Page 9 of Coach (Shady Valley Henchmen #8)

Este

“Did I miss a message?” I asked as I walked into the pool hall to find it empty save for Konstantin and Mikhail. “Are we closed today?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Konstantin said. “My brother and I are needed elsewhere. The hall will stay closed until we return. Feel free to get your work done now, without distractions, or come back when we open later. The choice is yours.”

“Oh, well, it’s better for me to work now then. My dog is getting used to her schedule.”

“As you wish,” Konstantin said, checking his watch. “The door will automatically lock behind us and you when you leave, so I don’t advise going outside until you are finished.”

“Got it. Is there anything in particular you want done?”

“With no one here, a deep clean would be advisable.”

Who said things like that?

Konstantin Novikoff, apparently.

“On it.”

With that, he and his brother gave me a nod and made their way out of the building.

Alone, I wandered around the empty pool hall, taking note of all the unusual places I hadn’t thought to clean before, then headed into the back to grab supplies.

I was a solid hour into my cleaning when I realized I probably should have brought headphones and music or an audiobook. Because with my body busy, my mind was free to wander.

Right back to that elevator.

And each time the memory flashed, the desire ratcheted up until it became distracting, hard to think past.

“Ugh,” I grumbled, finishing cleaning the place from top to bottom. I even washed the dang walls.

There was an ever-present ache between my thighs as I went back to the supply closet to grab the same ladder I’d used the day before, determined to check the one final vent.

To be safe, I stuck my phone in my pocket in case I fell, then carefully made my way up.

Without anyone to knock into it this time, I was steady as I reached up to feel the amount of airflow coming out.

I had to admit that maybe Irina was right. It did seem to be a little more of a trickle than the other vents.

I pulled out a screwdriver from my work belt to remove the screws. Then, careful not to drop it, the vent cover.

When I reached inside, I expected to feel the usual: cobwebs, dust, grime, maybe a few random pieces of paper or plastic that found their way through the system.

That wasn’t what I found, though.

“What the hell?”

My hand met a whole wall of something.

Tucking the vent cover between my thighs to have my other hand free, I reached into the vent.

To start to pull out… a stack of cash.

“Whoa,” I said, shoving it back into place, my heart tripping into overdrive.

Had my bosses stuck it there? For safekeeping? Or, possibly, as a test?

Complain about the airflow to see if I would steal a stack of cash hidden inside?

There were a lot of cameras all over the place. Someone could be watching me right that moment.

Unsure what to do, I leaned forward, looking inside, finding a dozen or more other stacks of cash. And, yeah, they were totally piled in there in such a way to alter the airflow.

“Okay. Well…” I mumbled to myself.

I shoved my hand further in, quickly rearranging the stacks so they lined only one side of the duct, allowing a whoosh of cool air to finally break free.

Two birds.

One stone.

Prove to my bosses, if they were watching, that their money was safe with me. And also allow the air to come out, so Irina didn’t get mad at me.

Satisfied, I screwed the vent back on, wiped it down with a rag, then climbed back down.

And, really, I just forgot all about it.

It was just a nothing moment in a busy week of trying to set my new life up.

There were garage sales to hit up, old wooden dressers to sand down and finish, and a big, towering clubhouse to try really hard not to think about. Or, more precisely, a very hot man inside that warehouse I was trying not to think about.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here,” a familiar voice called.

I was standing in the home improvement store two towns over (the closest one, which was one major mark against Shady Valley), trying to decide which length of nails I was going to need for my next project.

I’m not proud of how my heart swooped at the sound of his voice. It felt so juvenile, considering he was a practical stranger and he hadn’t tried to seek me out since our little elevator adventure. Even though he knew exactly where I worked.

I totally hadn’t been almost constantly disappointed by that or anything. Even if, logically, I knew there was no reason to assume a guy like Saul would be harping on such a little thing days later.

I mean, I’d been to the clubhouse. I’d seen the half-naked, very willing, women all around.

He probably didn’t even remember me.

Except, of course, he did.

“Hey.” I turned, realizing too late that my smile was probably just a smidge too wide for a casual encounter in the nail aisle. “Working on a new project?”

God, he looked good.

He was even more casual than last time in a well-worn white tee that had several dried smudges of stain and a two-inch rip up the side. It had that buttery-soft look that had me wishing I could walk into him and press my cheek to his chest. But only for the shirt. Not the gorgeous man beneath.

