Cocky Delight: A Hero Club Novel

by Maria Macdonald

  “What can I say, sometimes he brings out the worst in me,” I answer.

  “But does he ever bring out the best?” Her question is painful, because it’s something I’ve purposely not dug into. “Do you even like Lance?” Aubrey’s voice is quieter.

  “I… I don’t know. I mean, I’m trying to.” I tap my fingers nervously on the table.

  Her head drops forward and she thumps it on the table. “God, you’re a nightmare.”

  I smile, but think on her question. Lately, it’s been harder to find his redeeming qualities. The truth is, he doesn’t actually take a whole lot of notice of me. When we do see one another, it’s mainly for him to tell me about his life and because once a week he wants sex. It’s perfunctory more than anything. At this point, I wouldn’t be shocked if I found out he had a wife, kids, white picket fence, the whole shebang hidden from me and was only keeping me because it was easier than letting me go.

  “You know, he came over Sunday night. I tried to tell him about my new job. He patted my knee,” I say, glancing at Aubrey to make sure I have her complete attention, “and told me it was sweet I’d found a little hobby job, but when was I going to do something important with my life. Did I not think that at my age I should go and find a real job?”

  “What did you say?” she asks, concern washing across her face.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t.”

  “What did you do?” she questions now, her face blank. She knows me far too well.

  I shrug, “I put ginger in his stir fry.”

  Her eyes widen. “You did not! Isn’t he allergic?”

  I bite my lip, remorse sits just slightly separated from my conscience.

  “It only makes him itchy… it’s not like it will kill him,” I defend myself.

  She stands up, “Nola and her boyfriend, ladies and gentlemen.” She waves both her hands toward me as though she’s presenting me to an imaginary audience and I can’t help the giggle.

  “Well, I’m seeing him tonight, so maybe I’ll take a moment to think about what is real between us, or I might even ask him,” I tell her.

  “What you should do is watch how he actually treats you,” she answers softly.

  “You don’t think he treats me right?” My heart hurts. Not because of Lance, but because I would never intentionally let someone treat me badly, though maybe I’ve missed it. I try to think about when Lance and I have been around Aubrey or Chance. There haven’t been many times as Lance doesn’t like my friends.

  And there’s the first issue I’ve clouded over. He doesn’t like my friends. What a dick.

  “I think he treats you as expendable and never really does anything that doesn’t benefit him. I’ve never once known him to help you, either physically or verbally.”

  “Wow, tell me what you really think,” I reply, but I smirk at her.

  Aubrey grins. “I love you,” she says and her grin drops, “but I’m not sure he does.”

  Frowning at her, I reply, “Shouldn’t that upset me?” Aubrey nods but doesn’t say anything. “So why doesn’t it?”

  “Only you can answer that,” she replies.

  I try to reach for the glass salad bowl on the top shelf of my pantry. I haven’t used this one before as I have another one, but I accidentally smashed that yesterday when I was doing dishes. I’m tall at five eight, but this old pantry is the same height as the kitchen, so I have no idea why I thought it would be a good idea to put it on the top shelf. I look over my shoulder at Lance, who watches me quizzically for a moment, then seeing my obvious impediment, turns toward the table and swiftly gets his phone out to keep him busy.

  Nice.

  I think about what Aubrey said - watch how he treats you – and shake my head in disbelief.

  “So why haven’t you agreed to sell the house?” Lance questions when we’re finally sitting down to eat. He shovels fries into his mouth and I frown, taking him in. I try not to watch him while he’s eating, it’s not a pretty sight to see. I curl my lip. “What?” he asks with his mouth full, so I can see the half-chewed food.

  “You think you can talk to me when you’ve finished what’s in your mouth?” I question with a frown.

  “Oh, like you’re so perfect?” he sneers, the food still sitting in his mouth.

  My stomach turns over at the sight of it. “I never said I was perfect and I’m only asking you to keep your lips together while you’re chewing, it’s not that hard.”

