Rich Boy: A Royal Landlord Romance (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 5)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  I bob my head slowly, agreeing with her words as I cradle the check to my chest. “You’re right. I’ll focus on that.”

  13

  Xavier

  I’ve literally watched the video a dozen times. The instructions are simple enough.

  Step one—unscrew the front cover of the air conditioner unit.

  Step two—pop out the clogged filter.

  Step three—vacuum the dust off of the filter and wipe with a damp rag.

  Step four—pop the filter back into the air conditioner unit and screw the front cover back on.

  I’m stuck at step two. Actually, I’ve been stuck at step two for the last twenty minutes and YouTube is being no help. This air conditioner is putting up a serious challenge against my masculinity. Sadie’s taunts from the first night still ring out in my head. What? You’re not man enough to roll up your sleeves and use your hammer?

  Feisty broad.

  And how did this become about Sadie, anyway?

  She finds a way to work herself into my thoughts no matter what I do. This project was supposed to be my way of working off some of that pent-up tension that’s been simmering inside. Before it kills me.

  Carl, the facilitator of the Alcoholics Anonymous group I go to, suggested finding constructive ways of distracting ourselves from the things that trigger our cravings.

  Like an idiot, I figured that coming into Sadie’s apartment and being surrounded by her scent, her things, her feng shui was a smart idea. It’s not. Being here just makes me want her more. But what I want is irrelevant. This apartment needs repairs—Sadie gave me a whole list of them—so I need to get them done even though being here in her space is making my cock hard enough to drill through the drywall.

  For the past few days, I’ve been working here in the mornings and then running out, leaving her apartment before she gets home from work in the afternoon. But not today. Today, I’m staying. I want to see her. I want to talk to her. I want to do so much more than that…I miss her.

  I’ve got to admit that I’m not great at this Mr. Fix-It stuff, though. At the palace, I never had to deal with things like this, of course. We have a brigade of janitorial servants to handle all the maintenance work. So, as I’m crouched down here with a screwdriver, a wrench, a hammer and a host of other shit I don’t know the names of, I’ll readily admit it—I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.

  And speaking of hell, this place is as hot as Satan’s vagina. Sadie wasn’t exaggerating. She needs a functioning air conditioner. I’m not leaving here until I figure this out.

  Although the easy way out would be to call a technician and let him deal with this headache, I don’t want to hire help to take care of it. There’s something primal in me that wants to fix it myself so I can pound my chest and show that girl I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.

  I am determined to figure this out…just as long as I don’t pass out from dehydration first. Damn, I’m thirsty. I abandon my tools on the living room floor and pad into the kitchen in search of a drink and maybe even a snack. I pop open the refrigerator and there isn’t much to choose from. An empty pizza box. A moldy piece of cheese. A half-eaten tub of chocolate cake frosting. And in the cupboard, there’s ramen. Lots and lots of ramen.

  I have serious concerns about the girl’s financial state. I had Thomas issue the scholarship check to her and send it by expedited mail. He’s gotten confirmation that the letter was received but apparently Sadie hasn’t cashed the check yet. Looking into her empty fridge, I can’t tell what the hell she’s waiting for.

  Settling for a glass of tap water, I meander around the small apartment to satisfy my curiosity. The entire place is in a startling state of disrepair. I’m pissed off that Ethel let the building crumble into this condition.

  In the kitchen area, there’s a cabinet door hanging by one hinge and the window is jammed shut. Plus, there’s an annoying drip in the kitchen sink.

  When I push open the bedroom door, Sadie’s scent greets me readily. Too sweet, too delicious. Rock band posters hang crooked on the walls. The sheets dangle off the bed. The laundry heap in the corner of the room is growing steadily again.

  And books. Books and books and books. Everywhere.

  I’m shaking my head and smiling to myself as I walk out of the room because the place is so much like her. Sweet and chaotic and full of character.

  Fresh pearls of sweat pop up on my forehead and I wipe them away with my bare forearm. Going back to the air conditioner, I tinker around again with no luck. They make it look so easy in the YouTube video. Ugh!

