Evie Mitchell eBook Clean Sweep (EBOOK)
Evie Mitchell eBook Clean Sweep (EBOOK)
Evie Mitchell eBook Clean Sweep (EBOOK)
Evie Mitchell eBook NSFW Cover Clean Sweep (EBOOK)

Clean Sweep (EBOOK)

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Warning: This hilarious read involves cute babies, gorgeously helpless men, and an appreciation for a clean house that goes over oh so well. Settle in greedy reader, you might need gloves for this delicious mess.

Erik
Nappies, poop, and so many sleepless nights, I was pretty sure in some countries, this would be considered torture, and my kids could be tried for war crimes.
Yep, I was now a dad. A dad who had no clue what he was doing. A dad who somehow ended up with two kids who weren't his, but I fuc- er, I mean - gosh-darn, I loved them.
Only... I needed help. A LOT of help.
My house was a wreck, and I needed sleep.
Badly.
Enter Laura — the Queen of Clean.
She had to be an apparition caused by my sleep-deprived mind. Cause god knew she was exactly what I'd always wanted in a woman, and one glance at her curves and pretty smile had me reconsidering the need for sleep.

Laura
Being offered my own TV show was a dream come true.
As the Queen of Clean, I had an opportunity to educate people about the importance of cleanliness. Only one look at my latest project and all I could think of were dirty, sweaty, filthy things.
Erik Larsson is tempting me with sweet murmurings, beautiful babies and a helpless need for a spotless kitchen. The man knows my weaknesses... the only problem?
I'm meant to be leaving for my next assignment at the end of the month.
The Queen of Clean doesn't stick around... right?

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Erik
"Astrid," I juggled the phone on one shoulder, desperately bopping up and down as Leif screamed in my ear. "Please, I'm begging you. I have the buyer meeting me in less than thirty minutes. The nanny has bailed for the third day in a row, and Ma is in Capricorn Cove, wedding dress shopping with Ella."

My eldest brother, Gunnar, was getting married to an amazing woman. I liked Ella, loved my brother, but today? I cursed them both. This wedding was damned inconvenient timing. 

I closed my eyes as Ulf started fussing. "Please, Astrid. Please, my favorite sister. Please. I'm begging you, help."

"I'm at College," my sister told me, regret in her voice. My stomach dropped as my gaze shot to the calendar on the wall. 

"Shi – I mean, shoot." I muttered registering the date. I'd forgotten to change the month… twice. "When did you start back?" 

"Last week," she replied, and I heard laughter in the background. "Remember? I stayed with you for Spring Break." 

I blinked then sighed as Ulf joined his brother in an effort to break the sound barrier. A familiar smell floated up to me as Leif's butt bubbled under my arm. 

"Fuc- er, fudge," I muttered shifting Leif around. 

"What about Liv?" Astrid asked, referring to our sister.

"She's in Grand Harbour filming." Panic clawed up my throat. 

"Dad?" Astrid asked, sounding just as desperate. 

"With Ma."

"Rune?" She asked, referring to our youngest brother. 

Desperate times, desperate measures. 

"I'll call him." I promised, praying for help. "Sorry to bother you."

"Any time. Good luck. If you need, tell Rune that you're calling in my favor."

"Favor for what?" I asked, juggling my son onto the changing table positioned in my office. 

"Don't worry about it, just call it in."'

"Will do, thanks Sis."

"Anytime."

I hung up, dropping the phone to the side and immediately focusing on my son. "Right, let's get you cleaned up then call Uncle Rune."

I pulled his onesie free, then gagged as I opened his diaper, finding a poo-ocalypse. 

"God damn it, Leif. You're three months old. How is this possible? How?

He gurgled at me, no longer screaming now his diaper was off. This one was my nudist. Even at three months he hated clothing. I knew he'd be ripping clothes off as soon as he gained some motor function. 

I cleaned him up as best I could, attempting to keep myself as clean as possible when shit was literally getting real. 

