Kade (The Brash Brothers #1) Read Online Jenna Myles

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Brash Brothers Series by Jenna Myles

Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)

I did CPR on my mom three times before I was nine years old.
The last time, I failed.
So maybe I have a bit of a hero complex. And more money than god. Those two things combined make me irresistible to every messed up woman in the city. Been there, done that, failed to put humpty back together again.
I’m done. No more broken, needy women for me.
Except God must have a sense of humor, because I find a woman sleeping in a broken down car in front of my garage in the middle of the night.
I should send her on her way. Except she’s a little unhinged. And sassy. And has thick, biteable thighs.
So of course, I give her a job, and a place to stay. I’ve got a problem, alright. I already told you that.
But no way is her sunshine going to draw me in. I’m done with women.
Yeah, I don’t believe it either.

So I got scammed, and ended up sleeping in my broken down car.
It’s par for the course since my dad died. Maybe I haven’t been making the smartest choices, you know, like selling everything I own to pay the medical bills and moving to the city to be a waitress.
Stupid plan, since i’ve never waitressed and am more likely to punch someone out than smile and say “yes sir.”
But the grouchy mechanic banging on my window at two in the morning turns out to be a knight in tarnished armor.
If he thinks i’ll let him pay to fix my car, he’s crazy.
I’m a badass, and I always pay my way.
Besides, he needs me way more than I need him.
He just doesn’t realize it yet.

CW: I write about characters from hard places. This book touches on addiction, loss of a parent, cancer, domestic violence. But mostly, this is a book about people learning how to get out of their own way so they can love and be loved.




“Like I told you, lady, there’s no apartment for rent here.”

The man’s brows are lowered, his tone hostile. He’s clearly frustrated with me, but I’m too freaked out to care. There are eyes on me. So many eyes. I hate that I’m putting on a show for the whole neighborhood, but I can’t just give up. It all has to be a big mistake.

I rush up the last step to the landing, coming within a foot of the man blocking my way into the building. His gray hair is standing on end, pajamas rumpled and hanging crookedly off his frame. He matches the building. It’s not the nicest building on the street, but it’s definitely not the shittiest. I lower my voice.

“Please, check again. I’m renting a room from Cassandra in Four-B. She’s expecting me tonight.” I press redial on my phone, hoping that the number I have for Cassandra will magically work. The not-in-service message plays again, and I have to choke the bile down. Keep it together, Becca.

The building manager sighs and shakes his head, a thread of pity coloring his voice. “Lady, Mrs. Cruz lives in Four-B. She’s been there thirty years. I been here twenty-three, and I know everybody in this building. There ain’t a Cassandra living here.” He winces, “You been scammed.”

Even as I shake my head in denial, I know he’s right. I’d been talking to Cassandra for the last two weeks, but yesterday I sent her my part of the security deposit and first and last months’ rent. I sent her $2700, literally everything I had. The bank service fees at the end of the month are going to overdraw my account. Of course, her phone number is disconnected now. She got what she wanted.

The manager’s voice interrupts my whirling thoughts.

“Look,” he says, his mouth twisted, “You’d better find somewhere to go quick. All that stuff in your car is a big fucking neon sign in this neighborhood.”

I can’t help but snort. Ya, a gigantic neon sign that says ‘gullible fool.’

I glance back at my ancient sedan, filled with literally everything I own. The car and all my shit together are probably worth less than the $2700 I just lost, but I can’t stomach the idea of losing anything more.

I’ve already had everything that truly mattered to me taken away, but somehow the idea of someone stealing my photo albums nearly sends me over the edge, and I have to fight back tears. I’m not a crier. Never have been, so the freaking waterworks are pissing me off. I won’t give the eyes staring at me from the windows and from the street corner the satisfaction of seeing me break. I turn back to the manager, dodging the stares from our audience.

“I don’t know where to go…I’m not from here.” My throat feels tight.

He shakes his head and rubs the stubble on his chin before opening the door to lean further out. “There’s a few not too shitty motels about twelve blocks east of here. Try there.” He steps back and mutters, “Good luck, kid,” as he shuts the door in my face, already heading back to his warm bed.