  Frustrated, I grab the rickety, old thing and give it a good shake. And pop!—the ancient machine ejects the dirty filter without warning and a cloud of dust explodes into my face.

  Bullocks!

  Lint. In my eyes, in my nose, in my mouth.

  I cough and blink as I stumble toward the bathroom, scrubbing my eyes. Instead of leaning over the sink to rinse out my face, I strip myself bare, dropping my clothes on the scratched wooden floor just outside the bathroom door, and jump into the shower for a quick rinse-down.

  I let the cool spray rain down on me, washing off the dust and sweat that cling to my skin. My eyes scan the array of beauty products lining the edge of the tub. They all have dollar store stickers on them and I don’t like that at all. A beautiful girl like Sadie shouldn’t be putting that cheap crap on her body. She deserves the best. Maybe I should have cut her a bigger check.

  I grab the towel hanging on the wall hook and yank the door open to grab my clothes from the floor. That's when I hear the voices. Just outside of the apartment. They're arguing loudly. A man and a woman.

  Driven by curiosity, I trudge to the front door and take a glimpse out the peephole as I’m tightening the towel around my waist.

  It's Sadie.

  She's standing with her back to the door, wearing nothing but a gym bra and a scrap of neon green spandex across her curvy ass. Her chestnut hair is up in a high, messy ponytail. Sweat-damp tendrils cling to the back of her graceful neck. She’s got rollerblades on her feet, causing her to tower over the guy she’s yelling at.

  My body pulses with lust. I want to step up behind her and press my lips to the nodules of her spine and kiss each notch in turn. I want to taste her skin. I imagine it’s as salty and sweet as it looks. I want to band my arm across her waist and pull her against me, grind against her ass so she knows how hard she's making me, showing off that gorgeous frame the way she is.

  But from the way she's shouting at the wimpy-looking, shaggy-haired tosser standing across from her, something tells me she might not be in the mood.

  I zone in on their heated conversation. "Your temper is the main thing coming between me, you and our happily ever after," he tells her self-righteously, shamelessly thrusting all the blame on her.

  Clearly offended, she shifts all her weight to one side and fists a hand on her hip. The new posture accentuates the curve of her slender waist and shape of her bare thighs. "Cobi—your Oedipus complex is the main thing coming between you and anybody having a happily ever after. We could never spend five minutes together without you needing to call or text or Facetime with your mommy.” She leans close and lowers her voice to a taunting whisper. “And I’m not a sex therapist but I’m pretty sure your unresolved mommy-issues is what’s causing your premature ejaculation. You might wanna have that checked out." I slam a fist to my mouth to hold back a burst of laughter.

  The guy’s arms fly up in frustration. "Oh, come on. Are you really gonna throw that in my face? That’s really low, Sadie. Even for you.”

  “Even for me?”

  He snarls. “Yes, even for you. Three whole months we've been together! Three months! And you're gonna throw it all away over the fact that I cancelled a date so I could help my mom with her prayer group? I was serving the Lord, baby!” Where the hell did she find this loser. Goddamn, Sadie. I can’t believe she dated this guy. “I thought we were building something solid here. Thought w
e had a future." His voice cracks with emotion.

  She sighs, clearly annoyed that he’s not getting it. ”It’s not about the prayer group, Cobi. Why can’t you see that? How many times did your mom deliberately try to get in the way of our relationship? And you let her?”

  He speaks in a dismissive voice. "Stop being paranoid. Mom never tried to sabotage our relationship," he assures her. "She likes you. I swear. She just thinks you're a little—how do I say this?—abrasive. And maybe you could benefit from a bit of, y’know, tact…"

  My blood boils hearing him ask beautiful Sadie to be something other than who she is. Especially, in order to please his mother. I want to storm into that hallway, grab him by the throat and shake some sense into him.

  Sadie looks like she’s about to start throwing punches. Right then his phone rings, cutting him off, and quite possibly saving his life. He answers the call. “Oh, hey mom, how are y—"

  Pissed off and fed up, Sadie grabs the phone from his hand and ends the call.