"I'm coming Ulf," I called, hearing him fussing. I finished dressing Leif, then lifted him up and set him on my shoulder. Leif gurgled happily against me, his little legs kicking as I moved to the crib and set him down, placing him beside his brother. Ulf, not one to enjoy being left alone, immediately ceased crying. He reached out, hand finding his brother. They both kicked their legs in unison, gurgling happily for a moment as they reconnected. 

"You guys are lucky you're cute," I told my sons, rubbing an arm across my forehead. "It makes up for last night's lack of sleep." 

I blew out a breath glancing at the clock. 

"Fu- er, fudge." I muttered, reaching for my phone and dialing my brother. 

"What?" He answered in his usually gruff manner. 

"I need a favor."

"Nope."

"Rune, just listen. Astrid said to remind you that you owe her and that I'm calling it in on her behalf."

"Fuck," my brother muttered. "Fine, where are you?"

Relief loosened my shoulders. "Work. The kids are changed and will need a bottle in about twenty. Once done they'll sleep but—"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it," Rune hung up and I breathed a sigh. 

My brother was anti-social with a capital anti, but he loved his nephews. He also owned his own business, The Literary Academy, a bookstore slash café which specialized in new and used books as well as kickass coffee and meals. He'd inherited the failing store from my grandmother when she'd finally decided to retire, and within two years had turned it into a profitable venture.

Everything taken care of (for the moment) I went to the bathroom to freshen up, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. 

Fuck. 

Dark circles rimmed under blood shot eyes. My hair looked disheveled and in need of a cut, while a thick layer of unkept scruff decorated my cheeks. 

Shit. I am the living embodiment of parenthood. 

The twins were sleeping more now – thank God. But they were on alternating sleep cycles – fuck you, Satan. Which meant when one was sleeping, the other seemed determined to keep me busy. 

I pulled open the medicine cupboard, reaching for shaving cream, a shitty disposable razor, some eyedrops and a brush. 

As I cleaned up, I praised my ma for her foresight. In addition to being my receptionist and office manager, she stocked our workshop with all sorts of useful items for times exactly like today.  

Within five minutes I looked if not presentable then at least alive. 

"Good enough," I muttered, tossing the razor and stowing the other items. 

Back in my office, the kids were watching the mobile of little long ships, Vikings and Valkyries, and, for some reason, a dragon, dance and twinkle above their heads, their little legs kicking and arms flailing as they babbled happily. 

Yep, definitely my sons. 

I let them gargle away, listening with half an ear while I quickly packed a bag for Rune and mentally rehearsed my sales pitch. 

This new client was a heavy hitter with cash to spend. Wanted something sleek and expensive for his wife's birthday. I'd met Nick when he'd flown me out to London just before Christmas and my life went nuclear. The guy had heard about us opening a second shop in Capricorn Cove and was prepared to sign on the dotted line – hopefully. Turns out his wife was from there – strange considering less than six months ago I'd never even heard of the place. 

I wanted this sale. Bad. It'd be our first commission for the new workshop, and a great start to our expansion. 

At Thor's Shipbuilding we prided ourselves on our attention to detail. Our products, be it a custom wood kayak or an extravagant fifty-foot catamaran were the finest quality available. 

I had a team of twenty who worked on our projects. In addition, I had trusted contractors who I'd bring in to do custom work. This business model allowed for flexibility and financial security. If a contractor couldn't deliver to the quality I wanted, that was their issue. If the market fluctuated, I didn't have to let my core team go. 

Only, these days the core team was missing two. Gunnar was in Capricorn Cove setting up our second workshop and he'd taken our foreman, Mac, with him. I was pleased our business was expanding, god knew we had more projects on the books than we'd been able to keep up with. But the loss was hitting me hard. 

I'd trusted Mac to run the shop and keep shit going while Gunnar took care of the financials as well as working on the builds. I designed and built, but my role had shifted to handling clients over the last few years. 

Fact was, since Dad had semi-retired, Gunnar and I had grown the business. We now sold to exclusive clientele who wanted bespoke luxury. I designed and our guys built them that dream. We'd increased our reputation and built a sustainable business that allowed us to expand even while we enjoyed the finer things in life. 

