Chapter 5 #2
This encounter is much different than the one we had at the bar last week. I’m not a soft girl. I’m a tough girl with thick skin and stamina to fight against male attraction.
But I’m seeming to be a lost cause when it comes to Stetson Cole. Especially when he stares at me with cosmic blue eyes against his sun-drenched skin.
“Much too young for me,” he exhales, shaking his head almost in disbelief.
I reach out to lift his chin lightly. “Thirty. But let’s be honest, Botox does wonders in helping me look a lot younger than I feel.”
A chuckle erupts from his full lips. “I could be your father,” he replies, instantly making me shiver. Why does that cause excitement to rush through me? “And I’m not sure Botox could ever be responsible for your beauty. You’re effortlessly stunning, Cove. Don’t give medicine that much credit.”
And the butterflies are back. Flying high and on a mission to destroy me.
I attempt to deflect, sheltering myself from compliments.
It’s different when I can portray confidence in my own way, but entirely useless when I least expect it.
When it comes from someone I’m finding to be unlike anything I expected—in a good way.
“You should see me in the mornings. Fresh off the pillow, looking like America’s Most Wanted. Pretty scary,” I overenunciate.
He taps my nose playfully. “How about I find out for myself?”
Well, that backfired.
“Back to this again?” I ask, unable to resist because, seriously, why is he so insistent on seeing me again?
“Never left, actually.” Just when I think he’ll walk away, he leans further into my space, providing me with a high I never knew I’d crave. “I only hoped I’d be lucky enough to see you again. Not sure almost knocking you out was what I anticipated, but here we are. I won’t question it.”
The touch of someone older. Wiser. Someone who I’d bet my entire Louis Vuitton collection knows how to find a clitoris with his eyes closed.
Chills overtake my body, and Stetson doesn’t miss it. The hand that’s been grazing my thigh for minutes now makes its way to my arm, running up the length of it in a soft, fluid stroke. “I never seek out anyone, Cove. But fuck, do I want you like nothing I ever have before.”
His touch stops at my upper arm, finger slipping under the sleeve of my uniform with each upward motion. “You know nothing about me,” I draw out, fighting to hide the effect his words have on me. “I could be a horrible person with demons bigger than Dolly Parton’s boobs.”
All hail Dolly.
“Partially why I’m going insane,” he huffs, body leaning further into my space. “Besides, I’ve always been a Dolly guy.”
Of course you are.
His mouth is just a breath away. Less than three inches, and our lips would touch. I can already feel the sensation his lips would bring.
Tenderness and passion.
Possessiveness.
“Is it because you work nine to five?” I joke, homing in on that steadfast deflection. He shakes his head in laughter, and I continue, “Besides, we’re in the airport lounge. Not exactly the ideal place to get to know me,” I tell him, quickly realizing I’m no longer declining his request.
One glance at Stetson tells me he notices, too.
“We could be in the middle of a bull arena right now, and I wouldn’t know it. You fascinate me.”
“Is that so?” My interest is piqued. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. Must be a rich guy thing.”
He hums, rerouting his lips to the cusp of my ear. “You’re danger and desire wrapped in one. A lot like what I’d imagine dancing on the edge of a cliff to feel like.”
Or maybe he doesn’t care what position I put him in. He fits himself where he wants.
At one point in my life, I’d like to think warning alarms would signal me to abort this mission. But today, at the ripe age of thirty, I can’t think of a single reason not to take Stetson Cole for a test drive.
I can’t buy him. Might not even take him out of the parking lot, but I can test him for accuracy right here, then return him after.
It’s not my usual tactic, but it could be something worth exploring.
Maybe for him this is strictly desire? Attraction? Pure want on both ends. He can’t hurt me if I don’t give him my heart, right?
My body should be enough then we can go on with our lives.
“Stetson,” I whimper and his lips shift to my neck, a featherlike touch driving me mad with want as he closes in. My core throbs. I’d be foolish to ignore it.
“Tell me I can touch you, Cove. Tell me I can press my lips to yours and taste the softness of your skin.”
