Taming Blade (Kings Reapers MC Book 5), Nicola Jane [books for 7th graders TXT] 📗

and I place the flowers on the kitchen worktop. “Sara,” I shout. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be right down. I just got out the shower.”

I jump with fright when Travis appears from the living room. He stares at Blade for a few seconds, then holds his hand out. They shake. “Blade,” Travis says, and Blade narrows his eyes. He clearly doesn’t know Travis, but he seems to recognise Blade. “I work under Shane Mercy.”

Recognition shows in Blade’s eyes and he nods. “Right.”

Travis turns to me. “Babe, I came to explain.”

I scoff. “Explain what? That you’ve lied for the past year?”

“You knew we weren’t exclusive. More flowers?” he asks, suddenly noticing the bunch. “And where were you all night?”

“Please leave. I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I snap.

Travis eyes Blade again. “She was with you?”

“You heard the lady. She asked you to leave,” says Blade, firmly.

“Yeah, she gets like this sometimes. She don’t mean it,” says Travis. “Are you two together?”

“Christ, just leave,” I yell. “How dare you come here demanding to know where I’ve been? Where were you? With your wife and kid?” I screech.

Blade steps forward, towards Travis, who takes a wary step back. “I’m being patient, given that you run for Mercy, but don’t push your luck,” he warns.

Travis huffs and heads for the door. “She ain’t my wife, Tils. Look, I’ll call you later to talk,” he says to me, but I ignore him. I won’t be answering his calls ever again.

“Leave your key,” I snap. He sighs and chucks my spare house key on the worktop before stomping out, slamming the door closed behind him.

Blade moves close to me. “I gotta shoot. Be careful, Sunshine. I don’t like this secret admirer business.” He takes my phone and puts in his number. “Any problems, call me.”

He places a chaste kiss on my cheek and leaves.

I let out a breath and take a seat. The flowers are gorgeous and their scent fills the room. I can’t help but wish they were from Blade. The guy’s really starting to grow on me.

“You dirty stop out,” says Sara as she enters the kitchen, rubbing her wet hair with a towel. “Did you and Blade?”

“God, no,” I say. “He’s only after one thing and I’m sick of being used. You and Lake, on the other hand . . .”

“That’s done,” she says glumly. “He made it perfectly clear he wasn’t looking for anything. He practically kicked me out at three in the morning,” she adds.

“Oh sweety,” I mutter, rubbing her arm. “Sorry. I know you liked him.”

“Oh please, I’m over it. I was the second I got the cab home.” She waves her hand in the air, dismissing my concerns. She puts on a hard front, but I know she’s hurt. She tangles herself around a guy, hoping he’ll be her happy ever after, and when he isn’t, she puts her walls up and pretends she’s okay.

“My secret admirer’s been at it again,” I say, pointing to the bouquet. “Blade freaked me out by pointing out that this guy knows where I live. Should I be worried?”

Sara shrugs. “Maybe. It’s a little weird, but it’s also cute as fuck and sweet. We’ve been searching for a man who treats us well. Maybe this is your guy? Can we watch movies all day and eat ice cream?”

I laugh and nod. “Sounds like heaven.”

Monday arrives, and when I open up the shop, I find a note on the mat. It’s a mobile phone number. No name, no message, just a number. “Maybe it’s your secret admirer,” says Sara, snatching the note. “Let me call it.” I shrug. She’s braver than me. I set about opening the shop shutters while she dials the number using the shop phone. After a minute, she hangs up. “No answer,” she says.

“I’m starting to feel really weird about all this,” I say, frowning. “Flowers, notes—how does this guy even know me or where I live and work? Life isn’t a love novel, and this feels like a situation right out of a romance book. Should I start returning the flowers if he keeps sending them?”

“Christ, Tils, he might be hot, the man of your dreams. Give him a chance to come out of hiding. Besides, it might be someone you know. That would explain how he knows about you.” She takes a seat behind the counter. “It could be shrivelled-up Jim from the corner shop,” she teases, and I screw up my face in disgust. Jim’s probably as old as my grandmother. He scowls naturally because his face is shrivelled, hence his nickname.

“Is it stupid that I really wanted them to be from Blade?”

“It’s not stupid, and at least you didn’t want them to be from Travis,” she says.

Mr. Benson shuffles in and Sara greets him warmly. One of the reasons Nan hired her was because she’s amazing with the customers, especially the elderly ones. “Travis and I are done,” I say firmly and she rolls her eyes.

“How many times have you said that?” she asks, tucking Mr. Benson’s sweets into a paper bag. She hands them over with a smile and he hands her his twenty pence coin. I’ve tried explaining to him that the prices have risen several times since the nineties, but I gave up many years ago. He pays the same price he’s always paid, completely oblivious to inflation.

“He didn't have a live-in girlfriend and kid then. Well, he clearly did, but I didn't know. It was the final straw, seeing them like that. Maybe we should both stay single for a while,” I muse.

“Some of us have been single for months, but I agree. Let’s go on a man ban,” says Sara, opening the door for Mr. Benson.

“We should also have some weekends home instead of trawling the bars for men or drunk dialling bikers,” I say with a grin.

Sara groans. “Now, you’re taking it too far.” She sighs. “But you’re right. Let’s hit the gym after work instead