Coming Home
Copyright © 2016 by Jourdyn Kelly
Published by Jourdyn Kelly
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by: Jourdyn Kelly
Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Jourdyn Kelly
Where You Can Find Cameo Characters
Coming Home Soundtrack
Connect with Jourdyn Kelly
“CAKE! I NEED cake!” Blaise’s usually sweet, New Zealand accent was stressed even to her own ears as she breezed into her best friend Ellie’s diner kitchen. “And tea!”
Ellie’s eyes glanced up from frosting the red velvet cake she had just grabbed from the refrigerator, then up at the clock.
“It’s barely eight o’clock, Blaise. Are you here with your date?”
Blaise snorted a very unladylike word before answering. “No, he is definitely not here with me. Are you going to give me cake or do I have to stick my face in that one?” she asked, gesturing to her favorite dessert ever sitting in front of Ellie.
“You will do no such thing! There’s some red velvet left over there. Grab it yourself since you seem to think you can just waltz back here anytime you want,” Ellie teased.
Blaise just grinned, knowing full well Ellie didn’t mind her being back here. They had been best friends since they met at University. Fourteen years later, they were closer than ever. Even after Blaise’s stupid decision to return home for a while four years ago. Ellie had even made Blaise her teenage daughter, Jessie’s, Godmother.
She eyed the last bit of red velvet that sat under the glass cake dome. How many calories if I just finish this sucker off? she wondered idly before lifting the dome and bringing the stand with her, along with a fork.
“You are not going to eat the rest of that, are you?” Ellie asked incredulously.
Blaise blinked at her, then stuffed a big forkful of moist, delicious red velvet with cream cheese frosting into her mouth. “Mmm,” she purred.
Ellie just shook her head, going to the cabinet above the refrigerator. She grabbed a bottle of Sullivan’s Cove whiskey. “Do you want the tea with this, or would you just like it straight up?”
Blaise wrinkled her nose. “Tea, please.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Ellie placed a teacup in front of Blaise and filled it with jasmine tea.
Blaise sighed dramatically. “I’m just sick of arrogant arseholes. These damn books come out about alpha males and men think that’s what every woman wants. Problem is, they only get the arrogant part down, not the sweet part.” Blaise poured a generous spattering of whiskey into her tea.
Ellie had resumed frosting her cake, but paused when she saw the amount of the alcohol Blaise poured. “That bad?”
“He basically told me that the date was just a prelude to bonk me. And that was not even ten minutes into the damn thing.”
Ellie snickered at Blaise’s Kiwi word for sex. After more than a decade of listening to Blaise, she was a pro at understanding the odd words and phrases.
“I take it you weren’t feeling it?”
“Um, no,” Blaise responded around a mouth full of cake. “He thought he was awesome and God’s gift to women. You know I don’t go for that shit.”
Ellie made a face. “So, back to the drawing board?”
Blaise sighed. “I think I’m going to take a break from dating. I have struck out the past… well, every time.”
“That’s not true. What about the one guy. Chad? Brad?”
“Tad. Or, Thaddeus. Ugh. He was okay, just too pretentious for me.”
Ellie chuckled. “You know you find something wrong with everyone you go out with.”
“At least I go out,” Blaise mumbled grumpily.
“Blaise.”
“It’s true, El. You’re a beautiful woman, and yet you hide here in your diner, baking all the time.”
“So? Where is it written that a woman has to date to be happy? Besides, I have Jessie.”
“Having a kid doesn’t mean you have to deny yourself, Ellie.” Blaise knew she was treading on thin ice with her friend. This was always a sore subject between the two of them, but she could never figure out why.
“Blaise, please?”
“Fine. I just hope that one day you’ll tell me,” Blaise said softly.
“Tell you what?” Ellie asked warily.
“Whatever it is that you’re keeping from me. You know you can tell me anything, right? I know there’s a real reason you don’t go out with anyone, and no, I don’t count Frank,” she added, bringing up Ellie’s ‘friend’ that moved in with her recently. Blaise knew nothing was going on between them. He just wasn’t Ellie’s type. Not that she knew what that type was, Ellie was too closed-lipped about it. But, boring Frank? No way. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
“Hey. First of all, Frank is just a friend who needed a place to stay for a little while. Stop hating on him,” Ellie laughed, but Blaise could hear the strain. “Second, keep it up and see if you get any more free cake.”
“I’m sorry!” Blaise held up her hands in mock surrender, deciding it was time to lighten the mood again. “I meant nothing by that. Don’t take my cake!” she smirked, then stuffed her face with another big bite.
“Well, look on the bright side,” Ellie began. “If you stop dating, you can just eat all the cake you want. You won’t have to worry about calories.”
“Thanks. That helps a lot.” Blaise looked at the huge piece of cake that she was halfway through. Shrugging, she took another bite. Suppose I’ll just double up on yoga and running.