  “You’re definitely not perfect,” he barks.

  Lovely.

  “One thing you do which is annoying, is insisting on talking when I’m gaming,” he snaps.

  “Are you…” I shake my head, amazed. “Are you kidding me? That’s why you don’t let me over to your place? I mean, the fact I’m even uttering that sentence after the years we’ve been together is shocking,” I state, standing up from the table and throwing my hands on my hips.

  “Oh, here you go,” he deadpans.

  “Here I… here I go? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “And now you have to bring out the cuss words.”

  I shake my head in astonishment. He hasn’t heard all the cuss words I can come up with yet.

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but personally I don’t want to see your half-eaten food, listen to you smacking your lips together, or smell the remnants of whatever you have in your mouth. You playing your game for four hours straight, after asking me to spend the day at your place, was not an experience I want to relive and it’s definitely not the same as me asking you to shut your damn mouth, so I don’t have to listen to a farmyard symphony.”

  “You’re such a bitch,” he bites out. Thankfully he has now swallowed his food and what’s even better is, he’s pushed his plate away. Obviously he’s finished eating.

  Small mercies.

  “I’m a bitch, because I asked you to wait until you had swallowed before talking to me?”

  “You’re a bitch, because you can’t word things in a nice way.”

  “I asked you to stop chewing, I didn’t say you’re shit at giving head.” My eyes widen when I realize what I’ve said.

  He stands and thumps his hand on the table. “Nice, Nola. At least you get head, when’s the last time you gave me head, huh?” He leans over the table and if looks could kill...

  “When’s the last time you trimmed down there?”

  “So, now you have a problem with me being a man and having hair?”

  “No, but you could trim, it gets up my nose,” I complain, trying to calm the situation down. I’m not sure I’m doing a great job though.

  “You’re unbelievable,” he looks at me with disgust.

  “I wish I could say the same about you.” My lips twitch but immediately I know it’s the wrong thing to say.

  “I’m so glad I never put your orgasms first,” he snarls.

  My eyes widen. “You do that shit on purpose?” I breathe out.

  “You should have found your own orgasm, like I had to with the lack of blow jobs you gave.”

  “You’re a monster,” I whisper, not sure whether to laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation or to punch him in the face for all my missed orgasms.

  “I think we’re done here.” He makes a move to leave.

  “We’re done period,” I state.

  He stops and looks me up and down, his eyes are narrowed on me and he curls his lip. “I’m due an upgrade anyway.” He pauses, it seems like he’s considering whether to say something else, but he bites his tongue and walks out.

  I heave a sigh of relief the moment he’s gone and that’s when I know I should have done that a long time ago. Maybe not the name-slinging, sex-shaming part. But we should have definitely ended this relationship – if you can call it that – a long time ago.

  Chapter Four

  NOLA

  “There has to be a system for ordering stuff somewhere,” I mumble to myself as I try to pull open the top drawer of a cabinet, which looks like it belong
s back in the seventies. The old metal drawer creaks as I try to open it, but it doesn’t budge. “Ugh, come on. Come on. Come on. Come on!” I shout.

  “Whoa, what’s flown up your ass?” Chance asks as he meanders through the front door.

  “I can’t get this stupid drawer open,” I grumble. “Maybe you should use some oil or something on it.”

  He smirks at me. “Noted,” he replies, grabbing the handle and opening the stupid drawer with ease. “Damn that was difficult,” he says with a smirk.

  “Ass,” I reply, pursing my lips.

  His eyes twinkle. “Have you taken lunch yet?” he questions, pulling the booking schedule out and flicking though it.

  “No, not yet, I have too much to do.”

  “You’re avoiding Samson’s, aren’t you?”

  I side eye him. “Nope.”

  “Yes, you are. You know you’re going to run into Lance at some point.”

  I sigh, “It’s not the running into him which is the issue, it’s the fact I can’t seem to get away from him.”

