Coming Home: An LA Lovers Book

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Coming Home: An LA Lovers Book Page 2

by Jourdyn Kelly


  “No.” Blaise began gathering arrangements she had finished yesterday from the refrigerated walk-in. She was glad that she had made the decision to get the orders ready before leaving for her crap date last night. It made things easier for her today, which apparently was a good thing since Mr. Aston Martin followed her.

  “You’re being impossible.”

  That rich, velvety voice was starting to sound a bit irritated, Blaise thought gleefully. Good. That will teach you to park in my spot.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said without one ounce of remorse.

  “Ms. Knight, is it?”

  Blaise glanced at him, her arms laden with arrangements. “You obviously heard Mer call me that.” She pushed past him, heading towards the front door. “Mer could you come and open the van for me?”

  “I can do that,” Mr. Velvet said.

  “That’s okay. Mer?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Blaise rolled her eyes. If it wasn’t ‘Ms.’ it was ‘ma’am’. Way to make me feel older, kid. Mer jogged out to the van, propping the backdoors open, and pulling the step stool out for Blaise. “Thanks.”

  “So, when you get these loaded, you can move, right?”

  “When I have everything loaded, I will move.”

  “Are you always this difficult?” he growled.

  Oh, Lord. Blaise felt that growl in her core. She couldn’t help but wonder if he did that while having sex.

  “Not always,” she said easily, mentally patting herself on the back for not giving away how much this man affected her.

  “So, it’s just for me?”

  Her eyes cut to him, then to his car as she hopped out of the van. “Yep.”

  “Ms. Knight,” he began, following her inside once again. “What can I do to expedite this situation?”

  “You could have not parked there,” Blaise replied sarcastically.

  “Well, obviously I did, so what is the solution?”

  Throughout the entire conversation, Blaise noted that not once did he apologize. Maybe, just maybe, she would have acted a little nicer had he at least had the decency to be contrite. “Mer?” she called out, ignoring the man’s question. “Could you load the rest of these while I finish this arrangement, please?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Blaise watched as Mer’s eyes drifted over the beautiful man. She felt a touch of jealousy, which completely baffled her. Yes, the man was gorgeous, but he was exasperating. Blaise was not interested. Liar, she immediately thought to herself. She separated herself from the exasperating man by standing behind her crafting table, a bunch of roses and baby’s breath littered the table top in front of her. She mentally thanked Mer for getting everything set up.

  “You’re serious? You’re going to do this now?”

  Blaise ignored him once again, taking her pruners in hand. She picked up a perfect red rose, absently bringing it to her nose and breathing deeply before trimming the stem diagonally. Finally, she glanced up, noting the slight flare of his nostrils, and darkening of his eyes. I guess he’s pissed, she thought briefly finding the sight extremely seductive. “I have a job to do, Mr.?”

  “Steele. Greyson Steele. And, so do I, Ms. Knight. You’re keeping me from it.”

  The bell above the door sounded, cutting off Blaise’s retort.

  “Blaise?”

  Smiling immediately at the familiar voice, Blaise called Jessie over. “Hey! Shouldn’t you be at school?”

  “On my way. Mom wanted me to stop by and remind… oh, sorry!” Jessie’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of Greyson Steele. Not that Blaise blamed her at all, of course. He was quite impressive.

  “No problem. Your mom wanted you to remind me of?”

  “Huh? Oh! Right. The, um, centerpieces you promised her,” Jessie answered, her eyes still on the tall man.

  Blaise chuckled. “I’ll have them ready. I just have to make these deliveries first.”

  “Jason didn’t show up again?” Jessie asked, finally bringing her attention to Blaise.

  “Nope.” She found it amusing that Mr. Steele stood there watching the exchange as though he were watching a ping pong match. Blaise put the final touches on the arrangement of red, peach and white roses she was working on. With sprigs of baby’s breath and maidenhair ferns complimenting the full blooms of the roses, she was happy with the finished product. She wanted to bury her face in the fragrant flowers, but didn’t think that would go over very well with her guests. So she delicately sniffed the bouquet, inadvertently letting out a small moan at the scent.