“Six a.m.”
Blaise glanced up bemused. “What?”
“You’re going to meet me at six tomorrow morning.”
“For what?” Blaise almost shrieked. “I said I was sorry about bringing up the whole dating thing!”
Ellie chuckled much to Blaise’s dismay. “I know. I’m not doing it to torture you. We’re going to go running.”
“Oh, and that’s not torture?” Blaise mumbled, taking yet another bite. Hell, if she had to endure running with Ellie, she sure as hell was going to finish off this damn cake.
“No. Torture would be ma
king you do an hour of yoga after our five miles.”
Blaise poured another shot of whiskey, downing it without diluting it with tea this time. “I don’t know why you hate me,” she muttered as Ellie laughed heartily.
BLAISE’S BAD NIGHT ran over into the next morning, and she was in a terrible mood. First, she awoke with a raging headache. Serves me right for drinking more of that whiskey than usual. Of course, with this pounding in her head, she was not happy about having to wake up before anyone should be allowed to wake up. Mind you, waking up at the butt-crack of dawn to run with Miss I-Could-Run-A-Marathon-Every-Weekend, was not Blaise’s idea of fun when she wasn’t hung over. It was pure hell when she was.
Then her delivery boy, Jason, called in sick. Again. That makes the fourth time in the past two weeks. So, for the fourth time in two weeks, Blaise has to make the deliveries herself. As the owner of Knight in Bloom, she was used to having to compensate for her employees. But enough was enough. It was time for her to find a new delivery boy.
And now, here she is, driving the damned delivery van instead of her bitchin’ Camaro. A very bad calypso band was pounding in her head, and there was a damned car parked in her designated spot in front of her shop.
“Son of a bitch!”
It didn’t matter to Blaise that the offending car was an exquisitely sexy Aston Martin. It was in her spot, and now she either had to search for another spot and risk being late with her deliveries. Or, double park and put whatever ticket she may get on the jerk’s windshield. She smirked at that thought. Decision made, she thought as she pulled up beside the sleek car. Blaise flipped on her hazard lights, and hopped out of the van. She was tempted to run her fingers along the smooth exterior of the panty-dropper of a car. Black on black, red accents. Damn, Blaise thought with longing. Cars just happened to be her weak spot. There was no backseat to speak of, but Blaise was sure she could figure out a way to have sex in the front. While the car was purring, of course.
She chuckled at herself, welcoming the lightening of her mood, even if it was for a moment. What made it even better was the fact that, whoever was driving this sex machine was now blocked in until she was ready to go.
Blaise finally tore herself away from the car, and pushed her way through the front door of her pride and joy. Knight in Bloom was her baby. For as long as she could remember, Blaise Knight had a love of botany and floriculture. She had been born, it seemed, with a green thumb. There wasn’t a plant or flower she couldn’t make flourish. People from all over the world came to Blaise for weddings, funerals, Valentine’s, and even “I’m sorry, forgive me” bouquets. If it could be grown, bloomed or even created, Blaise could do it.
“Good morning, Ms. Knight!”
Blaise eyed Meredith Finch, who had worked for Blaise for a little more than a year now. The young blonde was enthusiastic, eager, cheerful, and—if Blaise was completely honest—just a tad flighty. Perhaps she was just naturally effervescent, but there were times when Blaise had to believe it was an act. At least she hoped so. It was that customary cheerfulness that almost made Blaise groan this morning. She was not in the mood to be all happy-go-lucky.
“Morning, Mer.” Blaise forced her tone to be light. It’s not her employee’s fault that she was in a bad mood. “Would you get all of the order sheets ready for me? I need to start loading the van for deliveries.”
“Jason called in again?”
Mer’s tone was sympathetic, making Blaise’s sarcastic retort die on her tongue. “Mmhmm. I’ll be in the back. Just put the orders on the table over there.” Blaise absently gestured to her crafting table where she created her ‘masterpieces’.
“You know, I could make the deliveries if you want,” Mer offered hesitantly.
Blaise stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Did you get your driver’s license back?” she asked with a smirk. Mer was a great employee, but driving was not her strong suit. Multiple parking tickets and moving violations caused the young college student to have her driver’s license revoked.
Mer grinned sheepishly. “No. But if you need help…”
“Mer, I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t need my insurance rate to go up. Nor do I want to have to bail you out of jail,” Blaise teased with a smile, then continued to the back.
She tossed her bag onto her extremely messy desk with a sigh. Usually a very clean individual—almost to obsession—Blaise couldn’t figure out why her desk in the shop was the one exception. She tried keeping it clean, of course. But she was always driven to distraction by customers, orders or just wanting to play around with certain ideas she had for arrangements.
“Ms. Knight?”
