One Hot Summer-BOOK TWO: BOOK TWO

By J.P. Wales

One Hot Summer

Novella Series: Book Two

Jason White, a lonely, yet determined 32 year old gay man from Boston buys an old farmhouse in the New Hampshire countryside, desperate for a quiet new life.  And if he's lucky, like he hopes to be, maybe even find a man to share it all with.  In a small town, occupied by many quirky residents, he quickly learns that it is not as easy at it seems.  Or, could finally taking a chance on someone, and taking a chance on himself, change all of that?

 

The 'One Hot Summer' novella series explores an intense encounter with a gifted and talented building contractor, Shane Blackstone, who helps Jason bring the farmhouse, and his life, back together again, piece-by-piece, in a beautiful, sexy and sometimes carnal way.

 

Sweat, love, laugh and cry as each book of this three-part series unfolds in odd twists, unexpected desires, and characters you'll absolutely fall in love with.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: McMillan Publishing
• Release date: May 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393634379

J.P. Wales

J.P. Wales is a novelist, screenwriter and short story fiction writer of adult LGBT erotica.  Born in Pointe a la Hache, Louisiana to wildly eccentric parents with nomadic instincts, he has lived in several states around the country throughout his lifetime including, California, Oregon, Alaska, Montana, Wyoming, Texas, Illinois, Alabama, Florida and Massachusetts. J.P. currently resides in a small Vermont town on a hidden country road in a lovingly restored 1820’s farmhouse with his husband, Erik, three dogs, Buzz, Poe, and Frida, and a moody old barn cat named Mister.

Book preview

CHAPTER SIX

Tom Jackson made a face, but I understood his position.

Yeah, I’m real sorry, Jason, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to rewire most of the house in order to bring it up to code.  In fact, I’d recommend you just rewire the whole damn thing., Tom said, from behind his sunglasses, his short blond hair, a compressed mat of golden, curly coils of perspiration under his hat, which he had removed when coming inside the house and into the kitchen.

I was hoping for better news than that, man., I said, looking at him squarely. 

But, yeah, I get it.  It’s an old house., I added.

It was going to be expensive, that I knew, and I could afford it, but it was still a lot of money, code or not, wealthy or not. Expenses like this just came with buying an older home that had not been updated in years by the previous owners, and they couldn’t be avoided.  I was just anxious to move into my new home completely, but it was going to take a while to get there. 

Things in the country just took a lot longer than they would living in the city, and it was something that I’d have to adapt to, along with other basic things like, restaurants delivering food, or the nearby grocery store coming once a week and restocking my refrigerator and pantry. These services and luxuries just didn’t exist in my small New Hampshire town I now lived in, and probably never would.  This certainly wasn’t Boston.

I had moved from Boston only seven months earlier, and having made my way back and forth to settle real estate and personal matters, I was more than anxious to get moved in quickly, and begin my life here.  Plus, having just met Shane made it all the more clear to me that I’d been wasting time.  I could have had a whole new house built already, up on the hill, next to the Conway’s and the other well-to-do folks.  But the farmhouse was special.

Maybe I should have just had the place demolished and a new home built, but there was a charm about the old farmhouse, and the whole farm itself, along with the land it was on, that couldn’t be recreated.  A history, a past, rich with personality, something today’s builders and developers didn’t seem to see as a need or have a use for, favoring more modern and quicker approaches to home construction.  But I did.  I loved the nostalgic esthetic the house provided, it’s detailed and unique woodwork, staircases and moldings, it’s sharp clapboard siding, and rooms that each had a pantry, for whatever reason, I wasn’t sure.  And when it was completed, it would be the cat’s ass, as my grandfather used to say.

Electricians weren’t cheap, and to have the entire house rewired was going to make a dent in my budget. 

With my more than substantial inheritance from my family, my trust fund and the sale of my condo in Back Bay, I was more than okay where money was concerned, it wasn’t that at all.  I didn’t have to work, I’ll put it that way, but I handled a lot of my life exactly like a business, and every expense mattered, was budgeted, all expenses accounted for.  It was regimented and strict, when it came to these matters. 

I’d budgeted one hundred and twenty-thousand dollars to the house after it’s purchase, and even though I could have afforded anything I wanted in this tiny town with it’s low cost of living, I still had put myself on a budget, and stuck to it religiously when I decided to buy the old farm.  It was clear, I’d have to readjust my initial expenses.  I’d never actually done this before, but having the money to do so, yeah, it was kind of fun.  But again, like any businessman, I liked to win in the end.

Yes, I liked to win, and budgeting money and having business leverage and economic dominance was a game I had learned early on.  I got that attribute from my father, a shrewd and sometimes painfully calculated man, who liked to gamble only when he knew it was in his favor, and only if he was certain that he’d win in the long run.  There were not exceptions to this rule, not ever.

I had just come from the garden, and my body, sweaty and filthy from the dirt that I had been digging around in, needed a shower.  My lightweight sweatpants I had thrown on earlier after getting out of bed, now becoming way too hot to wear, as the sun began to rise higher in the sky above my home, and heating up the day to a scorching ninety-six degrees.

Other than the thin, lightweight sweatpants I was wearing, It suddenly occurred to me that I was pretty much naked.

I know you were, but, like you just said, that just isn’t the case with older houses like this, Jason., Tom said, removing this sunglasses, and setting them on the counter. 

I noticed his eyes go to my crotch, where my uncut cock and balls hung low and hot behind the thin fabric, the heat of the sun making everything so much more hefty, bulky and loose. 

Tom’s good looks didn’t hurt my eyes either, and I hadn’t put on underwear when I got out of bed.  Anyone with a half a brain who was looking, well,  they would know I was free-balling it this morning, and to be quite honest, I didn’t care.

Money and projects were my focus, not sex with tradesmen.  I’d been there, done that, and had inadvertently fallen into a pit of emotions already with Shane, and he was enough for me to deal with at the moment.

So, how much are we talking?, I asked, my face wincing before he even responded.

All in all, eighteen thousand, give or take., he answered, looking up at me. 

I know., he said, with a genuine smile.  If I could do it cheaper for you, Jason, I would.

Okay, well, when do you think you can get started?, I asked, hoping it would be soon. 

I wanted to get this stuff over with as quickly as possible.  Not having all of the renovations the house needed to have done to it, and all be dragged out over the rest of the summer, wouldn’t be acceptable, and if it could be avoided, I guess I’d just have to pay for that tiny luxury. 

And even more so, I wanted to hear the banging of Shane’s hammer, and the whirl of his saw’s once again.  Shane, and his loud sounds at work, had become... very important to me, and they made me smile as I worked outside in the yard. 

They made me a lot of things.

Horny was another thing it made me feel.

I’d never craved a man before like I did Shane.

I had my mind made up about him, that’s for sure, but needing to see him, and thinking about him constantly, was becoming a bit of an issue for me of late. 

I hated that fucking school boy crush feeling I got when thinking about a man, but Shane definitely made me anxious, and he definitely had me wanting more of him.  And, for me, he was more than a crush, that was for damn sure! 

Hell, I was pretty much sure I loved the guy, in fact, right from the moment I had laid eyes on him, if I truly thought about it hard enough, I knew.  He was beautiful, handsome, intriguing and he did something to my brains wiring that could never be changed or altered again.

Well, that’s the good news., Tom said, glancing at my dick print behind my thin sweatpants again, I don’t have anything lined up for the next couple of weeks, so if I can get my guy out here today to drop off some stuff, we can get to work by tomorrow morning., he answered, his eyes coming back to my face. 

"Probably even done the whole house by, say...