispered.

      He left the door ajar, just in case, and picked up his mug before waving his free hand toward the living room to the right of the door. Perry followed his silent instructions and perched on the edge of the ornate sofa that formed the centerpiece of the furniture arrangement. Under the crinkling plastic cover, the fabric looked both brand new and god-awful, velvet in a shade of avocado green that Saul figured could sell for a pretty penny to some nostalgia buff but made Saul think of grade school cafeteria walls and trays filled with mystery meat casserole.

      Saul sat on one of the just-as-ugly but probably slightly less uncomfortable side chairs and placed his mug on the table next to it. I can’t talk much, he warned softly.

      Lew... er, Mr. Rosenberg told me. Perry popped the end off his cardboard tube and pulled out several sheets of blue paper. He also sent me these. He spread the papers out on the coffee table, and Saul leaned forward to look, though he’d already figured out what they were. He had no clue how Lewis got his hands on the blueprints to Saul’s grandmother’s house—from after the attic renovation, by the looks of it—but then, Lewis seemed to know everyone and everything, so Saul wasn’t much surprised by it.

      I have photographs, too. Perry kept his voice low, as if in deference to Saul’s limited speech. I... hope it’s not too invasive. Mr. Rosenberg can be very... persuasive.

      Saul snorted. He was well aware of Lewis’s business and personal acumen. Saul shot Perry a look and held back a laugh as Perry’s cheeks went pink. Apparently Perry knew as well.

      "Professionally persuasive, Perry clarified. He cleared his throat. Mr. Rosenberg said you were looking at restoring the property for possible resale?"

      Saul nodded. I’m on the road a lot. More space than I need.

      Understood. Perry pointed at an area on the blueprints. "The main concerns for home buyers are updated kitchens and

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