Blaise looked up to see Mer poke her head around the door frame. She shook her head, wondering if her young employee would ever start calling her Blaise. This ‘Ms.’ business made Blaise feel old, which at thirty-two, she certainly wasn’t.
“Yes?” She decided she’d wait until she was in a better mood before having that talk again.
“The orders are ready for you.”
“Fine, I’ll be right there.” First things first, Blaise thought grumpily, and turned to her much adored Keurig coffee brewer. She spun the coffee pod carousel, randomly choosing a flavor. It was her morning routine when she got in. Nothing was done until she had her cup of coffee. Today’s flavor? She plucked the pod out of its spot and held it up. Jamaica Me Crazy. Blaise laughed dryly. How appropriate.
The sound of the bell above the door barely registered with Blaise as she started the process of making her perfect cup of coffee.
“Ms. Knight?”
The cup stopped halfway to her lips as Blaise heard Mer call back to her. So close, she thought. Sighing, she took the sip anyway. A little too quickly for her esophagus’s own good. Fantastic. Perhaps scalding her esophagus would take her mind off her headache.
“Yes?” she called back, coughing lightly.
“There’s a man here saying you’re blocking in his car.”
“Too bad, buddy,” Blaise muttered. “Shouldn’t have parked in my spot.”
“Ms. Knight?” Mer leaned on the door jam, fanning herself with an order sheet.
Blaise took in the slightly flushed blonde, and raised a bemused eyebrow. “He’s going to have to wait until I load the van.”
“He says he’s in a hurry.”
“Yeah? Me, too.”
“Maybe you should come out here and talk to him?” Mer asked, sounding almost desperate. Was he that much of an asshole, Blaise wondered. With that sensual automobile he drives, she wouldn’t doubt it.
Blaise sighed heavily. “Fine. Can I have one more sip of my coffee, please?”
Mer nodded enthusiastically, then curiously took a deep breath before returning to the front of the store. Her employee’s odd behavior made Blaise’s annoyance surface. She wouldn’t tolerate anyone being unpleasant to her people, and if that was the case, she was more than willing to tell this man how she feels.
Setting her coffee down with a distinct thud, straightened her shoulders and went to greet the man who stole her parking spot.
FUCK ME. THAT was the first surprising thought that entered Blaise’s mind. What bothered her most was the fact that she didn’t know if she meant it literally. Of course this is the man that drives that sex machine. He was dripping with sex appeal, himself. Good God, the man was hot. She took in the brown hair, stylishly cut in what Blaise thought of as ‘businessman chic’. She imagined running her fingers through that hair while staring into the smoldering gray eyes. Smoldering gray eyes? What the hell was she thinking? Of course, her eyes decided to take a journey further down, skimming over full lips… then taking another cursory glance at those lips. Hmm, move on, Blaise. On down to the body. Sure. That was perfectly safe, she mused, mentally chastising herself, yet continuing her perusal. The journey took a while since the man was extremely tall. Especially considering Blaise was only five foot five.
Mr. Businessman was built! Have mercy! Feeling a bit fl
ush herself, Blaise was beginning to wish she had Mer’s makeshift fan. The suit jacket covered him, but she could still make out the bulge of biceps. That made Blaise think of another bulge, and she abruptly brought her eyes back up, meeting his amused—and, something else—expression.
“Can I help you?” Grateful that her voice was steady, and strong, Blaise leaned confidently on the counter. She crossed her arms in front of her. It may be a defensive gesture, but in this case, Blaise was defending against her hardening nipples. Damned traitor of a body.
“I have no doubt you can,” he answered with a sexy smile.
His voice was a deep, velvety baritone that had Blaise’s stomach clenching. She said nothing, raising a questioning eyebrow, and waited.
He chuckled softly before continuing. “You’re blocking my car.”
“Hmm. You’re parked in my spot. The one with the sign that clearly says ‘Parking for Knight of Bloom van ONLY’.”
“I was in a hurry.”
“So am I,” Blaise answered. “I have deliveries to get out, and you being there throws my schedule off.”
“Well, if you could just back the van up a bit, I can get out of your way.” His arrogant tone started to grate on Blaise’s nerves. After her date last night, the last thing she wanted to deal with was another ego.
“And, if you hadn’t parked in a designated spot in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” she shot back.
“Look,” he scrubbed his hands—very large and strong hands—over his face. His arrogant façade faded a bit, and Blaise got a glimpse of weariness that pulled at her heartstrings. “Can you just move the van so I can get out? I have a meeting to get to.”
And, just like that, her heartstrings were snipped in two. She glared at him. “And, like I said before, I have deliveries to get out. Let me load up my van, and I’ll be ‘out of your way’.” The last words were dripping with sarcasm as Blaise turned on her heel and walked away.
“Can’t your girl here move the van if you’re too busy?” The infuriating man flicked his hand indifferently towards Mer.
Coming Home: An LA Lovers Book Page 1