“You can—” The words barely leave my mouth before the ringing of my phone echoes through the confines of the lounge. Stetson pulls it from his pocket, where he was likely storing it for me after my disaster of a fall.
But the ringtone isn’t the basic one I keep for most of my contacts. It’s specifically for my mom. “That’s my mom. I’ve been waiting to hear from her,” I panic.
Stetson doesn’t ask questions, just rushes to hand me the phone, and I answer it in seconds. “Mom? Hey. Is everything okay?” I ramble, feeling horrible for being here when I should be where she is, checking on her.
I’m not thinking clearly.
“Honey, I’m so sorry to bother you. The leak is back and worse this time. I just wanted you to know I’m staying with Lottie until I can get the handyman out again to take a look.”
Despite the circumstance, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’d rather her stay with me, but Lottie is my aunt, and I know she will give Mom somewhere safe to sleep until everything is resolved.
“Jesus. I just wish this would end, Mom. I’m so sorry. I’ll stop by on my way home from work and take a look. I’m glad you’re staying with Aunt Lottie.”
“We were overdue for some girl time, right, Lot?” Mom hollers, and I hear Aunt Lottie shout. “Don’t worry about stopping by. I don’t want you exposed to any of the mold, sweetheart. Just get some sleep. You’ve been flying all day. You know how much that worries me.”
I do. Mom has nightmares all the time about my flights crashing and the phone call that would follow.
“And I love you for that. I’ll make some calls in the morning, then. I’m leaving work now, okay?”
“Okay. I love you, Cove. Beyond the stars and the moon.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Beyond the galaxies forever.”
I hang up, skeptical at seeing Stetson smiling softly. “Everything alright?”
“No, but it will be,” I whisper kindly. “I should get going.”
Gone is the moment we almost had, reality taking its rightful place.
He nods and I’m quickly reminded of the slit up the front of my skirt. “Oh, shoot.”
“Keep the jacket,” Stetson tells me, large hands stretching it across my legs to make sure I’m fully covered.
“You sure?” I ask. “I can phone a friend if I need to. Betsy would love to see me compromised like this.”
He shakes his head, insisting I keep it. “I’ve got plenty. Keep yourself covered and get home safely, okay?”
“Thanks, Stetson. Enjoy Miami.” I know there’s a possibility I might never see Stetson again, and I’m not sure if that’s what makes me do it or if it’s because he’s been so kind to me.
Without overthinking, I lean forward and press the softest kiss to his lips.
“Can’t wait to read that Forbes interview. You deserve to celebrate.”
And with that, I hop off the ledge, adjust myself with as much dignity as I have left, and walk back to reality.
Away from Stetson Cole.
“Well, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
I massage my temples, struggling to mentally prepare for the damage. “I’m guessing this bad news comes with high dollar signs?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mom’s handyman, Tom, tells me as he fills out what looks to be an invoice. An invoice with a whole lot of words on it.
Problems, if I had to guess. And numbers.
It’s been forty-eight hours since my run-in with Stetson at the Seascape airport, and ever since, all hell has broken loose. Thankfully, Mom is currently working a double at the hospital, leaving me here with Tom for an urgent inspection.
I knew rust and wind damage were normal, living in South Florida, due to the salty air. These are conditions you prepare for, residing on the coast. But it’s as if Satan himself wrote a list of all the ways he could fuck up someone’s comfort and assigned it to my mother.
“What’s the damage, Tom?” I follow him to the two rocking chairs on the front porch of Mom’s home, and he hands me the invoice.
My eyes run through the news while Tom lists off the unavoidable problems on our hands.
“Based on my home inspection report, water damage to the floors is the least of your concerns. I was able to get on the roof and locate the leakage points; however, I won’t know confidently what we’re looking at until we get a qualified roofer to pull everything off and assess it.
The hurricane last August did a number on the roof tiles, and unfortunately, they’re the most expensive to repair or replace.
That’s considering you don’t need a full roof replacement. ”
My stomach drops. I had a feeling. Hurricane Ivy did a number across the coast of Miami.
Homes were completely destroyed, and those directly along the beach were worse than others.
Thankfully, Mom’s place is about ten miles inland, a reason for us not to expect something like this to come about.