  "Hey! Hey! Why'd you do that?" When he reaches for the phone, she flings it at him. It hits him hard in the chest and he fumbles, catching it mere inches from the ground.

  Sadie’s voice is eerily calm when she speaks. "Look, let's just cut our losses and move on from each other once and for all while this is still amicable…” I can hear the strain in her tone as she fights against the urge to do something violent. “…because it's becoming increasingly clear to me that if we don’t stay away from each other, this situation is going to end with me shredding you into confetti-sized pieces and stuffing you into your mother's mailbox then hauling ass for the U.S.-Canada border. And I don’t want to do that. I like maple syrup very much but not enough to make it a part of my daily routine…So, goodbye, Cobi. Go live your best life."

  A surge of pride rises in my chest as she spins around to leave—I love that fire in her—but the dumb arsehole slings one last insult after her. "You'll never find another guy like me," he informs her in a vicious tone.

  Through the peephole, I watch the expression drain from her face, her features twisting in pain. Fuck—he hurt her…The injured look in her eye is seared into my brain.

  But in a snap, her tough girl mask clicks into place. She pulls on her stiff upper lip and faces him to defend herself.

  That bastard probably senses her pain. He steps closer. "You'll never find another guy like me. With your tattoos and your bad manners. You were lucky I went out with you in the first place."

  My ears are ringing so bad I can hardly hear the rest of the argument. Sadie's not a helpless thing. She’s sticking up for herself. Chest up, shoulders straight, unintimidated. But there's no way I'm just gonna stand here and not do something fucking drastic to defend her honor.

  I know, I know. I should probably look away, build a fortress between us, mind my goddamned business. But there’s this niggling on the edge of my spirit, this urge to keep her close, to hold her near. There’s this stupid, persistent voice telling me that she’s not as strong as she seems. She needs somebody to stick up for her although she’d never even admit it to herself.

  Without thinking, I yank the towel from around my waist and swing the door open. I step into the hallway.

  Sadie jolts when she sees me standing there.

  N.A.K.E.D.

  …and damn proud!

  I'm hung and I know it.

  The loser in front of her gapes, jaw hanging open like a butterfly catcher. The color slides from his cheeks, leaving him ashen and pale.

  The girl’s eyes move over me, her features painted with shock when her gaze locks on the hammer between my thighs. "Wha—wha—what are you doing, Xavier?"

  Before she can ruin the whole thing, I stride casually toward her, rubbing the bath towel over my damn hair. "There you are, gorgeous. I've been waiting all morning for you to get back." I bend to press a kiss to her temple and the sweetest fragrance invades my nose. Dollar store body wash, sweat and her natural yumminess. The girl smells so damn good. Like something I want to taste.

  I make sure that stupid boy gets a good eyeful of my cock, too. I'm a man. A real man. And he's going to leave here today knowing that this man is taking good care of the woman he's so foolishly disrespecting. When I'm satisfied that he’s gotten the message, I tuck the towel low around my waist and slide an arm around Sadie's hip.

  She’s still speechless as I stretch a hand out to her ex-boyfriend and give him a rough handshake. "Are you the plumber, bloke?" I turn to Sadie. "I told you, darling girl. You don't need to hire a plumber, not when you have a real man taking care of things around here."

  I cradle the side of her face and slide my fingers into her hair. She sighs audibly when I place a chaste snog on her forehead. I like that sound a lot. I think I could get used to hearing it.

  With a beaming smile, I tell the loser, "Sorry you had to come all the way down here, mate. But I've got this handled. I'll unclog all of Sadie's pipes. Even if it takes me all night."

  I don't dignify that stupid sod with the opportunity to formulate an answer. I give him a good, heavy clap on the shoulder and swing around, taking Sadie by the wrist and dragging her into the apartment after me. Throwing a multi-million-dollar grin over my shoulder, I kick the door shut with my heel, leaving him standing there like a schoolyard bully who just got his bounty stolen from him by the jock. How you like that, sucker?!