  FUCK ME. THE jolt that Greyson felt in his dick when he first saw the owner of the flower shop, just intensified ten-fold. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen—not to mention the most infuriating—just moaned. The softest, sweetest sound he had ever had the pleasure of hearing had his already twitching cock growing harder. She was being distracted by the young girl that came in asking something about centerpieces, so Greyson took the opportunity to do an even more thorough examination of the brunette.

  Blaise, he thought with interest. The name suits her well. Her hair fell in long, soft waves cascading down her back. It was so shiny, looked so soft. Greyson couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like fisted in his hand as he thrust himself deep inside her. Shit, she is fucking beautiful. Her full, pink lips called to him like a siren. Greyson wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss them until they bruised, or watch his cock slip between them. Either one would do just fine, though watching her suck him off while she looked up at him with those eyes the color of fine, aged whiskey was quickly taking the lead. Damn. He had to rip his eyes away from those lips before he embarrassed himself. Unfortunately for him, his eyes landed on the firm, full breasts. The petite woman, almost a foot shorter than his six four frame, was dressed in a baby blue button up blouse, the top buttons undone enough to give him a glimpse of silky cleavage. Don’t look there, idiot! He realized then that there was nowhere he could safely look at her. Any further down, and he would have to deal with seeing that perfect ass in jeans that looked as though they were made specifically for her.

  “Mr. Steele?” Damn, that soft voice, and intriguing accent, made his cock jump again. He could imagine her calling his name out as he made her come. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to hear her say his name now.

  “Greyson,” he muttered gruffly, more turned-on than annoyed at this point.

  “Sorry?”

  “Call me Greyson.”

  She regarded him for a moment, and he found himself wondering what she was thinking. He was normally very good at reading people, but this woman was excellent at shielding her emotions.

  “Mr. Steele,” she repeated with conviction. Damn it. He really needed to hear her say his name. “I’ll be out of your way in about ten minutes. There’s really no reason for you to stand there.”

  “Where else am I going to go?” Greyson countered, suddenly not giving a damn about his meeting. Sure, his father is going to be pissed at him for being late, but one look at the beauty before him, and thoughts of his father’s ire disappeared completely.

  “There’s a diner a couple of doors down. Why don’t you grab yourself a cup of coffee?”

  Damn. Was she trying to get rid of him? He supposed he hadn’t made much of a great first impression. Not good, since Greyson had decided to ask her out. The young girl had left, and the employee is busy. This is his opportunity.

  “How about I bring you back a cup? A sort of peace offering?” he asked hopefully.

  “No. Thank you.”

  “Blaise?” He tested the name on his tongue, and decided it felt good. “Your name suits you.”

  She stopped what she was doing and placed her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Greyson lifted his hands in defense. “Nothing bad. It’s just a beautiful and unique name.”

  She frowned, giving him a skeptical look. “If you keep distracting me, Mr. Steele, you’re going to be even l
ater than you already are.”

  “Please, call me Greyson.” He managed not to sound as desperate as he felt. The need to hear that sweet, accented voice speaking his name was growing intense. His heart began to beat a little faster as she held his gaze. She opened her mouth to speak…

  “Ms. Knight?”

  Greyson barely contained an irritated growl at their interruption. So fucking close, he groused internally.

  “Yes?”

  “Everything is loaded. I also made sure the addresses were input into the GPS for you.”

  “Thanks, Mer.” She gave her employee a genuine smile. It made Greyson wish she would smile at him like that.

  Fuck. It’s been a while since he’s felt this intrigued by a woman. If ever. Curious that it takes a woman who riles him. Or perhaps that’s exactly why he’s interested. She didn’t just fall at his feet, begging for attention. Why should she, he thought. She’s beautiful. Could have any man she wants. Sure, he’s never had problems getting women. In fact, usually all it took was a drink and a compliment. But somehow Greyson didn’t think that would work with this spirited woman.