Everything has been slowly turning to shit over the last six months.
Looks like a category four hurricane is not for the weak…or the inland homes either.
“Okay,” I exhale steadily. “What else?”
There’s nothing else I can do but listen to it all. Nothing I say or do can change the damage already done, so there’s no sense in panicking. I’ll save that for when I get home…preferably in bed with a glass of wine to accompany my tears.
“Although the leaking has caused damage to the flooring, the main problem is much bigger than even I anticipated. I still don’t know the cost of this job. I’ll need a trusted structural contractor to take a look and give us a quote.”
“Structural?” I sigh, my chest growing tighter and tighter.
That sounds major.
Tom nods. “Long story short, because of the high groundwater levels after the storm, leading to sandy soil, you’re looking at some serious damage to the foundation of the home.
Now, I know your mom’s home runs off a septic tank since it was built in the early seventies.
That’s likely a key indicator. Hence, the water inside, gurgling plumbing, and sewage smell near the drain field.
Again, all things that will be further inspected. ”
I…I…this can’t be happening.
My mind is on autopilot, feeling completely devastated by this news.
Mom has modest savings, but nowhere near the cost I imagine this to be.
I don’t have this kind of money, either.
We may not know the exact number, but I’m educated enough to know it’s a fucking lot.
My mom barely gets by as is. She works overtime and lives paycheck to paycheck.
But she chooses that life because to her, not having extra spending money or savings means she gets to keep the one piece of independence she bought on her own.
Her home.
But you can’t keep a home if there is no home.
Tears fill my eyes, my mind racing with questions. “But how? How did we not know all this right away? After the storm, I mean.”
Tom shakes his head, and I know he hates to be the bearer of bad news. He’s been our go-to handyman for years, always giving us honest feedback and helping my mom out whenever he can.
I always thought he had a thing for her in secret.
“These things have a mind of their own, Ms. Davenport. Time isn’t always on our side.
Over time, soil can erode and shift, causing cracks to arise throughout the slab.
These things are not always factors we can see with our eyes.
It could have been much worse had you not found it now or sought help. ”
Worse than this? I can’t imagine that.
“Okay,” I sigh. “I understand. Do we have any updates on the mold in the bathrooms, or is that tied to the same issue?”
“The mold remediation specialist was able to come out yesterday and scope out the problem. Luckily, he found less than ten square feet of black mold occupancy, and he was able to resolve the issue. It’s been fumigated, and your mom has been informed to refrain from entering for at least seventy-two hours.
Give it time to settle without exposing her to toxins. ”
I nod. “She’s actually staying with my aunt temporarily, so that’s good. I’ll make sure she stays away, although that stubborn woman never does what she’s asked.”
Tom smirks, understanding my mom’s strong-willed nature well. “That sounds just like Camille.”
I fold the invoice in my hands and close my eyes for a moment. These are the times when it’d be really great to have a man in my life. A boyfriend. Husband. Father.
Anyone with a skill set to help. It sucks doing it alone, and I speak for my mom, too.
“So, now we just wait for the quote and see what happens?”
“Yes.” Tom nods. “Start getting your funds in order, and be prepared to start right away. And Cove?”
“Yeah?”
“You must start right away. It’s critical for your mother’s health and to prevent the damage from getting worse. She’s lucky to have you.”
What Tom doesn’t know is that it’s the other way around.
I’m the lucky one.
“Thank you, Tom. And thank you for getting here so urgently. I know how busy you are.”
He waves me off before standing and heading toward the sidewalk, exiting the porch. I’ve been here for less than fifteen minutes and keep getting a whiff of mold from where we stand outside. There’s no way Mom could ever live in these conditions.
“Always. It was nothing at all. I’ll email some loan options for you to explore and see if one might work for you and Camille. Be on the lookout for a phone call soon.”
Not likely.
“I will. I’ll tell Mom you stopped by.”
As much as I know this is the worst news possible, I know it needs to be done. But with what money? That’s the million-dollar question.
Mom has been two times the parent she ever needed to be for me, sacrificing everything she loved just to raise me on her own.
Still does even as an adult.
I will find a way to fix this for her. Even if it kills me.