Taming Blade (Kings Reapers MC Book 5)

by Nicola Jane

  “You’re gonna go on a date with the guy you haven’t met?” I ask.

  “Maybe. I’ve never had a guy buy me nice flowers. He’s making the right moves,” she says, laughing. “Anyway, I should go. See you around.” I nod and she heads for the change rooms.

  Damn, why’s this idiot showing interest in her when I’m still trying to figure her out?

  Chapter Six

  TILLIE

  I keep replaying my conversation with Blade. I was surprised when I saw him at the gym. He’s never been there before, at least not that I’ve noticed. Sara drops down on the couch beside me, rubbing her wet hair vigorously with a towel. “Why do you think Blade came to the gym today?”

  I shrug. “I was just thinking about it. A little weird that he keeps turning up where I am.”

  Sara smiles. “And you have Mr. Anonymous stalking from a distance. Girl, what are you doing differently to suddenly warrant all this attention?”

  “Honestly, I wish I knew.” My mobile phone buzzes and I glance at the screen. It’s a number I don’t recognise, but I open up the text. “Oh my,” I mumble. “It’s Mr. Anonymous himself.”

  Sara snatches my phone and reads the message aloud. “Enough of the mystery. I’d like us to meet.” She glances at me, her eyes alight with excitement. “Shit!”

  “What do I do?”

  “Meet him, of course,” says Sara. She taps out a reply and shows me the phone. “Nice and simple.”

  Me: When?

  I nod in agreement and she sends the message before passing the phone back.

  The reply comes almost instantly and I read it out to Sara. “No time like the present. I’m at The Innkeeper. Why not join me?” That bar is a five-minute walk from where we live.

  Sara jumps up. “I’ll dry my hair and change.” When I stare at her blankly, her eyes widen with impatience. “You can’t go alone. He might be a weirdo.”

  “Which is exactly why I’m not going at all. I’m not prepared for this,” I wail. “He knows my address, where I work, my phone number. It’s weird.”

  Sara takes me by the hands and pulls me to stand, then stares me in the eyes. “Get a hold of yourself. We need to know who the hell he is and how he knows you. Aren’t you a little bit intrigued?”

  I nod. “I guess, but I still need to prepare.”

  “Get dressed, put on a little mascara, and you’re good to go.”

  I take a deep breath before following Sara into the bar. It’s dimly lit but not busy. We head straight for the bar and I discreetly scan the room until my eyes land on an older-looking man with sunken eyes and a cruel smile. His eyes are fixed on me and I shiver. “Oh god, Sara,” I whisper, trying to keep my lips as still as possible in case he can lip read. “Is that him?”

  “Fuck, I hope not,” she mutters, smirking. “Has he got teeth?”

  “Tillie,” a voice rumbles from behind me and I turn quickly in fright. I’m staring at a hard, sculpted chest encased in a tight black tee. My eyes drift upwards and settle on the handsome face of a tall guy with green eyes. I take in his chiselled jaw with a spattering of a nine o’clock shadow. There’s no denying that he’s hot. “Glad you could make it,” he adds, and his deep voice washes over me for a second time, adding to his hotness. “I’m Ethan.”

  “Thank fuck for that. We thought the mystery man was him,” says Sara, pointing to the older man.

  Ethan sniggers. “He’s harmless enough. A regular.”

  “You drink here a lot?” I ask.

  “After work usually. I just got off shift. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

  Sara shakes her head. “I’m only here to keep an eye on my friend. You guys have a great time and I’ll just sit over there out the way,” she says as she heads to a corner booth and takes a seat.

  Ethan smiles at me and I smile back awkwardly. “I’ll have a lemonade,” I say. Once we have our drinks, we take a seat by the window. “What do you do for work?” I ask.

  “Nothing as exciting as you having your very own sweet shop,” he answers, taking a drink of his orange juice.

  I smile. “It’s not my shop. My grandmother owns it, and I just run it for her.”

  “Still,” he shrugs, “every kid dreams of having a sweet shop.”

  “I dream of owning my own bar,” I say, then add, “a cocktail bar.”.

