Caretaking Love by Chloe Keto EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Chloe Keto
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.7 MB
- Price: Free
Boilers and Butches
Vic
“Ow, shit!”
A bang had surprised me, causing me to stand too quickly and smack
my head on the metal boiler cylinder.
“Sodding thing… that hurt, you bugger,” I grumbled. I felt the pull on
my short, undercut, brown hair as I scrunched it between my fingers,
rubbing the soreness in frustration. Typical bloody Monday.
I’d been lying on my back on a dusty concrete floor for half an hour
looking for a blockage in the pipework. The teacher in the classroom behind
had been complaining about a knocking noise all week. Rubbing at my head
again, I rolled my eyes. As the site manager for Sandford Secondary
Academy School I had a team who I probably should be delegating this
kind of job to. Sometimes I just wanted the personal satisfaction of being
hands-on though.
“Vic, you okay?” a voice shouted from the next room. Davey, one of my
team, was working on the other end of the pipework and he’d clearly heard
the massive clonk of head hitting metal.
“Yeah, fine Davey. I’m just knocking some sense into myself under
here.”
“Just make sure you don’t dent that pipe with your big hard skull, boss.”
Chuckling, I wiped my hands on my flannel check overshirt, thinking
that perhaps wearing it was a mistake given how hot it was getting under
here. My black vest top was tight and I sniffed under my armpit as I moved.
Urgh, so glad this is my last planned job of the day. Looking back up at the
pipe, I began to unscrew it from the far end. This straight copper pipe was
easy enough to swap out, but if it had been more complex I’d have
contacted our on-call heating engineer.
Half an hour later, I dragged myself out from under the cylinder. “All
done. Davey. You still there?”
“Yes, boss. All done now though. You want a coffee?”
“I wouldn’t say no. We got any of that cake left?”
He popped a head around the door, his mop of sandy hair shaking as he
looked me up and down, laughing. “You look like a dust monster from
some remote asteroid!”
I looked down, rolling my eyes. He probably had a point. “Seriously
Davey, you need to lay off those scifi stories.” I brushed my worn black
jeans down, chastising myself for picking a colour that made me look like
I’d fought in the dust with the boiler and it had won.
Who was I kidding? I dressed the same every day; black jeans, black
vest over a sports bra, coloured overshirt and my faithful worn, brown work
boots. I wasn’t some long-haired high-femme woman. Practicality and
comfort won out for me every time.
Walking out of the boiler house, I went to cross the playground but
stepped back as a white blur bounced across in front of my face.
“Sorry, Miss!” shouted a boy as he ran after it, his friends following
quickly. When he caught up with the ball, he chopped and passed it back in
my direction. I controlled it with my foot, chipping it up and unable to help
showing off a little as I bounced it up three times.
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