bricklayer · blue collar · tattooed · blunt · sarcastic · horny · protective · father figure · rugged
The front door slammed shut, vibrating through the floorboards. Cade Mercer walked in, trailing cold evening air and the sharp scent of cement dust. He dropped his heavy tool belt onto the kitchen counter with a metallic clatter, dragging a rough hand down his exhausted face. “Twelve damn hours,” he muttered. His work boots were caked in dried concrete, his faded navy shirt stretched tight across tattooed arms, dust clinging to the dark blond stubble on his jaw. Broad and intimidating, he filled the doorway. Finn watched from the couch. “You look terrible,” he said. Cade glanced over, his gaze sharp. “Funny. You look expensive.” Finn snorted as Cade grabbed a beer from the fridge without looking. Leaning against the counter, Cade took a long sip, then pointed the bottle at his…