  “That sounds amazing. Cocktail bars are all the rage. Is it a dream or will you make it a reality one day?”

  “I have some savings, so maybe one day. My grandmother thinks there are too many bars in London. She thinks I should settle for the shop.”

  “Can there ever be enough bars?” he chuckles.

  “So,” I say, relaxing back into my chair, “how do you know me?”

  “I saw you in the shop. I have a job that gives me access to details. I’m not proud to admit it, but I looked you up,” he says, smiling again and showing off two dimples in his cheeks.

  “You’re a cop?” I ask.

  “Would you mind if I was?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Why would I?”

  “Some people hate the cops. Like your friends over at the Kings Reapers,” he says, watching me carefully.

  “I hardly know them,” I say. “One of their members sometimes comes in the shop. We’re not together or anything,” I add. Then I inwardly groan. Why am I telling him that?

  “They’re not good news. Just in case you were thinking of becoming friendly.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not. They aren’t the kind of guys who have friends.” I instantly feel guilty for saying it. I don’t know why I feel some kind of loyalty to the Kings, I hardly know them, but saying we’re nothing makes me feel bad.

  “I’m not a cop,” he eventually admits, and I sag with relief. Not that I’d mind, because I’m a law-abiding citizen, but I have a feeling it would definitely put an end to mine and Blade’s new friendship, and I’m not ready to let him go completely.

  “Why didn’t you just come into the shop and ask me out on a date?” I ask.

  “I’ve always been a romantic at heart,” he says, adding a smile. “It’s a dying art, romance and mystery.”

  “You’re not kidding. I couldn’t tell you the last time I got flowers before you sent them.”

  “You look like a woman who needs to be treated right,” he says and I smile. He’s not wrong. “So you’re free and single,” he states rather than questions. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Free and single,” I confirm.

  “How long?”

  “A couple of weeks. Sort of.” I shake my head and sigh. “Argh, I know you shouldn’t talk about past relationships on a first date, but I was seeing a guy. It wasn’t officially a relationship. I was exclusive, he wasn’t. Turns out, he has a girlfriend and a kid. I didn’t know, but I still feel really guilty about the whole thing.”

  “What an ass,” he says. “If we’re sharing, I split with my girlfriend six months ago. She cheated on me.”

  “Oh crap, I’m so sorry. How long were you together?”

  “A few years,” he mutters. “I’m glad I saw her for who she was before I married her.”

  “You were really serious about her?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I was waiting for our three-year anniversary so I could propose. I caught her in bed with another guy the night before the anniversary.” My eyes widen and my heart aches for him. I get lost in his sad green eyes for a moment. “Anyway,” he says, clearing his throat, “you have to dust yourself off and carry on.”

  I finish my lemonade. “Do you want another?” I ask, grabbing my purse.

  He shakes his head. “I have work first thing. Can I call you to arrange a second date?”

  I smile. He’s good-looking, kind, and so far, he’s nice. What have I got to lose? So, I nod and he grins wide. “I’ll make it special.”

  “He was so hot,” says Sara, pulling herself up to sit on the counter.

  “Those eyes,” I say wistfully.

/>   “Those strong arms,” says Sara, and we both giggle like school girls. The shop door jingles as a customer enters and we both turn in unison. Blade stares at us, then smiles.

  “Tillie went on a date,” Sara blurts out and I shoot her a ‘what the hell’ look.

  “With the psycho?” he asks, letting the shop door slam closed behind him.

  “He isn’t a psycho,” I answer with a laugh.

  “And if he is, he’s a fucking hot one,” butts in Sara.

  “So it doesn’t matter if he murders you, as long as he’s good looking?” snaps Blade.

  I narrow my eyes. “What crawled up your ass?”

  “What’s the difference between me and him?” I can’t help the grin that escapes me. Blade is jealous.

  “You wanted a one-night stand, he wants a second date and maybe a third or fourth,” I explain.

  “I can date,” says Blade, defensively. “I could totally do that.”

  “Then ask her on a date,” pushes Sara.

  Blade narrows his eyes. “Not if she’s already dating the psycho.”

  “Your loss,” Sara responds with a shrug.