  “Mr. Steele?”

  Her angelic voice cut through his reverie, and he focused his attention back on her.

  “Sorry?”

  “I said, you’re in luck. I’m leaving now.”

  Shit! Think, Greyson!

  “Oh. Right. Look, about that coffee. Perhaps you could join me for a cup when we both have some time?”

  “You’re asking me out?” she asked, her perfectly arched eyebrows shooting to her hairline.

  Greyson shrugged, not accustomed to feeling self-conscious. “Sure. Why not?”

  “I’m flattered, but I have to decline. I’m sorry.”

  He watched, stunned with the rejection, as Blaise rushed around the table with flowers in hand. She called for the keys, and the young blonde that worked for her tossed them in her direction. Greyson was still frozen with confusion as Blaise slipped out the door. The bell broke the spell he was under, and he ran after her.

  “Why?” he called out as she closed the back doors of the van.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why won’t you go out with me? It’s just coffee.” Greyson mentally chastised himself for running after her. He doesn’t run after women if they’re not interested. Of course, once they know who he is and how much money he has, they’re always interested, he thought bitterly. He hoped Blaise would be different. “Blaise, we got off on the wrong foot, I admit that. Let me make it up to you. Coffee. That’s all I’m asking.” Greyson leaned against his car, crossing his arms and his ankles.

  He knew she found him attractive. Greyson could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. If he could just get her to sit down with him, he could show her he’s not always the prick he’s sure she thinks he is.

  “I really have to go, Mr. Steele.” He saw her hesitate for a moment, and he felt hopeful that she’d give in. “I hope you don’t get into too much trouble for being late to your meeting. Have a nice day.” The beautiful woman gave him a fleeting smile, and then she was gone, leaving him baffled. Have a nice day? That’s it?

  “Shit.” Greyson glanced at his watch, grimacing at the time. After one last look at the shop, vowing to come back and wear the sexy owner down, he slipped into his car and drove off.

  “GOOD MORNING, MR. Steele.” The voluptuous redhead behind the receptionist desk at Steele Industries greeted him with a sultry smile. She was his father’s acquisition, as were the rest of the women filling roles of assistants or secretaries. It’s not the way Greyson would run the company, but since he hasn’t ‘earned that right’, yet, he had to put up with it. The attention, however, became tiresome.

  The whole damned company became tiresome, he thought miserably. His father’s ‘vision’ of taking companies, forcibly if necessary, and tearing them apart for scraps, wasn’t Greyson’s idea of good business. It was lucrative if done right, but unimaginative. Boring as hell, he brooded.

  “Good morning,” he said briskly, with barely a glance. Walking directly to the conference room, he strode in confidently, not about to allow his father to intimidate him.

  “Greyson. Nice of you to join us today.” Preston Steele gave his son a hard, disapproving look.

  “Sorry, couldn’t be helped,” Greyson answered without a flinch. “Please, continue.” He knew Preston would be pissed with his blasé attitude, but Greyson just didn’t care. His relationship with his father had always been strained, no need to change that now. Hell, for as long as he could remember, Preston would push his son hard, telling him it was necessary in order to make him a man. It was complete bullshit. Greyson knew that his father was just a selfish prick who didn’t give a damn about anything except his money and status. As Greyson grew older, the treatment got worse. Preston didn’t want to hand over the business to his son. This would suit Greyson just fine since he didn’t want the damn business. He’d had other aspirations. But his mother would hear nothing of it. The business stays in the family, and Greyson will take over the reins when the time is right. He would also marry the girl they picked out for him. He almost snarled aloud as he thought of Pricilla. Rich bitch without a hint of a personality. His mother said she had ‘good genes’ and they would make beautiful babies. Fuck of it is, she was terrible in bed, and there was nothing else about her that kept him interested. He’d be damned if he’d be chained to someone like Pricilla for the rest of his life.

