Hating the Book Boyfriend (Book Boyfriend Builders)

12. JoJo

CHAPTER 12

JoJo

" W hat the hell is that noise?" Colton calls out from his bed on the couch as he pulls a pillow over his head.

Before I made my way into the kitchen to make my morning coffee, I snuck a peek at his back while he was still asleep. The Benadryl and damp towels I laid on last night before bed seemed to do the trick. Only a few splotchy patches are left, but they look like they are fading away. With another dose of medicine, they will probably be gone. It's why I was unconcerned about making too much noise and waking him. My sympathy is gone. He's no longer in pain, and I'm annoyed. He says he doesn't play games, but that's exactly how it feels. I'm just waiting for him to poke fun at my expense with all this touchy-feely shit he's been dishing out. And the eye contact… I think I've shared more stolen glances and direct eye contact with him than with men I've actually dated. What I don't understand is why he's doing it. We're adults. He's in his thirties, for crying out loud. The days of fucking around for the hell of it should be way out of his system. Plus, there's my brother. I know he wouldn't risk losing his friendship with Archer for a one-night stand with me.

"Hello… Are you going to answer me? What's with all the noise?"

His voice startles me the second time as it's now right behind me. "Oh my god." I throw my hand over my heart.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says, his hand resting on the countertop beside me. "So what are you making?"

"Isn't it obvious…" I gesture to the beans and grinder in front of me. "Coffee."

He picks up the bag of beans. "These are from St. Louis. Why do you have beans from St. Louis?"

I roll my shoulder and slightly turn my chin toward him. "Um, do you mind? A little space would be nice."

"I think I can accommodate that request…" His shoulder bumps mine. "If you make me a cup."

"Fine," I sigh. I'm running on fumes as it is, and I don't have the energy to argue with him. I laid awake, unable to fall asleep after the time we spent together in the bathroom. The man beside me is different from the one I knew growing up, and I don't know what to do with it. My mind says nothing. He wanted to kiss you but couldn't tell you what would happen next. That's a red flag, but I'm also a sucker for a fucking red flag. "You're not moving," I remind him when he doesn't back away.

"I changed my mind. I like standing here." He's not touching me, but he's standing close enough that I can feel his body heat, which is almost just as bad. It's intoxicating. The house is full of drafts with the kitchen remodel underway, and I'm so mixed up emotionally that I don't know what I want more: to lean into him or yell at him to step away again. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," easily rolls off my tongue as I struggle to continue the task at hand of putting the freshly ground coffee into the French press.

"The good kind of uncomfortable?" he questions, bringing his other arm around me to rest on the countertop, effectively caging me in but still not touching me.

My body starts to buzz. I like him being this close way more than I should. He couldn't give me answers last night, and nothing has changed between now and then. "It doesn't matter," I say, trying to sound unaffected by his antics.

"You're wrong," he leans in a little closer. "Yes means you don't want me to step away." I slightly turn my head towards his voice, and when I do, it sounds in my other ear as his front lightly skims my back, and he adds, "Yes means I linger a little longer. Yes means we stay like this." When I don't pull away or refute his claims, he leans in fully, his body now flush against mine, making every hair on my body stand at attention as the electricity between us consumes me. But before I can make heads or tails of any of it, reality does it for me.

"JoJo, are you up?" Boots quickly descend the open spindle staircase between the kitchen and the living room, making Colton jolt back. Coward. I pour the hot water into my press as my brother appears. "Oh hey, you're both up. I need to head down to the area where we cut down trees for the Friendsgiving decor the other day. I'm going to take some soil samples, check the draining, and see if I can't cycle some hops into that section next spring."

"More hops? I know the private label has been doing well, but well enough to support another crop over trees?"

"It's doing really well, JoJo. I'll send this quarter's reports tonight, and we can decide together. Either way, I need to see if that field is even a viable option." His eyes briefly flick between Colton and me, and I can't tell what I see there. It could be suspicion, but it might just be my guilty conscience making mountains out of molehills, knowing what he may have seen had he not been wearing his farm boots, but socks instead. "What do you say, Callahan? Want to help me take some samples? That section butts up to your property." My brother shrugs. "The tests are likely representative of your soil as well."

Why would an East Coast lawyer care about the chemical compounds of his soil? I slowly press the plunger of my press down and store my brother's comments away for another time. My brain needs coffee.

"Yeah, I'll come with you as long as I don't have to carry any trees. The sap on those Douglas Fir trees we chopped down gave me a rash."

My phone starts ringing in my pocket. Ringing, not chiming from a text. I pull it out and see it's a FaceTime call from Libby. Shit. This must be important if she's FaceTiming the group. I can't miss the call, and I don't need Archer and Colton prying.

"You can have this one," I say as I push the French press toward Colton. "I need to take this," I rush out of the kitchen without another word.

I’m pulling on my boots to walk out to the barn and I attempt to hide my smirk as I listen to Ava try to figure out how to work FaceTime. She’s smarter than people give her credit for, but the little things trip her up. It’s endearing and one of the many reasons I love her. Snowball starts barking as I walk out across the field, and I miss the question that’s asked. I pet his head and he calms down as he walks beside me, and Libby says, "I'll go. As you know from my texts, I'm actually working with two BBB clients right now. The first is Gina, the woman that's one half of a lesbian couple.”

"I've been curious about that. How's it working out?" I ask, intrigued.