  “Has he been giving you trouble?” Chance asks, his tone more serious now as he folds his arms across his chest. The intensity rolls off him.

  It’s Wednesday of my third full week of working here and it’s been that long since I split with Lance. I still feel nothing but relief, but Lance has tried calling me, coming to my door and turning up at places I happen to be. It’s starting to freak me out a little. He never paid this much attention to me when we were together.

  I grin, “No, he’s not giving me trouble.” I shrug, “If he was, I’d just kick him in the balls.”

  “Good girl.” Chance smirks and I roll my eyes. “So, lunch?”

  I shake my head, “No, seriously I have so much to do. I don’t get why everything isn’t on the computer? What is it with all this paperwork?” I ask, holding a pile of receipts in my hand.

  “Okay, so if you ever tell Aubrey this, I will fire you,” he tells me and I arch my eyebrow. He raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, I won’t fire you, but I would deny we had this conversation.”

  I remain silent, taking a seat at my desk and dropping my paperwork onto it.

  Chance rubs his chin and smirks. “I liked Aubrey helping out around here. She has been on at me for ages to get all the paperwork put onto a computer system and I actually do have a computer system for business purposes.” He tugs on his left ear. “But she wasn’t willing to put all this,” he says, pointing toward the paperwork, “onto the computer, and I knew, the longer I left the system as it was, the longer she would stay working with me.” He shrugs, “I liked her being here.”

  I drop my head into my hands. “You want her here?” I feel bad now, knowing he wanted her here and that I have the job.

  Chance sits down next to me. “You know Aubrey left her office job for a reason, right?”

  I don’t answer but I know what he’s saying, Aubrey loves the work she does now and although she probably enjoyed spending the time with Chance, she didn’t want to be in an office environment anymore. I, on the other hand, love organizing. Not that I’d admit it to Chance.

  I look at him and see the sincerity on his face. “I know,” I agree. “Doesn’t stop the fact that this place is a shit show,” I add with a grin and he rolls his eyes.

  “You okay here for the day, including locking up?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m going to start putting this stuff onto the system,” I tell him, pointing at only the first pile of paperwork I have in front of me.

  Chance nods then heads out, disappearing as quickly as he appeared. I look around the empty office. “First things first,” I mumble, wandering over to the window. I pull the blinds up, crack the window and take five minutes to drink a coffee and watch the guys working out. It only seems fair I get to ogle the talent if I’m going to spend the next five hours sorting through paperwork.

  “If you’re not sweating, you’re not working hard enough boys!” I shout out the window to them.

  They chuckle. “Come join us, Nola,” one of them calls back.

  “Naa, it’s a better view from here,” I reply, raising my coffee cup to them and grinning before taking a sip. I’ve popped out to talk to them more than once, and in doing so have gotten to know a few of the regulars. They’re really nice guys and although we have a little flirt, there’s nothing but friendship blooming.

  “Some of us have real work to do,” I call back, eyeing Matt’s ass.

  “Are you checking me out? I feel used,” Matt, who’s there every day, shouts over with a grin plastered on his face.

  “Shhh, pretty boy,” I tease, winking at him, pleased that we always have this easy banter between us. The others all laugh and start calling him pretty boy. I grin and shut the window, ready to actually do some work. I look at the pile of paperwork, glance over to the cabinet and groan, before getting to the task of reorganizing.

  Three hours. It’s been three hours and I haven’t even finished the first lot of paperwork. Grumbling to myself, I get up and make a coffee then take a peek outside. Only two of the guys are still there and I wonder how they can afford to be at the gym all day. Surely, they must have jobs and bills? My mind wanders absently as I watch one, whose name escapes me, as he hangs from some bars then pulls himself up until his chin is over the bar. Mmm, the flex of his biceps is not to be ignored.

  The phone rings, jerking me out of my perving. I grab it, still looking out of the window and only then remember the elixir in my hand is still black.

  “Bateman Landscaping,” I answer the phone while picking up the creamer.