He still smelled like nag champa, but there was also the scent of pine clinging to him from whatever he was making.

“Dropped off the bird stand yesterday. Dove into my next project right after. Having a nail conundrum?”

“I’m building a fence,” I told him. “Trix likes to do long sniffs around the property, and it’s kinda cutting into my renovating and redecorating plans.”

“What kind of fence? Stockade?”

“Well, if I did that, I would need to have my landlord go to the city. No, right now, I’m just doing posts with black garden fencing.

Which makes it mostly see-through. And if I’m understanding the code book well enough, it means I don’t need township approval.

I got the fence.” I waved back to my cart.

“I think I’m going to need to rent a moving truck to get the posts. Which leaves me with… screws.”

“Stainless steel is gonna give you the best longevity. And you’re gonna want washers to distribute the screw’s load. Also, make it nearly impossible for Trix to push the garden fencing outward if she sees something interesting on the other side.”

“Perfect,” I said, reaching for the ones he suggested. Even if they were the more expensive option.

I had money coming in now.

I didn’t have to pinch every single penny.

“You know a lot about this.”

“I’ve built a bunch of fences. Worked at a fencing company before I went into construction.”

“Well then. How are my other supplies?” I asked, waving toward the cart again.

“Wood is good. I’d recommend staining or painting it to make it last. Where’s your cement?”

“I didn’t want to drag around hundreds of pounds of it through the store. I’ll get it on my way out.”

“Honey, tell me you don’t plan to dig the holes with this,” he said, lifting the shovel I’d picked up.

“I need to dig.”

“Two feet deep—at least—per post. Dunno how big your yard is, but trust me, you don’t want to be digging all that. You’re gonna want a post hole digger.”

“Yeah, I watched a video on those.” Where the guy said you had to be careful so you don’t end up with something broken or amputated. “They’re kinda scary.”

Saul’s gaze slid over me in a way that wasn’t sexual, just appraising. “Yeah,” he agreed. “You’d probably want more strength behind one of those. I could do it for you.”

“What? No. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Wouldn’t take me long. I could do it today, if you want. I could bring the wood and cement too. Got myself a pick-up a while back to transport all the wood for my projects.”

That would be amazing. If I were being honest, I was dreading this project, knowing how back-breaking it was going to be.

That said, even with money coming in, things were still a little tight for the time being.

“That’s a really nice offer. Right now, though, I can’t really aff—”

“I don’t want you to pay me, Este,” he cut me off. “Just consider it a welcome to town gift.”

“It’s a lot of work for that.”

“I like the work.”

“I can pay you with lunch,” I offered.

“ That I will gladly accept.”

With that, we gathered the other supplies, and I got to watch the way Saul’s muscles tensed and twisted as he hauled fifty-pound bags of cement and eight-foot fence posts into the back of his truck.

Always being the one involved with the project, I’d really never understood the appeal of watching a man work before. Staring at Saul as he did so, though, made me rethink a lifetime of never appreciating such things before.

I suddenly couldn’t wait to see him using the auger. Possibly shirtless. And sweaty.

“Este?” Saul called, making me snap out of my fantasy that was turning R-rated pretty quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Gonna need to follow you,” he told me as he slammed the bed closed.

“Oh, right. Yeah. Let me just…” I looked to the cart, but he’d even taken the boxes of screws in his truck.

“Just gonna put this back,” Saul said, reaching for the cart.

He was a cart-returner.

Could the guy get any hotter?

“God, get a grip,” I told myself as I climbed into my car and turned it over. I needed to stop thinking about things to like about Saul and start trying to figure out if I had anything in my house to make a decent meal with.

I mean, I could feed myself. It was the only way to stretch my budget. But I literally couldn’t remember the last time I cooked for someone other than myself. Or Trix. But she didn’t exactly have the most discerning of palates. I’d caught her trying to eat bunny droppings just that morning.

On top of that, the only man I’d ever cooked for was my grandfather. Even that was only the sides, because he was the master of the grill and I wasn’t let anywhere near it.

What did men eat after a hard day of work?

Meat and potatoes came to mind.

Maybe while Saul was working, I could run to the grocery store real quick to make sure the meal was worth all the manual labor he was going to be doing for me. Even if doing so was going to seriously cut down on my staring at him out the window time.