Built to Last: A Brother's Best Friend/Fake Relationship/Curvy Girl Romance, page 1
built to last
Kat Baxter
contents
Built to Last
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Thank you for reading!
Excerpt from Short-Term Shag
Good With His Hands series
About the author
built to last
A Brother's Best Friend/Fake Relationship/Curvy Girl Romance
Sadie
My nerdy co-worker is my perfect guy. Trouble is, he doesn’t “see me that way,” despite my three degrees. It’s a problem I can’t figure out. Until, everyone in my office sees me with my best friend’s brother and assumes we’re together. Turns out a little competition was just what the man of my dreams needed to sit up and take notice.
Suddenly I’m in a fake relationship with Finn, the hottest guy I’ve ever known. He’s blue collar and rough around the edges and oh, so good with his hands. He makes me notice all the ways my “perfect guy” isn’t so perfect after all. Even worse, he makes me wish this fake relationship was built to last.
Built to Last
Kat Baxter
Copyright 2023 by Kat Baxter
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.
Edited by: Emily Beierle-McKaskle
Copyeditor: BookReadingJenn
Book cover: Love The Cover
With regard to digital publication, be advised that any alteration of font size or spacing by the reader could change the author’s original format.
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chapter one
Sadie
You know that romantic comedy where the super awkward journalist goes back to high school undercover as a student to try to get a feel for today's teenager? So, in that movie, there's an iconic scene where we’re back in the original time when the heroine was actually in high school. She was smart and nerdy, but also, painfully awkward. So painfully awkward that when the hottest boy in school asked her to the dance, she said yes. Gah, my stomach is knotting just thinking about it. I mean how could she be so dense? Surely, it was obvious to her that he was only setting her up for a cruel joke.
Yet, she missed all of those warning signs. See previous comment about her being painfully awkward. She got ready and wore a dress and stood on the front porch waiting for him to come and pick her up in a limo, which he did with all his friends. Who then proceeded to stand up through the moonroof and throw eggs at her.
This is the montage playing through my mind as I’m perusing the article on my monitor.
How to Get His Attention
(at the office!)
I was doing research because I have a crush on a co-worker, and he hasn’t seemed to notice me yet. At least not in that way. Sure, we interact professionally all the time, but he seems unaware of me as a woman.
And when I say crush, I really mean that we make a whole lot of sense as a couple. We’re both scientists and both have above average intelligence, so we’d never lack for things to talk about and if we did, then surely we’d be comfortable just quietly reading in the same room.
After a failed attempt (yet again) to get his attention in the break room, I came back to my office and went to the internet for assistance. Now, I know what you’re thinking, the internet is full of crap. And yes, I’d agree with you. But it’s also full of beautiful, socially capable people who know more than I do about these sorts of things.
You see, once upon a time, I was that nerdy high school girl. Just like in that movie, a cute, popular boy asked me to a dance and just like in the movie, I was too clueless to see what was right in front of me. (In my slight defense, I hadn’t yet seen that movie.)
We were supposed to meet at the dance, which we did. Then… let's just say somehow my dress got caught in the back of my pantyhose. The entire school saw my supersized yellow spotted underpants. Even those who weren’t at the dance, because my “date” recorded the whole thing and uploaded it to the school’s server.
I tried to convince my parents to let me homeschool for the rest of the year because frankly, I wasn't learning anything there anyways, but also because, you know, teenagers in general, pretty much suck. But my parents insisted that I stay in school because social skills are just as important. Spoiler alert, they're not just as important. But to my parents, who are both public school teachers, it was a non-negotiable.
Needless to say, I’m annoyed when the first thing that grabs my attention in the article is to dress to kill. In other words, get a makeover. You know, I don’t really have anything against makeovers per se, but I do have something against changing yourself just to get the attention of a potential mate. I mean was the Neanderthal woman dressed to the nines with the latest in fur fashion? I don’t think so. Yet her mate still likely clubbed her over the head and hauled her back to his cave.
The bottom line is, if I need to transform myself into some sort of mythical sex siren, then I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life.
I mean, let’s be honest here, I have a Ph.D. in aquatic botany. That is not a sexy science. I might love it, but I’m not blind to the nature of my passion.
There’s nothing wrong with my life. I’ve got a great job at a prestigious lab, right in my home town of Corpus Christi, Texas. I’m working with a team of amazing scientists studying how kelp forests can remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, moderate ocean temperatures, and moderate ocean acidification. Basically, we’re going to use kelp forests to battle the climate crisis and save the planet. (Sounds a lot sexier now, doesn’t it?)
