Mr. Fixer Upper Novels & Stories

Bill seemed to have heard the biggest joke as he burst into laughter, his protruding belly quivering. There was immediately a chorus of chuckles throughout the workshop. "A senior maintenance technician now working as a warehouse manager? Mr. Zigger, your joke isn't funny at all." "I'm not joking." I looked him in the eye and repeated, "I can fix it." My gaze passed over him and landed on the massive machine lying quietly in the corner. It was a Gorman DMG five-axis machining center. Its ivory-white painted exterior was covered with a thick layer of dust, like an abandoned work of art.

On the day I reunite with my ex-boyfriend, Zachary Carter, I'm in my electrician's uniform, arguing with a client. "I'm not leaving until you pay me, you pervert! You asked for an attractive woman to come over to your house, and now you're refusing to pay? Let's see what will happen when your wife gets home!" I yell. The door slams shut with a loud bang, and several bills are thrown onto the floor. As I crouch down to pick up the money, Zachary stands before me holding the keys to his Porsche. "You'd rather scam people and risk getting beaten to death than come back to me to ask for help?" he asked. Behind me, the client is still screaming at me. "You're crazy! I paid for an attractiv

I said, face stern. He chuckled softly, the sound rich and easy. “Mind if I join you? Or are you here to drink alone and curse the universe?” I shrugged. He took that as permission and moved to the stool right beside me. He signaled the bartender for another round for both of us. “I’m Damian Reyes,” he said, extending his hand. His grip was firm but not overpowering. “Real estate development. I saw the UrbanAxis news today. Congratulations.” I narrowed my eyes, eyebrows creased as I dropped the glass back onto the counter.

By the time I got to the house, all I wanted was to take a long shower and lie on the couch watching big bang theory while having my Chow Mein. When I opened the door, my first thought was I was in the wrong house. Every corner of my house is gleaming, and it looks like an interior designer had given my house a make-over. It didn't look like my house; it looked too good. I stand there dazed until I see Marcus lurking in the corner looking all nervous. When he notices I have seen him, he lowers his eyes hastily. "You hate it. oh my god, I am so sorry I will put it back together" he was turning a worrying tomato red; he looked like he was about to cry, have a panic attack, or both. "I drop my

Two small wall fans pivoted around either side of the room with a noisy rhythm. The name emblazoned in white on the front of the wood-red jumper the guy wore said 'Vaughn Binse'. Everest loured as the guy raised his head at her entrance and flashed a smile. She had had her doubt when Mrs Casss had given her the name of the plumber. 'Fix-a-Lot' sounded more like a handyman than a real plumber. Of course, she thought, as she walked up to the counter, the chances of finding a real plumber in this small town were fat.

Bitterness, regret, stupidity, and pride had killed both father and son. But as soon as Trevor Glanzer hired on for shit wages, things’d begun to change. He’d cajoled Harland into springing for new paint and spruced up the crappy siding. He’d harassed the old man into buying shingles so Trevor could put on a new roof. Trevor resealed windows, fixed the furnace and installed a new water heater. Chassie helped him restore the house and often wondered if that’s why she’d fallen for him.

I nod. "You know that I can have your ass fired in a snap of a finger, right?" He asks Ric, eyebrows raised incredibly high. "Get back to work, the lady will be all right." He hesitates and I nod at him. "It is okay. I got this." "Give me a call once you are done." I don't have his phone number but I nod anyway. "I will, thank you," I tell him and glance back as he walks out of the office. It is just me and Mr. ugly face now.

Lucas stared at the little white house. The roof was in bad shape, so it would be the first priority. And the place definitely needed a coat of paint, and some weatherproofing before the winter hit. Then there was plenty to do on the inside—some rewiring, some plumbing, and lots of cosmetic stuff. It was a fixer-upper, for sure. “It doesn’t feel real,” he said almost to himself. Mark grunted as he lowered the tailgate of their rental trailer. “It’s real. Now come help me. This stuff isn’t going to move itself.”

“And that’s Trevor, the nail technician. You can call him a beauty therapist. He’ll give you a quick manicure, pedicure, maybe a mini-facial beforehand. He’ll add polish and finishing touches that tie into the gown.” “See? That wasn’t hard without cutting me short. I said everything I needed to say,” Edward said, laughing. Everyone else laughed too.

Little signs that someone gave a damn. Kade moved with steady precision, crouched near the wall as he tightened the last bolts on her new bookshelf. His flannel sleeves were rolled up, forearms flexing as he worked, a little smudge of paint on his jaw. Aria couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, Mr. Fix-It,” she called from the open kitchen as she dug through another box, “do you charge by the hour or by the playlist?” He glanced over his shoulder, lifting a brow. “Depends. You planning to keep subjecting me to this bubblegum pop bullshit?”