Without Gunnar and Mac, much of the responsibility had fallen to me while I tried to find replacements. Yet another thing to add to my to do list, it could go right after find a new, more reliable nanny, open college funds for the boys, and pick up more formula. 

"Yo," Rune greeted as he entered my office. He stomped directly to the kids, leaning down to place a hand on Ulf's stomach. "They ready?"

I picked up their bag, handing it over with a grateful, "yep."

"Cool." My brother was six foot eight and built like a brick house. He looked like a mountain, sounded like a bear, and walked with the subtlety of a pack of stampeding buffalo. Unless he was trying to be sneaky, then the fucker was quiet as a whisper. He'd scared the fucking beejebus out of me more times than I cared to admit. 

"There's formula in the bag and-"

"We're good," Rune muttered, lifting Leif and putting him in the double pram. Ulf came next and I watched him settle my son with gentle hands as he started to fuss. "We'll catch you at home."

Shit. 

"Can't you take them to your place?" 

Rune lifted a brow, "no."

"Look, just… they've had a rough few days, and the nanny is obviously fired. Or maybe she's just run away screaming."

Can I join her? 

"Anyway, I haven't had a chance to clean anything up yet." 

Rune shrugged, pushing the pram through the door. "Later."

"Fudge," I muttered with a sigh knowing exactly how bad my house was. Disaster zone? Nope. More like hazardous waste dump. "Ma's gonna hear about this."

"Boss?" Ian poked his head around the door. "Guy in a fancy ass car just pulled up."

I straightened, reaching for my suit jacket and shrugging it on. "Thanks. I'm on it."

He flashed me a thumbs up then headed out. 

Right. If you get through this, get the orders sorted, post an ad for a new foreman shipwright, then get the boys fed, washed and in bed, you can have a beer. 

I blew out a breath, running a hand through my hair. "Let's hope this guy is worth it." 

An hour and a half later I waved the client off, a signed contract in my hand and a weight off my shoulders. Ian came over, clapping a hand on my shoulder. 

"He signed?"

"He signed." I confirmed. "Looks like you guys have a job for at least a few more months."

Ian grinned, his teeth standing out against the red of his beard. "Speaking of jobs, not to add to your load but your sister called." 

I froze, "Astrid?"

"Nah, the harpy."

I shuddered, closing my eyes. Liv. 

"Did she say what she wanted?"

He shook his head, saw dust puffing out from his hair at the movement. "She don't talk to the likes of me."

That's because she's got a crush on you.

I wasn't one for meddling and he'd figure it out, soon enough.

"Better call her then."

"Aye," he muttered, a little of his native Scot slipping free.  

I pulled my mobile free, dialing my sister. She picked up on the first ring. 

"Just listen, don't speak," Liv barked. 

I braced. Experience had taught me to expect the worst when it came to Liv. 

Please not an elopement. I don't want to have to bury your body. 

"Rune called, your house is a pig sty. That's fine. I get it. You're a single dad, co-owner of a business, you got nanny problems. Erik, I. Get. It."

I opened my mouth to speak but she cut me off. 

"But here's the deal. You can't live like that. And, I can't have my nephews living like that. So, here's what I'm gonna do for you."

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and sucking in a deep breath, knowing I was about to hate whatever came out of her mouth. 

"My new show is taking off and we've just been renewed for a second season. The test audiences love it. Love it, Erik. I have a free month come Friday. Instead of taking off to Fiji like I planned, I'm gonna pack up my girl and bring her and my team to you. We'll spend the month doing our thing and get you all sorted." 

Liv paused for effect. "You can thank me now."

I counted to three slowly before responding. "Liv, you know I love you –"

"Oh, I know."

"—but," I continued. "I'm fine. The boys are fine. We're fine. It's just been a busy week."

"Uh, no. Rune found a dead rat in their nursery." 

I shot straight, "what?"

"Check family chat."

I pulled the phone away from my ear, fingers rapidly navigating to our family group chat. Sure enough, after a bunch of responses, including one from my mother threatening to immediately come home, there was the picture. A dead rat next to Mr. Snuggles. 

I gagged, then bit out a curse. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Liv agreed. "Now, I have the solution."