And in addition to having the perfect job and practically being a superhero, I have the best friends in the world. And I have a great house, complete with two adorable rescue cats. For the most part, I love my life.
But admittedly, now that I am the only one in my friend group left who remains unmarried and without kids, I do get lonely.
I’ll repeat that for those of you in the back, I am the last remaining single girl in my friend group. Because of this fact, the dynamics in said friend group have changed.
We still have our ladies’ brunch. Twice a month now instead of weekly. Though we don't always make it. Well, I always make it. But the rest of them don't always make it, between kids, ear infections, birthing classes, married date-night, etc. I just don’t have any of those things. I have my cats, so that means the occasional vet appointment, but in truth, I’ve never missed a brunch because of it.
I don’t fault my friends. I just want what they have. Sort of. Do I expect the big sweeping love they have? No. Certainly not. I am far too much of a realist to expect that a man is going to fall head over heels in love with me at this late stage. I just know that I definitely feel like something's missing.
I glance back at the article on the screen and something catches my eye.
Men want what other men want.
That’s a proven scientific fact. If you want to grab a man’s attention, you have to give him permission to find you attractive. That means you need him to see you with another man. Go ahead. Flirt and watch him turn green with envy.
I snort. Who writes this shit? I’d be willing to bet money there’s nothing proven or scientific about any of that. Um … hello random internet writer, may I please get links to the peer-reviewed articles in respected scientific journals? No?
Yeah. I didn’t think so.
Still, I have seen that particular concept work in the wild, so maybe--science or not--there’s something to it.
The brain rattling sound of an electric drill pulls me from my pondering. The noise is so out of place in my normally quiet office, it takes me a moment to identify its source, despite the fact that I’m the one who hired my friend, Finn, to build the custom shelving for my lab.
I stand to go tell Finn that he might need to wait for that particular task til when the building is less full, so as to not disturb the rest of the lab.
I walk around the plastic tarp and into the heart of the construction zone, which is actually in my office. Finn is one of my bestie, Jilly’s, older brothers.
Obviously, I’ve had an aquarium in my lab for years. Since I just got additional funding for my research, I hired Finn to build a custom aquarium that’s big enough to simulate a kelp forest in miniature.
When I reach the construction zone, I see a handful of the administrative staff lined up at the window that separates my office from the main lab area. They’re all staring inside my office, looking… thirsty. There’s no other description necessary.
I step further into the constru ction zone and what they’re staring at hits me like a ton of bricks. Okay, really it hits me—literally—like a big muscular man chest.
Finn grabs my elbows to steady me. He pushes his safety goggles up on his head, then gives me a panty-melting grin.
“Hey, Velma. You need to be careful wandering around in this construction zone, I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Velma.
He’s called me that forever. He says it’s just because the first time we met, I was wearing something that reminded him of Velma from Scooby Doo. And, of course, my glasses and bushy brown hair.
He’s still touching me when I look up at the window and see the three women and one man still eyeing Finn. I get it. I’m not blind. I know how hot Jillian’s brothers are. But I’ve also known them forever. I step away from him over to the window and tap my fingernail on it.
The admins all jump, their eyes round.
“Get back to work,” I tell them. They scurry like mice going into different tubes in a maze.
I turn back and see Finn leaning against the wall, he’s got his shirt up wiping the sweat off his face. The bared part of his torso makes me forget the alphabet, let alone how to string together words.
I can’t help but wonder what it’s like to wake up and walk around, living in a body that is that attractive. He must have to beat women off with a special stick.
He takes a hearty sip of water, the condensation on the outside of the bottle is probably less moisture than what is currently soaking my lady bits. Good grief.
That’s when it hits me. If Chet sees me with Finn, then that will surely get his attention.
So, I tilt my head and give my best friend’s brother a cheeky smile. “Hey Finn.”
chapter two
FINNEGAN
You know that teenage romance movie where everybody forgets the girl's sixteenth birthday? The romantic lead is the handsome older jock. He’s popular and nice and has a super-hot girlfriend. But there’s more than meets the eye with our hero because he’s got his eye on the quirky, awkward sophomore. He’s been biding his time, dating the cheerleader because that’s what’s expected of him.
So why am I thinking about this teenybopper movie you ask? Well, it’s because I have a lot in common with Jake Ryan—not to be confused with Jack Ryan. Or at least I did, once upon a time. Like in high school when I was a senior and I fell head over ass for the shy, awkward girl in glasses that came home with my younger sister.
