9. A Cockball is a Real Thing
9
Hadley
My brow furrows as I bend over my desk, the empty blanks in my spreadsheet mocking me as I scroll down, looking for my next reservation. I finally find a filled row…in late October. That’s five weeks away. I tighten a fist and pound it on the desk before closing the document and slamming the laptop closed.
Heaving a long sigh, I look around the foyer as despondency fills me.
I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping this place running for the last decade. But, five years ago, a busted pipe beneath the foundation cut into my savings substantially, and I feel like I’ve been playing catch up ever since.
With every little thing that goes wrong, every repair or upgrade that can’t be put off, I’m sinking a little deeper into the hole.
I’d hoped that business would pick up when the Bandits formed in Branston. Football games bring in fans, which amps up tourism and helps the economy, including small businesses like mine. And while I did see a slight uptick, most people prefer to stay in the commercial hotels in Branston. They’re closer to the stadium, and there’s so much more to do there than there is here in Sublime.
I don’t know what I’m going to do if things don’t pick up. My brain rifles through the things that need to be done around the home, my anxiety spiking with each thought. The hot water heater needs replacing. The roof only has two years, maximum, left before it needs to be replaced, less if we have a harsh, stormy winter this year. Add to that all the other less-pressing problems that need to be fixed or updated, and I’m in trouble.
I heave a long sigh. When my grandmother left me this place in her will, I was thrilled. I’ve always loved the old Victorian, but lately, it’s been the source of most of my stress.
I straighten as footsteps pound down the staircase. Running my hands through my hair to smooth it and straightening my shirt, I flip open the laptop and pretend to be absorbed in something. As Foster rounds the corner, I look up at him, shooting for a pleasantly surprised expression.
“Oh, hey. What’s up?” I ask when he stops on the other side of the desk looking a little harried.
“The toilet upstairs needs to be repaired. It won’t stop running.”
“What?” I ask, my entire body deflating as I imagine racking up all kinds of plumbing bills.
“Hey,” Foster says gently, dipping his head to peer at me through his dark lashes. “It’s not a big deal. It just needs a new ballcock valve.”
I inhale through my mouth sharply, taking some saliva along with the oxygen into my lungs. Coughing harshly, I slap a hand against my chest. When I clear the airway, I look at him with wide, watery eyes.
“A…what?”
One corner of his mouth turns up. “Ballcock valve.”
“You’re making that up,” I accuse, narrowing my eyes at him.
A deep, rumbling laugh echoes off the walls around us, making my heart feel a bit lighter.
“I promise, I’m not.”
My shoulders droop as reality slaps the humor out of the situation. Mentally rearranging some of my finances, I say, “Shit. I guess I’ll have to call a plumber.
“No need,” he says, and my faraway gaze refocuses on him. “I can fix it. I just need to make a quick run to the hardware store for the part.”
My mood instantly brightens, my frown shifting into a wide smile. “Seriously?”
Foster sucks in a quick breath and nods. “Of course.”
I move around the desk and head toward the staircase. “Let me just go up and grab some money out of my purse.”
Foster’s hand shoots out and catches my elbow. I freeze as the warmth of his fingers seeps into my skin, but he quickly releases me, shoving the hand into his pocket.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it. The part only costs about ten bucks.”
Relief fills me that it’s not expensive. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tap a toe against the hardwood floor.
“I can’t expect you to pay for the part and fix the toilet. At least let me pay for the part.”
“It’s not necessary. Really, it’s my pleasure,” he says, giving me a smile that sends shivers down my spine. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch him go, my gaze devouring the way his t-shirt hugs his muscular biceps. My mouth fills with saliva, and I swallow against the onslaught as the words “my pleasure” echo through my mind over and over again in Foster’s deep, gritty voice.
Did I imagine it, or did his dusky blue eyes darken even further as he said those words?
“You’re being ridiculous, Hadley,” I mutter to myself, then head back behind the desk to my still-open laptop.
Pulling up the search engine, I type in “ballcock” and hit enter. Sure as shit, a whole list of shopping options and installation instructions pop up on the screen. A quiet chuckle bursts out of me, and I exit the program before closing the laptop.
Moving into the living room, I plop down onto the couch. My money situation still weighs heavily on my shoulders, but I push those worries aside for the moment and focus on how good it feels to have Foster offer to help me like this.
I’ve always prided myself on being independent and self-sufficient, but damn, it feels good to have someone take care of me for once. Someone to take charge and just fix the problem so I don’t have to worry about it.
Memories of that breakfast Foster made me yesterday flash through my mind. He was so solicitous, tending my every need in an attempt to make me feel better. Is that what it’s like to have a man in your life?
I’ve been so hyper-focused on my lack of sexual experience, I’ve failed to consider all the other aspects of being in a relationship.
Not that Foster and I are in a relationship. Far from it, actually. But having him here, even as just a friend, is so different from my usual, run of the mill guests. Fuck, I could really get used to this.
But I shouldn’t. Get used to this, that is.
As soon as Foster’s house is finished, he’ll move out. I’ll be alone again, forced back into the real world where my problems are no one’s but my own. I shake my head, forcing the lonely thoughts aside as I picture Foster walking through the door again, his muscles popping and his perfect ass hugged gloriously in those tight jeans he’s wearing.
This might be temporary, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it while it lasts.