Build It Up, Baby
(2027)(The second book in the Maple Grace Monroe series)
A novel by Gwendoline Rose
The world didn’t end.
Which is honestly very rude, because I spent years preparing for the apocalypse and I had a whole system.
The bunker is built. The men are collected. The chickens are hostile, and containment remains aspirational. My five handpicked, devastatingly gorgeous, criminally competent apocalypse boyfriends are all accounted for, and nobody’s in handcuffs anymore. Well. Not involuntarily.
Now Wade is moving his farm onto the compound, which means we need a barn. To build a barn, I need a contractor.
Enter Caleb Ward. Broad shoulders. Broken nose. Callused hands. No wife, no lawsuits, and absolutely no idea I’ve already watched his house through binoculars.
He isn’t on the husband spreadsheet. He’s supposed to give me an estimate, build the barn, and go home. Then he catches me inspecting his ass, and starts conducting an inspection of his own.
Interesting.
Caleb counters me. Escalates. And when a man arrives with his own truck, his own tools, and enough structural integrity to survive my family, it would be irresponsible not to assess him for permanent installation.
This time, we’re not surviving. We’re building.
A barn. A relocated farm. A seventh place at the table.
Caleb can go home when the contract ends. Unless I get ambitious. I still have syringes.
There will be:
• Barn-raising and biscuit-related emotional breakdowns.
• Gummy bear aftercare and pool-table negotiations.
• A chicken insurgency that will never, ever end.
• Utter filth involving enough naked people to require project management. (Seriously. Do not read on public transport. Not even in a parked car. Maybe not in your own home if you have thin walls.)
Genre: Romance
Which is honestly very rude, because I spent years preparing for the apocalypse and I had a whole system.
The bunker is built. The men are collected. The chickens are hostile, and containment remains aspirational. My five handpicked, devastatingly gorgeous, criminally competent apocalypse boyfriends are all accounted for, and nobody’s in handcuffs anymore. Well. Not involuntarily.
Now Wade is moving his farm onto the compound, which means we need a barn. To build a barn, I need a contractor.
Enter Caleb Ward. Broad shoulders. Broken nose. Callused hands. No wife, no lawsuits, and absolutely no idea I’ve already watched his house through binoculars.
He isn’t on the husband spreadsheet. He’s supposed to give me an estimate, build the barn, and go home. Then he catches me inspecting his ass, and starts conducting an inspection of his own.
Interesting.
Caleb counters me. Escalates. And when a man arrives with his own truck, his own tools, and enough structural integrity to survive my family, it would be irresponsible not to assess him for permanent installation.
This time, we’re not surviving. We’re building.
A barn. A relocated farm. A seventh place at the table.
Caleb can go home when the contract ends. Unless I get ambitious. I still have syringes.
There will be:
• Barn-raising and biscuit-related emotional breakdowns.
• Gummy bear aftercare and pool-table negotiations.
• A chicken insurgency that will never, ever end.
• Utter filth involving enough naked people to require project management. (Seriously. Do not read on public transport. Not even in a parked car. Maybe not in your own home if you have thin walls.)
Genre: Romance