  Sadie seems to be having a hard time processing the recent turn of events, though. She stumbles into the kitchen looking wild and disoriented, leaning against the cracked wall by the door and staring at me. Head to toe, her eyes canvass me, branding me with her searing lust. A long beat of silence passes as I lean on the opposite wall with my arms folded and wait for her to explain to me what the hell I just witnessed.

  No explanation comes.

  Abruptly, she pushes off the wall and stalks into the kitchen.

  I’m the first to speak. "So…are we gonna talk about that, darling?" I lock the front door and follow her.

  "Talk about what?" She immediately heads for the sink and makes herself busy, washing dishes and chucking them haphazardly into the dish drainer.

  I pin her with an angry glare. "About the wanker who was yelling at you while he had you cornered by the staircase."

  Her tone is dry and snarky. "That was nothing to get your feathers ruffled about, my proud peacock friend..." Without even looking at me, she throws a dismissive hand wave in my direction.

  "He was harassing you, Sadie."

  "He was harmless."

  "He sure didn't look harmless."

  She gives me a tight laugh as she shakes the droplets of water out of a coffee mug and pushes it onto the unsturdy shelf above the sink. "Again—too much peacocking, Xavier. Sometimes you've got to know how to be a duck."

  "A duck?"

  With heavy exhale, she pivots around to look at me. ”Just let the shitty water roll off your back. I learned a valuable lesson recently. You can't go dyeing your feathers purple every time something upsetting happens to you." She runs her fingers through the tips of her hair. "You'll only end up with lackluster color and split ends…literally and metaphorically."

  I just shake my head as I adjust the towel around my waist. "What is it with you women and your bird references?"

  "I really don't know what you're talking about," she grumbles under her breath.

  Okay, we're getting way off topic. The point is, I don't want that guy bothering her anymore because I won't be held accountable for my actions if I catch him hounding her in the future. “Tell him not to show up here again because if he does I'll bash his fucking nose in."

  She snorts a laugh. “So much unnecessary violence.”

  “From the girl who walks around saying things like, I’ll chop you up and put you in your mother’s mailbox.” I fight back my own chuckle. “You're going to wind up in prison making threats like that, yeah?"

  She bats her eyes coquettishly and pouts that sexy mouth. Expression full of sarcasm.
"Will you come visit me?"

  She’s trying to make a joke out of it but it’s a serious matter. Still, flirtatious words roll off my tongue. "Just to see those pretty tits in an orange jumpsuit, I will."

  Rolling her eyes, she spins back toward the sink. Now she's wiping toast crumbs from the counter with an old rag. "Are you really gonna make a big deal about this?" I know what her problem is. She’s embarrassed. It's obvious from the pink flush on her cheeks. She hates that I saw her in that position of vulnerability, that I intervened and stuck up for her.

  "Look at me, Sadie." Stubborn as ever, she just keeps wiping that damned counter. "Look. At. Me."

  She growls roughly and finally, she stops fidgeting. She turns to face me, those pretty brown eyes glinting with challenge.

  I march right up to her and now, she has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. “Yes. I am going to make a big deal about it. Because you deserve fucking respect and any guy who can't see that doesn't deserve a second of your time."

  She groans in irritation. "Look—it's great that you're a crusader for women's rights and all but I don't need hero. I don my own red cape. This damsel’s been getting herself out of distress for a very long time.” Her plump bottom lip pouts defiantly. Why is she being so damned stubborn about this? At this point, I'm even more annoyed than she is.

  I grip her by the waist and pin her to the edge of the sink, my fingertips clenching on her feminine curves. I shouldn't put my hands on her like this because she's not mine to touch. But I want her to know that I'm serious. I stare right into her eyes. “I hate seeing the way he hurt you…He was trying to break you…”

  Our bodies are so close. Hot, pulsing, needy. Her eyes are hazy. She licks her lips. And I can’t help it, my mouth is moving toward hers, on a mission to taste her, to tease her with my lips and my tongue.

  But I freeze. My subconscious reminds me of how wretched I am. It reminds me that Sadie deserves better than me. And as much as I want to lean in for this kiss, I just can’t do it.