"Really well, actually. I think most people want the same basic things from a relationship, no matter their gender or sexual orientation. The lady is really sweet and very in love with Lauren, but Gina had a hard home life growing up. She didn't receive much affection as a kid, and now she's not sure how to show affection to her partner."

"That's sad," Ava says, finally figuring out how to work the call.

"It is, and Lauren's love language is physical touch. I'm trying to be cautious because I don't want Gina to do anything she's uncomfortable with, so I told her to take it slowly. I gave her a few assignments for the week, things she said were within her comfort level, and she was eager to try."

"Sounds like you're doing everything right," I say. "What about your other client?"

"I'm struggling with this one," Libby sighs.

"Asshat?" Gemma asks.

"No. Actually, it's Riggs Romero." We all stay silent as the name sinks in.

"Riggs fucking Romero?" We all erupt at once, bombarding her with catcalls.

"Yep, totally banging him like a screen door in a hurricane," Gemma taunts.

"Stop it! I'm not going to bang him," Libby insists, and we all raise our eyebrows. "Seriously, I'm not. His girlfriend signed him up. Plus, it would be totally unprofessional," she defends.

"She's right," Gemma says with a firm nod. "Libby wouldn't sleep with a taken man."

"She'd think about it," I say, and they all grin knowingly. As I pull open the barn door and walk back to the kitchenette, Libby has us all thoroughly entertained, telling us about her first meeting with Riggs. He took her deep sea fishing, and she hooked his pants and dropped to her knees to examine his ass. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

"That's fucking hysterical, Libs," Gemma wheezes. "Can I use that in my next boo?—"

"No," Libby cuts her off. "I'm totally using it. My humiliation, my story." Libby and Gemma continue their banter as I search for coffee. Any will do. Hell, I'd drink instant, I'm so desperate. I open three cabinets before I find an old coffee pot, Folgers, and filters. This must be Dad's stash. Libby asks Ava how things are going with her first client.

"I'm actually doing more of a classroom setting. I have three men, and two of them are so sweet and genuinely want my help. The third…"

Her eyes roll to the top of her head, and I ask, "What's wrong with the third guy?"

"He's like Zach, 2.0. He doesn't seem to take the BBB or anything else seriously." Zach is Ava's ex, and things didn't exactly end on a good note between them. Hearing stories like hers makes me feel slightly better about not having had a steady boyfriend in years.

"Just cut him loose and tell him maybe this program isn't for him," Gemma suggests.

"I did, but then he came back. And now it's like a battle of wills. I'm not backing down until he does. Maverick McKinney has met his match as far as stubbornness goes." She jabs a finger against her desk, clearly perturbed. This guy has definitely gotten under her skin. I haven't decided whether it has the "in a good way" potential. We're all suckers deep down for the men that piss us off. It's a challenge, and we have this twisted desire to conquer it.

"What about you, JoJo?" Gemma asks as I scoop grounds into the filter basket.

"I met with Jacob last week. It was a quick coffee to discuss what he was looking for, and how, or if I could help. About an hour after the meeting, he confirmed he did want my help. I'm meeting with him again this afternoon. We will cover some do's and don'ts when attempting to court a woman. I'm hosting a Friendsgiving at the farm and inviting the girl he's had his eye on for a while now, so fingers crossed he doesn't get trigger shy."

"What about Colton, the guy you got snowed in with?" Libby asks, and I can't help but have mixed feelings, especially after last night and his show in the kitchen moments ago.

"Oh, you mean Boston's most eligible bachelor?" I mock. Right now, that title feels more than fitting. He's a wanted man who knows, with a bit of charm, that he can pull any girl he wants. It's that title that has me questioning whether anything between us is genuinely real.

"Yes, isn't he your brother's best friend?" Gemma asks. "Sounds like a romance book waiting to happen."

They all laugh, but not me. "I'm not taking him on as a client," I remind them, "but admittedly he is different. He's a walking red flag, and while that happens to be exactly my type, his brand of asshole wouldn't be good for business."

Luckily, they don't linger on the topic. I've already lost enough hours thinking about Colton Callahan. I'd rather get lost in someone else's drama for a little while. It has a way of making me feel better about my own.

"What about you, Gemma? Your client is the funny plumber, right?" Ava asks.

"Yes." Gemma's face scrunches into a grimace. "He's the hottest plumber… I've ever seen, but I know he's hiding something."

While I search for a mug and settle for a plastic cup for my coffee, Gemma explains how she wishes he'd be more transparent. Don't we all? For some reason, men really have a hard time with this. "A lot of men have trouble opening up and making themselves vulnerable," I say.

I think it's rooted in the belief that having feelings makes people weak. Whatever the case, this is why we started the BBB: to help men figure out the disconnect between them and their respective love interests. I've had my reservations about this crazy business venture we all dreamed up, but listening to all of our stories has put a renewed sense of purpose in my sails. Everyone wants a happy ever after; if I can help make that happen, why wouldn't I?

As we all catch up, I stare out the barn window and take my first sip of coffee. That's when I see Colton and Archie walking through the trees down to the lower fields. I meant it when I said I wouldn't take Colton Callahan on as a client. But just like this, black store-brand coffee isn't my favorite. It still warms my insides and satisfies my cravings. I shouldn't be so quick to write off the man. His soul might be black, but so is my coffee, and I can't live without it.