  Blaise Knight entered his mind, unbidden. He wondered if she would be as intense in bed as she was with him earlier. Where Pricilla was cold, he just knew Blaise could heat him up like no other. He had to get to know the firecracker of a woman better.

  “Greyson? Do you have anything to add?” Preston asked snidely.

  “Nope. I think you’ve covered everything, Preston.” Greyson hadn’t been paying attention, but he knew his father was thorough if nothing else.

  “Very well. Meeting is adjourned,” Preston announced, dismissing everyone with a cold flick of the wrist. “Greyson, a word.”

  Fuck. “Of course.” He patiently remained in his seat as the others filed out, then turned bored eyes to his father.

  “It doesn’t exhibit good rapport with our employees if you cannot bother to come in on time.” Preston steepled his fingers in front of his face, tapping them monotonously. It was a habit that got on Greyson’s nerves.

  “I told you, it couldn’t be helped.”

  “I have a life outside of this office, Greyson. But I still manage to get here on time. Whatever ‘extracurricular’ activity you indulge in while you’re not here or with your fiancée, should not keep you from your duties.”

  Duties, Greyson thought with disgust. “My duties have never suffered here. And, Pricilla is not my fiancée,” he spat.

  “It’s just a matter of time.” Preston’s flippant remark only pissed Greyson off more.

  “It will never happen. Now are you finished here, or would you like to reprimand me some more? I have work to do.”

  “I need you out in the field.”

  Greyson barely managed to not roll his eyes at Preston. ‘Out in the field’ meant Greyson had to vet a business his father was interested in. He hated it. He had to go in a floundering business, demand to look at the books with empty assurances that his bigger company may be able to help, only to rip the carpet out from under them. In some instances, the owners had built the business up from the ground and just hit hard times. Instead of helping them get back on their feet, for a percentage of the profits, of course, Steele Industries tore them apart. Without an ounce of compassion.

  “I have other things to do today, Preston. Find someone else.”

  “You are my employee, Greyson. You will do as I ask.”

  “No. I won’t. I’m busy today. If you don’t like it, fire me,” Greyson dared, knowing Preston would never do that. His wife’s money is what kept Steele Industries afloat when Preston practically ran it into the ground. Nora
Steele was now on the board of directors, much to Preston’s dismay. In the eyes of the employees, Preston Steele was the boss. In reality, Greyson knew it was Nora.

  “Your mother will hear about this. I do not appreciate your attitude, and blatant disrespect for me and this company. This should your priority, not whatever tart you have on the side.”

  Greyson’s nostrils flared in rage. He couldn’t deny that he’d had his share of ‘sexcapades’, but having his philandering father call him out, angered him. “There is no ‘tart’, Preston. At least not for me. Get Ethan to run your errands for you,” he retorted, bringing up his father’s apprentice. Ethan was a little too eager to be a part of the Steele family, and unabashedly catered to Preston’s every whim. He’s also ‘courting’ Greyson’s sister. Greyson almost snorted with displeasure. Ethan probably didn’t even like Courtney as a person, just her last name. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to.” With that shot, Greyson made his exit.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Steele?” The redhead got to her feet and walked around the desk. “You look stressed. I know a good relaxation technique…”

  “Show it to Preston. I’m sure he’d enjoy it more,” he rebuked, wondering if he should feel guilty for getting pleasure watching her shrink back from his scowl. Fuck this place. Not even nine a.m. and already he needed a drink.

  “HEY, MAN.” CADE clapped Greyson on the shoulder before slipping into the booth in front of him.

  Greyson and Cade Drake had been best friends since their days in t-ball. They were inseparable then, and that followed them into high school, college and even the military. It was there the two men went their separate ways with Cade leaving college early and ultimately becoming a Colonel in the 1st Marine Special Operations Battalion. Greyson joined the military a couple years later, ending his armed forces career as a Lieutenant Colonel the US Army Delta Force.

  “Hey, thanks for meeting me.”

  “No problem. You decide you had enough of Preston and are ready to come work with me?” Cade smirked.

 

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