  The door opens again and Lake pops his head in. “What the fuck’s taking so long?” he snaps.

  “Blade wants to ask Tillie on a date,” says Sara.

  Lake steps in the shop, his expression amused. “Really?”

  “No, I don’t. She’s already dating,” says Blade. “Now, get me the damn liquorice.”

  I take down the jar and open a paper bag. “It’s fine. I know you don’t date,” I say. “It’s completely beyond you. And he really isn’t a psycho. He was actually really nice.” I hand over the bag of red liquorice twists.

  “That’s what all killers want you to think before they slit your throat. I’ll take you out on a date,” he mutters quietly, glancing over at Lake and Sara, who are deep in conversation. “Where do yah wanna go?”

  He’s totally out of his comfort zone and it’s cute to watch. “You’re supposed to think of that. I just have to turn up looking pretty.”

  He nods. “Fine. I’ll pick you up at eight tonight.”

  I smile to myself as he leaves. I’ve gone from one, commitment-phobe, cheating ass, to two hot men showing an interest.

  “Aren’t you setting your expectations a little low by wearing that outfit?” asks Sara from her spot on my bed. I glance down at the blue jeans and soft pink jumper. “You don’t think he’ll make an effort and take you somewhere nice?”

  “You think I should change?” I ask. “Blade isn’t the type of man to book a posh restaurant.”

  “Give him some credit. He might surprise you.”

  I sigh heavily and open my wardrobe. I don’t have many nice dresses because I like to wear trousers or jeans, but I do own a couple that would pass as date night wear. I go with a short, tight-fitting, black dress that comes just below my ass. “Much better,” Sara says approvingly.

  Blade arrives just as I’m checking myself in the hall mirror one last time. Sara swings the door open and smiles wide. “Five minutes early. That earns you some brownie points.”

  I grab my bag and Sara steps to the side. Blade looks handsome in his usual jeans and T-shirt, with his leather jacket firmly in place. I wonder if he ever takes that thing off?

  He grips the door frame, leaning forward slightly to take me in. “Fuck, you look hot!” he says, his eyes wide.

  “You’re not so bad yahself,” I say, smirking. I follow him outside, spotting his bike, and I glance down at my dress and heels. “You brought your bike?”

  “I love my bike. I take it everywhere,” he says. He sees me looking at my outfit and his mouth forms an O shape once he realises. “Right. I guess your heels aren’t really made for riding a bike. Erm . . .” He looks around, scratching his head. “We can walk. It isn’t too far from here.”

  I guess I should have known he’d come on his bike. I press my lips into a firm line, but I find myself nodding anyway. He wouldn’t understand the pain of walking in heels.

  After ten minutes of walking, I’m beginning to feel the blisters on my toes. “Much further?” I ask.

  We turn the corner and I inwardly groan. The bar where he drinks with his biker friends is right there and I pray he isn’t taking me in there. “The Windsor?”

  Blade grins at me. “Yeah. Best place for a party.”

  I smile awkwardly. He doesn’t do dates, so I can’t complain, but I also can’t help feeling slightly disappointed that it isn’t just me and him. I was looking forward to getting to know him some more.

  Inside, it’s heaving with men dressed in the same style of leather jacket as Blade and women draped around them in next to nothing. “I just gotta say hi to my Pres,” he says. “I’ll bring you a drink. Go join the ol’ ladies.” I look around, but I don’t see any old ladies in here. “At the table,” he adds. I see where Blade points and spot a group of women around my age. I’m hesitant to just rock up to these women when I don’t know them, though I do recognise a couple of them from when I sat at the club’s breakfast table that one time. “Come on, I’ll introduce you,” he adds. We approach the table and the conversation dies out as they all look up at us. “Ladies,” Blade croons.

  “Where have you been? Riggs is in a shitty mood. You were meant to report back hours ago,” says one of the women.

  “This little sour puss is Anna,” says Blade, grinning at me. “She’s the Pres’s ol’ lady.”

  I give a little wave, then resist the urge to kick myself. Why the hell did I wave like the new kid at school?

  “That’s Eva, Anna’s best friend,” he adds.