There was just something about her. Long wavy brown hair with big brown eyes that looked at me with curiosity behind her glasses. Her wide mouth smile, that at the time, was covered in metal from her orthodontia. I was a senior and she was a sophomore, and it was like a lightning bolt to my heart.
My sister was technically a sophomore too, but she ended up graduating early and starting college at sixteen. Still, she and Sadie were thick as thieves. They were frequently joined by Calliope once she moved to Corpus and now they have Ally to even out their friend square.
In any case, that was the main similarity between me and the movie guy. Because he actually manned up at the end and went after the girl he wanted.
Granted, I tried. A handful of times I tried to pursue Sadie, but she always thought I was teasing her. Or just being her friend’s “nice” older brother. She is literally the only human that would accuse me of being “nice.”
So here we are now. I'm an adult. I own a construction company with my brother. Declan and I are pretty successful. We mostly do additions and refurbishing, trying not to always build new. Instead, we prefer to take something old and existing and make it new again. Make it more environmentally friendly, more economically friendly.
One thing remains the same though. I still want that nerdy friend of my sister’s. Which explains why I took this side job working in Sadie’s office to build her a specialty aquarium.
“Hey Finn,” Sadie says from a few feet away. She’s grinning at me.
“Hey, Velma.”
“I thought maybe you could use a break. I have snacks in the break room,” she says, tossing her thumb over her shoulder to indicate the direction.
I eye her carefully, trying to see what’s different about her today. She’s wearing her usual bright, funky leggings. These look like an underwater scene with coral and different kinds of tropical fish. Her solid teal shirt is long, covering her bottom and going to her mid-thighs. Not that any of that would matter since she wears an oversized white lab coat. Her brown, wavy hair is knotted in a messy bun on top of her head. Round glasses perched on her nose. Everything about her seems in place, but still, there’s something that’s different.
I just nod and follow her out of the construction area. This time of day, there are people milling about in the halls.
“Ready for the weekend?” I ask her.
She lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “I’ll just be home with the boys.”
I grin. “How are they? I don’t think I’ve seen them since they were kittens.”
The V between her brows deepens and then she smiles. “Oh right. You came over and helped install that new light fixture I wanted. They’re good.”
“Gary and Goby?” I ask.
“Close. Garibaldi and Goby.”
“Gary,” I say with a wink, because, yeah, I know the names of her cats. Just like I know that she takes her coffee with two creams and two sugars and that her favorite cake is Boston Crème Pie. I know the things that are important to her. I know the things she loves.
Am I bummed that I will never be one of those things? Yep.
But I’ve made peace with it—mostly because she doesn’t seem interested in romance with anyone.
There are already a couple of people in the break room, one of which is Tina, the front receptionist who has been after me since the day I came in to visit with Sadie about this project.
“Finn,” Tina says. She doesn’t even look over at Sadie, who I’m pretty sure runs this whole damn lab.
I nod but follow Sadie to a table. Sadie indicates that I should sit, then she moves over to the fridge.
Tina comes over, walking, her hips wiggling more than necessary.
“Hey gorgeous,” she says.
Sadie sits at the table and opens a bakery box. “Okay, so I’m sure you get these all the time since your sister is the donut genius, but every Friday I like to bring some in as a treat for everyone.” Her brown eyes meet my face, then she notices Tina leaning over the table.
“Did you need something, Tina?”
The receptionist frowns and looks at Sadie. “What?”
“Do you have a message for me?” Sadie asks.
“No,” Tina says with a shake of her head.
“Then why are you in here? Your break isn’t at this time, Tina. We can’t have no one answering the phones. It’s unacceptable,” Sadie says. Her voice is not harsh or angry, just firm. Bossy.
Now I’m firm because she just unlocked a new kink for me. Fuck. I shift in my seat to try to get my erection more room. Is there anything this woman can do to make me not want her?
Tina gets the message though and turns on her heel and flounces off.
Sadie looks back at me.
“That was sexy,” I say.
She frowns. “Yes, Tina is very popular with the guys. Especially the delivery men.”
I chuckle, “No, Velma. You. Being all bossy like that. It was hot.”
She stares at me, then looks down at the donut box. She opens it. “This Nutella, pretzel crunch is the newest creation.” She picks it up and hands it over to me.
“You have it.”
“Oh, no. I don’t eat them. I just buy them. And sometimes I sniff them.” She says the last bit quietly like she’s exposing a dirty secret.
I take the donut from her, then hold it up to her mouth. “I’ll eat it, but you have to take a bite first.”
