Title: When the Handyman Comes
Author: Lana Brazen
Genre: Erotica Romance Novella
Release Date: February 13, 2020
When Andrew Harden is on a routine repair job, things go a bit off course. The Handyman special is asked for and received, and thus begins another tale of pure pleasure.
Annette Flick needs her faucet fixed.
Referred by a friend to this handyman, sheâs heard he restores more than busted plumbing.
Iâm just curious, she says, questioning his experience in matters other than home renovation.
How is he at rebuilding the feminine spirit?
Andrew Harden has experience with broken things.
When he gets this particular call, he quickly learns itâs more than a routine repair.
To his surprise, sheâs intrigued with his past endeavors in the world of pleasure.
But how is she at restoring his faith in matters of the heart?
In a relationship that quickly turns from curiosity to compassion, emotions wreak havoc on this handyman. How could he know, heâs the one who might need fixing?
âWhen the Handyman Comesâ is a quick and steamy tale of pure pleasure.
This story follows âThe Doctor Will See Youâ but can be read as a standalone.
99c for a limited time!
Free in Kindle Unlimited
4 Heart Review by Ashley
If you want your next read to be quick and Steamy (yes, with a capital 'S'), then When the Handyman Comes should be it.
âHarden Handy,â I announce, holding out a hand to introduce myself. The woman who answers the door is built like a pinup girlâhourglass shape, pert breasts, and eyeglassesâbut the tightness of her smile gives away her age as do the stripes of gray in her hair. Iâd place her just above forty like myself.
âNice place you have,â I say, noting the open-concept layout as I follow her. Clean lines, water-tone colors, a real beach house minus the beach. Itâs Florida but not every home is on the coast. This is an older neighborhood, meaning the majority of the residents are old. Iâm talking retirees and geriatrics, but not her.
âThe issueâs in the bathroom,â she states, leading me down a hallway. Iâm not a plumber by trade. I was formerly in construction, but the market in southern Florida is either feast or famine. To make ends meet, I began working odd jobs, handyman style.
Iâm here as a favor, and I can see Iâve walked in on a messâsink cabinet open and faucet handle missing.
âI was able to shut the water off myself yesterday,â she says.
âLooks good,â I lie. It looks like she broke the faucet. As I begin assessing the damage, she leans against the doorjamb.
âYou know, I was surprised when Lana told me about you. You really are a legit handyman.â
I try not to flinch. Iâd like to say I donât know what she means, but I do. I helped a friend of mine a time or two and met Lana Blasen, her friend. Is she accusing me of something?
âIâm the real deal,â I tease, lowering for the base cabinet. My knees crack with the effort.
âSo youâre a gigolo?â
I pause, the term startling, but Iâve been called worse.
âThe sixties called. They want their word back,â I tease. Sheâs silent a second, and when I look up, I feel bad, as if I insulted her instead of her insulting me.
âI was just curious,â she says quietly, and now I feel extra bad. Slowly, I stand to my full height. Iâm taller than her by half a foot at least. Sheâs barefoot but still dressed in a tight skirt and fancy blouse.
âIt isnât called that, or maybe it still is, if I were a male hooker or a player, or whatever, but Iâm not like that.â I donât know why Iâm defending myself to this woman I donât know, even if she is a friend of Lanaâs. Maybe itâs been the most recent events. Iâd been with the same couple a few times. They called me. James warned me to take on only the most stable of married couples or recommendations from others, and this couple was on shaky ground at best.
Iâm a swinger. The third party at the table set for a threesome. But recently, Iâve been in a funk. The last scene broke me a bit, especially after the guy broke my nose. I donât blame him. No husband wants his wife to say the other guy in the bedroom is better than him.
âI didnât mean to offend you.â She pauses, reflecting on something near her feet, and then her expression changes as though sheâs changed her mind about what she would say next. âIâll be down the hall, if you need anything. My son is at his fatherâs tonight, so thereâs no rush here. Take your time.â
I watch her walk away in that hip-hugging skirt and loose blouse, open an extra button close to her cleavage. Curious, she said. Iâm curious about her, but she didnât call for the handyman special, only this plumbing disaster.
An hour later, I have things temporarily fixed, but she needs a new faucet. âIf I could show you what I did,â I suggest, interrupting her once I find her sitting at her dining room table. She nods, removing her glasses and I gaze down at them.
âGetting older sucks,â she teases. âThey say the eyesight is the first thing to go.â
âYou arenât old.â
âI wasnât fishing for a compliment,â she states, good natured but still self-deprecating.
âSo if I tell you youâre beautiful, youâll take it?â
She tilts her head as she stands to follow me to the bathroom. âIf you arenât a player, you are charming.â
Once back inside the bathroom, I explain, âYouâll need to turn the handle only this far or it will snap again. If you pick out a new faucet, I can come back and install it another day.â
She reaches for the handle to test it, and without thinking, I reach for her hand as well, covering it as we collectively twist the knob. Like a toaster dropped in a full tub, electricity ripples up my arm, the connection stronger than anything Iâve ever felt. We look at one another at the same time, and Iâm certain she felt it as well, but she draws back, resting her body on the doorjamb again.
Her eyes search mine, and I know that look. The hungry curiosity of the forbidden. âTell me how it works.â She doesnât mean the faucet.
âThis isnât why Iâm here,â I remind her.
âI know.â The sadness in her eyes squeezes at my chest.
âAnd Lana told you?â I question. Iâm not upset Lana shared with others what I did for her and James, but it also isnât friendly conversation.
âShe only mentioned the basics. No details.â
âAnd you arenât married? Boyfriend who can kick my ass?â Her eyes widen, taking in my size. Iâm six feet one, solid and stocky, or so Iâm told. Iâd hold my own in a fight. The broken nose caught me off guard. âAre you upgrading to the handyman special?â I ask.
âDoes it cost more?â
âNot a thing.â I laugh. âAnd thatâs the first difference,â I joke.
She slowly smiles. The melancholy still in her eyes and her expression anxious.
âI start with an assessment of your needs. As this is a plumbing job, we can use this as the scenario.â My voice lowers, but I wink to relax her. âIâm going to ask you some questions, and you answer with your comfort level, guiding how far we go.â
âI need you to verbally agree.â I typically have consent forms for legalese and understanding on both sides, but Iâm making an exception here. She isnât a regular at this.
âYes, Mr. Harden.â
I smile at the formality. âYou can just call me Andrew.â
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Releasing April 9
99c for a limited time!
Lana Brazen is the alter ego of a bestselling contemporary romance author who believes romance doesnât need to end just because you crossed over forty. In a fantasy life, she was an anthropologist, a journalist and a world-famous novelist on the level of F. Scott Fitzgerald. None of that has happened. Instead, sheâs written over twenty romances, mothered four children and remains with the one and only. Sometimes, she likes things a little hotter, spicier, raunchier than contemporary trysts, and so begins this chapter.