The Wanderer (REDEEMING A BAD BOY #3) by Nicola Marsh EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Nicola Marsh
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.1 MB
- Price: Free
Logan shouldered open the heavy glass door to the trendy café in inner
Melbourne and froze.
He didn’t belong in this artsy-fartsy place.
Hipsters with wispy beards, rimmed spectacles, and too tight clothes
jostled for position alongside whip-smart professionals in designer suits,
studying their phones with the usual self-absorption. Garish art reminiscent
of a kindergartener’s finger painting dotted the walls, while muted jazz
added to the cacophony of chatter and the barista’s raised voice, shouting
out names for takeout double decaf soy lattes and spicy chai’s with extra
cream.
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His skin prickled with discomfort as he pushed up his rolled shirtsleeves
and stepped inside. The comforting aromas of coffee, cinnamon, and
toasted sandwiches did little to ease his wariness as he scanned the packed
tables.
He couldn’t see her.
It didn’t surprise him that Hope McWilliams would be late. She’d
sounded hoity-toity on the phone and it had nothing to do with her posh
British accent. An annoying mix of aloof and condescending, she’d insisted
he be the one to quote the renovations to her music studio and not one of his
subordinates. He could’ve blown her off. He should’ve. But his foreman had
injured his back last week, meaning Logan needed to stick around town for
another month before Rick was back on deck.
It pissed him off, being confined to this city when he’d rather be on the
road. He’d built his construction company into one of the best in Australia
and he’d done it by travelling the length and breadth of the country,
ensuring his clients were happy with his subcontractors. He trusted his team
but he’d learned through sheer hard work and determination that being the
boss didn’t entail delegation, he needed to take full responsibility for every
job too.
A woman standing in the far corner of the café caught his attention;
more precisely, her exaggerated arm wave, making her look like a seaman
waving in a fighter jet on a carrier. A quick glance over his shoulder
confirmed she must be beckoning him and he strode through the
ridiculously tiny tables towards her.
The closer he got, the more he could
see: tall, slim, blonde, pretty. But it was the goofy kaftan thingy she wore
that captured his attention most: pale pink, covered in music notes. Bizarre.
He stopped short of her table and stuck out his hand. “Logan Holmes.”
“Hope McWilliams.” She shook his hand tentatively, as if she didn’t
want to get dirty.
That irked. It had been a few years since he’d been on the tools
alongside his workers and he hated how narrow-minded people labelled
men who worked with their hands as ignorant, grubby tradies. They took
one look at steel-capped boots, shorts, and a fluorescent work vest and
immediately thought Neanderthal.
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