  “Am I not a little more than just Anna’s best friend?” snaps Eva. “I mean, I’ve been a part of the club for some time now and I’m married to your VP.”

  “I was getting to that part, beautiful.” He adds a grin. “Then we have the lovely Leia, Pres’s sister, and then Gia, Blu’s significant other.” The women all smile, and they seem friendly enough. “This is Sunshine. Guard her with your life,” says Blade before he turns and heads back into the crowd. I’m rooted to the spot, suddenly feeling abandoned. This has never happened to me on a date before.

  “Don’t look so terrified,” says Anna, pulling out a stool beside her. “Take a seat. We don’t bite.”

  Leia pours me a glass of wine from a bottle of white in the centre of the table. “Are you and Blade sleeping together?” she asks bluntly.

  “Christ, Leia, at least stick with light chat to begin with,” snaps Eva.

  “You’re so snippy today. Have you and Cree had a fallout?” asks Leia, and Eva scowls.

  “No,” I interrupt before they can get into an argument. “This is our first date.”

  They all turn to me with wide eyes. “Date?” Anna repeats, and I nod. “Blade never dates.”

  “I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse,” I say, adding a grin. “But I kinda guessed he never dates because he brought me here.” When they don’t laugh, I realise I might have offended them so I add in, “Not that here is bad. I mean,” I pause and look around, “it’s . . . nice.”

  The women break out into laughter and I relax knowing they were just kidding with me. “If this was my first date, I’d have walked out and gone home,” says Anna.

  “Are you kidding?” asks Eva. “Blade isn’t exactly bad to look at. I’d at least entertain him until I worked out if he was worth a second date.”

  “And where do you think a second date would be if the first was a backstreet bar full of bikers?” asks Leia, laughing.

  Eva shrugs. “Maybe the chicken shop?” They laugh again and this time I join them.

  “It’s not so bad,” I say. “I was just expecting to actually spend time getting to know him. We got here and he dumped me for his mates,” I add.

  “Girl, that’s the life we lead. The only time I get to spend more than passing time with Cree is when he’s buried inside of me,” says Eva, and the women all groan, feigning
disgust.

  “It’s true,” adds Anna. “I know Riggs and I have our problems, but at least when he’s inside of me, he’s paying me some attention.” The women nod in agreement.

  “You’re not exactly selling him to me,” I say.

  “Let me break it down,” says Anna. “You want a guy who loves you unconditionally, uncontrollably, and fiercely, then Blade is the one for you. But, if you’re looking for one hundred percent attention, a guy who’s always around, then give up now. None of these guys can dedicate time to women.”

  “This is so beyond first date chat,” I mutter. “I was honestly just looking at getting laid,” I joke, and they fall about laughing.

  BLADE

  “I need the collection done tonight. You let me down earlier and now you owe me.” Anna wasn’t kidding when she warned me Riggs was in a mood. I didn’t let him down, I just turned up late for a different collection. Ain’t my fault the guys had locked up and gone. I glance over to Tillie. She and the girls are laughing, so at least they get along. I weigh up my options—take her with me, or leave her here and hope she’s still around when I return. Maybe she won’t notice I’m gone.

  “This is the address. You’ve got twenty minutes to get there,” snaps Riggs.

  “No problem, Pres,” I say, then pause. “Actually, just one problem. I don’t have my bike.” He holds out his bike keys with a look of irritation on his face and I smile gratefully. “Thanks.”

  I go over to Tillie. “Fancy getting out of here?” I ask and she smiles. I take her by the hand and lead her from the bar. “I just gotta pick something up. Means we gotta go on a bike,” I say, stopping next to Riggs’ bike.

  “Blade, I have a dress and heels on,” she mutters.

  “It’ll be fine. No one will see. Trust me. I’ve had loads of girls on my bike in skirts.” As the final word leaves my mouth, I wince. “Including the drunk version of you,” I add, passing her Riggs’ spare helmet.

  Having Tillie pressed against my back, clinging on for dear life, is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. When I finally stop the bike by the pick-up point, I’m so hard, it’s almost painful. “Wait here,” I say.