  “Well hello, gorgeous.”

  I jolt at Kato’s voice and the creamer drops from my hand. “Dammit Kato,” I hiss, “I’ve creamed all over the floor now.”

  A short shot of laughter blasts through the phone line and I can’t help but grin at the deep timber of his voice.

  “Well, I’ve never made it happen that quickly before, but I’ll take it. Maybe next time I can actually be in the room, then I’ll really make you explode.”

  I roll my eyes, but feel a blush creep up my neck and I’m annoyed with myself, even though he can’t see me. I cut off the shiver threatening to run down the length of my body. I will not acknowledge the way his voice sounds like sex as it slips through the phone and into my ear.

  “Kato, what can I do for you?” I ask, my voice void of emotion.

  “Well, there’s an open-ended question.”

  I scrunch my nose up, annoyance blossoming in my chest.

  Chance has three crews working for him and Kato runs one of them. Sometimes they work away, like Kato’s crew is doing at the moment, but when they come back, they’re in the office daily, getting under my feet.

  Next week is one of those weeks.

  Fantastic.

  “What is it Kato? I’m busy,” I huff out. This guy flusters me for some reason and it’s disconcerting.

  “Just wanted to tell you the Hobbs’ estate is sorted for another six months. Their gardening staff will manage the grounds until they decide they want another re-design. I’m emailing over the details of the work completed tonight and I’ll be in tomorrow with all the timesheets from my guys and receipts.”

  “Oh joy, I get to see your face tomorrow.”

  “Don’t pretend like you don’t love how I look, I know you have dreams about me.”

  “Nightmares, they’re called nightmares, Kato.”

  “You’re kidding yourself, gorgeous. I’m pretty sure I heard you screaming my name from a state away.”

  “Was it something like… Kato, leave me the hell alone!” I shout.

  “Naa,” he drawls, “it was more like, Kato put it in my-”

  I slam the phone down. My chest heaves with… exasperation? Adrenaline? Arousal? No! I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I know what it’s not. Arousal. Nope, no way. It’s not that. I catch my face in the mirror and notice my eyes are dilated and my cheeks are flush.

  �
�Ugh! Damn him!” I shout to no one, then turn toward the corner of the room and inconspicuously fan my face, like someone might catch me and work out what, or more importantly who, is causing my flush.

  The phone rings again and I jump into action. This time I don’t start with the pleasantries. “If you think you’re going to put an appendage of yours anywhere near-”

  “Um, is this Bateman Landscaping?” an elderly sounding woman asks, cutting my tirade off.

  Dammit.

  “Hey,” Aubrey calls as she wanders over to my house. I’ve literally just got home and pushed my key into the door.

  “Hey, you done for the day, too?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, it was one of those days,” she sighs.

  “Drink?” I smile.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she grouches, as I push my front door open.

  “Where’s Chance?”

  “He had to go check on one of his crews, the one Simon runs. Apparently, there’s some issue with the placement of a water feature,” she tells me with a shrug.

  I snort, “These people and the things they want. Seriously, if I’ve learnt one thing in the last few weeks, it’s that people who can afford to use Chance’s company are crazy.” I circle my finger next to my temple to emphasize my point.

  Dumping my bag on the table in the kitchen, I shrug my jacket off.

  “I’ll wait here if you want to go get changed,” Aubrey offers.

  “Yeah, let me go get something comfortable on and then we can have some gin,” I smile.

  I head to the bedroom and pull off my smart clothes, throwing on purple yoga pants and a matching tank. Then I sling on my old worn black cardigan, push my hands in the pockets and close my eyes, enjoying the comfort it gives me.

  “I’m just going to feed Blanche,” I tell Aubrey as I turn and put fresh food and water out for the cat. “Weird, she’s usually here trying to kill me if I’m late with her food,” I murmur.

  I pour us both a gin and hand one to Aubrey.

  “Let’s go sit in the front garden, that way I’ll see when Chance comes home.”