J is for Jason – A Surprise Baby Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 57897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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“A girl?” Carter asked. “Not wasting any time, huh?”

I laughed. “It’s not like that, exactly.”

“Not like that, exactly,” Lauren said, glancing at Carter and giggling.

“I mean, I gave her my number, but I don’t know if she’ll call,” I continued. They both laughed, and I grinned. “She said her aunt had left her a big plot of land up there but it’s a bit of a mess. A huge old, dilapidated house, a cluttered trailer, and rows of trees as far as the eye can see, except they didn’t look to be in the best shape.”

“Wait, was this right as you came into town from the north?” Carter asked, bringing me the beer and a frosty mug.

I nodded as I poured it.

“Yeah. I have the address in my GPS, but I’m pretty sure I could get there again. It was really simple. Straight up the mountain about three miles and then an exit on the right.”

“Does it look like a sign for something that isn’t there anymore?” Carter asked.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“Hot damn. I knew something was going on with that place.”

“You know it?” Lauren asked.

“I do,” Carter said. “Bunch of acres of really interesting real estate. Loads of trees, with tons of lumber-ready stuff. All kinds of it too, from what I understand. I’ve been trying to buy it since I set up shop here, but the lady who lived there turned me down every time. I heard she passed away recently, and I had no idea who owned it now. I thought I might never find out.”

“Well, I can get you in touch with the girl who owns it now,” I said.

“That would be fantastic,” Jason said. “What’s her number?”

“Oh, well, I didn’t actually get it. I gave her my number, though.”

“Ah,” he said, looking a bit deflated. “Well, if she calls, tell her what I do. If she’s in over her head out there, I might be able to help.”

“I will,” I said. “It was actually what I was thinking while I was there.”

Carter nodded and sipped his coffee while I took a deep swig of the beer. It was delicious, especially after a long day.

“Carter, do you want to show him where he will be staying? Dinner will be ready in about three minutes.”

“Sure,” he said. “Ready to see what I’ve been working on for a few months?”

“Let’s go,” I said.

Carter led me to a door in the kitchen that led down the steps into the basement. It had clearly had some work done to it. All new walls were flat and painted a light grey, and along one wall was a bunch of workout equipment. A punching bag, some weight sets, and resistance gear sat there, along with a large television on an arm that could move about.

A bathroom stood off to one side, and I could see it had a tub in it. Along the back wall, a bedroom suite had been set up. It looked like one half the room was a workout space and the other a guest room, but it was all open.

“I usually only come down here to work out, but when we bought our new bedroom stuff, I put this all down here in case people needed a place to stay when they visited,” Carter said. “I have another weight set at the office, so as long as you need it, this room is yours. Here.” He handed me a key. “This opens that back door directly down into this room and the front door upstairs. The walls are soundproof so I could work out in peace. Consider this your apartment until you find a place you like. Welcome home, cousin.”

“I cannot possibly thank you enough,” I said.

Carter pulled me in for a tight, quick bro-hug.

“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad as hell to do it for you. Now, do you need some help getting stuff off the truck?”

I grinned.

“If you don’t mind.”

9

BETH ANN

Hour four was going poorly.

I’d felt pretty good going into it. The first three hours were marked by big improvements, and the more I cleared out, the better I felt about it all. Bags and boxes of obvious junk just went directly to the bin outside, tossed in and forgotten about. I went against my better judgment, in respect to my aunt, and opened each box before I ultimately tossed it. Most of what went away were old newspapers, boxes of empty plastic bags, obvious trash.

Then I hit a snag.

Boxes of what looked like porcelain knick knacks. Some of them could be valuable, but they could also be dollar-store knockoffs. I didn’t know. I had to make a keep pile, and ever since, it had been growing with boxes of important-looking papers, unopened kitchen appliances, decorations for all different holidays, and other things that were as interesting as they were baffling.


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