The Job – Auctioned Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Funny, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

The Job - Auctioned

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Cara Dee

Book Information:

Family | Crime | Humor | Suspense | Standalone
With the help of their ball-busting daughter, some questionable morals, and an important job to get done, Casey and Boone will steal you away to the grit and glitz of Las Vegas in this fast-paced romance.
I’m not supposed to do this job without Boone.
We may not share genes, but it’s been us against the world since his mom took me in as a toddler. The rowdy O’Sullivan boys who raised all the hell that Vegas could handle. Not that all my memories are wild and make my heart race. After all, I realized I was in love with the bastard at some point, so there’s been plenty of pathetic yearning and jealousy too.
Even so, it’s been him and me. Brothers, partners in crime, and, for the past six years, co-parents to an amazing little girl. But that’s another story. Right now, I gotta focus on the job our cousin gave us, and I need Boone by my side.
The problem is we haven’t really been on speaking terms for four years now.
This story takes place in Cara Dee’s Camassia Cove Universe, a fictional town where all books stand on their own, unless otherwise stated, and the reader can jump in wherever they want.
Books by Author:

Cara Dee


How the fuck did we end up here?

I swallowed tightly and peered down into the crib. The little girl was too big for the crib, but it was all we had at the moment. I didn’t know what kind of bed a toddler required. I just knew it had to be bigger than the one I’d slept in as a newborn.

“She’s cute when she’s asleep,” Case murmured next to me.

Yeah, she was cute. And terrifying.

I reached down and brushed a finger over her cheek.

“I will murder you if you wake her up,” my brother stated. “It’s as if you’ve forgotten it took us four hours of her screaming to get here.”

He had a point. I took a step back and folded my arms over my chest. Well, okay, as scared shitless as I was to shoulder this responsibility, I knew it would be okay as long as we did this together, Case and me. He’d steer us right.

Then Case sneezed, and Paisley woke up with a loud cry.

“Fucking murder me,” he whispered in horror.

Casey O’Sullivan

“Ma! Ace!” I tucked my shades into the chest pocket of my shirt and walked farther into the house. “Anybody home?”

Maybe they were at the pool. Mom had gotten lucky, managing to reserve one of the little two-bedroom houses that was like twenty feet away from the community’s pool. She’d waited for two years for the area to go from development to finished, and now she could kick back on her patio and still keep an eye on Ace when she was in the water.

I eyed the couch in the living room—or more specifically, the wicker basket next to it where a certain fuckhead stashed his sheets and pillow every morning. That asshole needed to find his own place soon and stop crashing on Ma’s couch.

Hearing laughter coming from outside, I crossed the room and opened the blinds. Then I clenched my jaw at the sight of Boone. What the fuck was he doing here? He was supposed to make himself disappear when I picked up Ace. And dropped her off, for that matter.

I slid open the patio door and stepped out, and Mom looked up from her crossword puzzle.

I was surprised she didn’t have her laptop here. She was always working on her crime novel.

“You’re here! Ace is making friends.” She pointed at the pool.

“Hey, Ma.” I dipped down and kissed her cheek. “Your hair looks different. I like it.”

She didn’t demand much from us, but she absolutely loved it when we noticed changes with her. She’d dyed it this week. Fuck-ugly red shade that matched her bathing suit. In a few weeks, it would be another color.

“Thank you.” She beamed and fluffed the curls. “And you’ve met your brother, yes? Boone? Say hello.”

I straightened and composed my expression. “Fuckface.”

He rolled his eyes and reclined in his seat.

I turned to Mom again. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

We had a deal, goddammit. No matter how much our bullshit frustrated our mother, we weren’t gonna work things out, and she just had to live with that.

“He’s been sick, sugar,” she explained. “Look how pale he is.”

That was his normal fucking complexion. Dark-blond, blue-eyed, overgrown, pale man-child. He had the body of a lifeguard—and not the ripped ones on a sunny beach in California. More like one of those giant trolls who flanked pop stars. A cheeseburger in one hand, a fifty-pound dumbbell in the other.

I hated seeing his fucking face. I wanted to smash him into a bloody pulp, then throw him into the Hoover Dam. All his ugly short-sleeved shirts could follow. Nobody over the age of twelve wore short-sleeved button-downs—or under the age of sixty-five. Except for him. Always. Every day. Open like that, with a beater underneath. Man, I hated his guts.

“Maybe if he got off his ass and found a job, he’d feel better.” I didn’t wait for a response. I wasn’t here to fucking chitchat with my idiot brother. Instead, I walked over to the pool and saw my eight-year-old doing laps like a little champion. “Ace!” I recognized her clothes and Barbie towel on one of the loungers, so I picked them up and aimed for the steps.

“Hi, Dad! Is it five already?” She swam closer to the edge.

“Yes, ma’am.” I enveloped her in the towel once she got out of the water, and I squeezed her to me until she giggled and wheezed. “Did you pack your things?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she mimicked. “Lemme go say bye to Daddy. He’s not feeling well. I think he might be pregnant.”

“Why? Is he feelin’ bloated? Are his tits sore? Is his period late?”

She guffawed and stepped into her dress. “No, silly! But yesterday, he got teary-eyed at a commercial and excused himself. It happened on Tuesday too. Something about pet insurance…”

I frowned to myself as she darted over to Ma’s patio, and Ace jumped right up on Boone’s lap.