"Tell me." 

"The Queen of Clean."

I frowned. "Huh?"

"It's the show I was telling you about at Christmas, remember?"

Nope.

"Vaguely," I lied. 

Liv made an annoyed sound. To be fair, Christmas day was when the twins were handed over to me – meaning everything else from that time until right this second was a bit of a blur.

"I found Laura on Instagram. She was posting a bunch of cleaning videos for her family's business. She's a fourth generation cleaner and they do everything. As in crime scenes, domestic houses, commercial, you think it, they clean it. The videos are addictive. She even made me want to clean."

Well that's a goddamned miracle.

My sister wasn't exactly known as a domestic goddess.

"So, I reached out and found this amazing personality on the other end. Bro, she's awesome. Like crazy pretty, hilarious, smart and never, not once, shames people for their cleaning practices. She just comes in and wants to help. It's like… if Mary Poppins and Tina Fey had a baby."

What?

"Uh-huh," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "So, you're gonna bring her here?"

"And get your house ship-shape. You need a hand; Laura is the person to do it."

"I don't know," I muttered, thinking of the piles of dirty onesies and my never-ending laundry basket. Not to mention the dirty dishes and bottles that took up just about every surface in the kitchen…  

"Erik, there was a rat in your house."

Shit. Time to swallow your pride man. 

"Fine, when can she start?"

"Friday," Liv confirmed. "We'll arrive Thursday morning, get sorted then start filming Friday."

That gave me just two days to clean before they arrived. 

"Oh, and you're staying at the parent's until Friday."

"I'm what?" 

"A rat, Erik. Where there's one, there may be more. The boys could get the plague. Or have their faces eaten off in their sleep. Is that what you want, Erik? A faceless child?"

I shuddered at the image, fear and shame settling in my stomach. I needed to call Rune, get my kids outta there. "I gotta go."

"Rune's at Ma's. And don't worry, I already let everyone know I'm on it."

"Thanks," I muttered, knowing Ma would still be losing her shit. 

Better add a call to ma to my to-do list. 

"See you Friday, brother of mine."

"Love you."

"Love you and the boys." She hung up, leaving me to dwell in my self-pitying anger. 

My boys deserve better. Fuck. 

My phone rang and I looked down at the caller id. 

"You're the reason I'm in this mess," I told my brother in greeting. 

"A rat?" Gunnar asked. "Seriously?" 

"I don't know how it got there," I groaned. 

"Well, it looked pretty wet, nice and freshly dead, if that's any consolation." 

"It's not."

Gunnar cleared his throat, "You know, if it's too much with the kids, and me moving here… well, Ella and I discussed it and we—"

"Stop, no." I interrupted. "Don't even go there." I ran a hand through my hair. "It's just been a rough few days. The twins had a little stomach upset, they're out of sync with their sleep cycle, the nanny is AWOL, and I was more focused on landing the Del Laurentis account than cleaning."

"Promise?"

"Swear."

There was a pause. I could feel Gunnar weighing up whether to push it. Finally, he let it go and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. 

"So," he asked. "Did we get it?"

"Dude, you doubt my ability to close a deal? Of course I got it."

He chuckled, "I should have known better."

"You wound me," I said, mockingly. "For that, baby sitting duties next time you're in town. A whole weekend."

"Fine," Gunner grumbled. I heard him suck in a breath, like he was startled. 

"You okay?" 

"Um, nothing. I… I gotta go."

I rolled my eyes. "You saw Ella."

"Yeah."

"Is she naked?"

"New swimsuit."

I sighed. “Go. Leave me to do the work of three men while you plunder and pillage."

"Thanks, owe you."

He hung up and I looked out at the water, breathing in the salt, listening to the familiar soundtrack of my workshop. 

Taking one last calming breath, I turned to the workshop, calling, "Ian? You got a minute? We need to talk rosters for this month."

The Queen of Clean better be worth it.

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Jennifer

Favorite Author!!! Her books are to die for!!! So happy need to buy them physically!

M
Michelle

Fun read, Evie Mitchell’s books are great.

M
Madeline

Cuteeeeee

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