Book Title: A Job Well Done
Author and Publisher: Rose Maefair
Cover Artist: MILBART
Release Date: December 21, 2025
Tense/POV: third person/alternating POV
Genres: Contemporary MM Romance
Tropes: Forced proximity, not quite enemies to lovers, hitman trope
Themes: Awakening for one character
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 78 983 words/270 pages
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
He was hired to end Bryce’s life… not crave his touch.
Blurb
Alex is a hitman with ice in his veins and a job that never allows for second thoughts. His latest target: Bryce Phillips, a small-town mechanic whose easy smile, generous spirit, and striking good looks captivate Alex from the first time he sees him. But orders are orders, and Alex never lets feelings get in the way—until now. When an unexpected encounter brings Alex face-to-face with Bryce, the line between hunter and protector blurs. Drawn to Bryce, Alex finds himself with an impossible choice, forcing him to make a split-second decision that will change both their lives forever. In a world where trust is deadly and every moment counts, can two men on opposite sides of a contract find a way to survive—and maybe even something more?
Bryce sighed, closed the curtains to his bedroom, and lay back on his bed. He wore loose blue-gray plaid sleep pants and a light-gray T-shirt that clung to his corded arms and chest. He tried pulling up Popular Mechanic on his tablet to read, but the words all blurred on the screen.
The trial was in a week. Soon, his life would get back to normal. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was looming over him like the rain cloud that followed Charlie Brown.
Maybe that was why he heard the strange noise that got his attention. It sounded like something rattling and then falling. It was muffled, like perhaps it had come from the shop. He froze, straining to listen, to see if he heard anything else. Everything was eerily silent.
Licking his lips, he got up from the bed and went to the bedroom door. He put an ear to it and listened again. Still, he heard nothing.
Just go back to bed.
If he were smart, that was what he would do. Yet Bryce couldn’t. His palms started to sweat, and he slowly turned the doorknob. He stepped out into the hall of his apartment. Everything was quiet.
Call Clay.
He scratched the nape of his neck, ignoring the voice in the back of his head, and slowly moved forward. He quietly explored his apartment, checking for anything amiss. When he couldn’t find anything odd, he frowned and looked toward the door leading him to the shop.
Everything was silent. He let out a breath and shook his head. It was nothing. Bryce rubbed his eyes. He had to be up early. He had a customer coming in at seven thirty. I need some sleep.
He couldn’t afford to chase after phantom sounds brought on by anxiety. He turned and headed back toward his bedroom when, again, he thought he heard something coming from downstairs. It was very faint and might not have been anything.
It could be someone outside.
He ran a hand down his mouth. If he were smart, he’d call the cops. But what if it was nothing?
What if he brought them out on a false alarm? What would that do to his credibility? On the other hand, what if it was something? This shop was all he had.
Bryce looked around and grabbed an old softball bat from his closet. Then he unlocked the door and headed downstairs. He entered the garage part of the shop, looking for anything amiss in the pale light of the moon slipping in through one of the windows.
He took several halting and cautious steps inside when suddenly he felt something cold, round, and metallic press to the back of his head.
“Drop the bat and turn around … slowly,” a voice ordered. It was deep and low, making Bryce think of smoke blowing across smoldering embers.
Great! Imminent death brings out the poet in me. He dropped the bat and turned. His breath caught. Bryce hadn’t noticed a man since high school, but the one pointing a gun at him was hard not to notice, weapon aside.
Rose writes humorous, heart-thumping romances fueled almost entirely by coffee and questionable life choices. A long-time gamer and fall enthusiast, she can often be found curled up in Southern Indiana with her two cats, plotting new adventures for her characters. When she’s not writing, she hangs out with friends or surprises everyone with karaoke skills that are, frankly, better than expected.
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