“Preston, enough!” Nora’s voice reverberated throughout the massive room. “We have enough to worry about without you losing control because of your bruised ego.”
Preston glared at his wife, but dutifully stopped his advance. Greyson was sure being under Nora’s thumb just killed his father, and he struggled to hold in his self-satisfied grin. Sure, he loved the money. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much money or how many toys he had, there was always something missing. At almost forty years old, he should know by now what that is. And, perhaps he did. The only thing left to do is make it all happen.
“Greyson, you are our son and we need your help.”
Nora almost sounded desperate, but Greyson knew better. He knew she could turn on the manipulation when she needed to.
“I’m doing my duty at the company. A company I really want no part of. I draw the line at my freedom. I will not marry Pricilla.”
“We need heirs, Greyson.”
“What is this? The royal fucking family? You don’t need heirs, you want them. Anyone could take over Steele Industries, and it would still be yours. But if you want grandkids so desperately, Courtney can have them.”
“They will not have the Steele name,” Nora countered angrily.
“I don’t care, mother. I’m not marrying some bitch I can’t stand just because you want grandkids with the Steele name. If I ever have kids, it’ll be with someone I want to be with.” Greyson ran a weary hand over his face. “I’m giving you what you want by staying with the company. That’s as far as I go.”
Nora sighed dramatically. “Can you at least take Pricilla to the gala this coming weekend? I’ve already told the Chapmans you two would attend together. Keep up appearances until we can figure something else out, Greyson. Please?”
Shit. He hated that he felt enough guilt to give his mother what she wants. Nora knew nothing but this lifestyle. Greyson didn’t think she’d survive if she lost all of this. If that really was a possibility, he’d do what he could to help her.
“I’ll think about it. That’s the best I can do,” he said, interrupting the protest he knew was on the tip of her tongue. “Goodnight.”
GREYSON PUSHED HIS palms against the tiles of the shower, hanging his head in the warm spray. His thoughts, as per usual today, turned to Blaise Knight. What was it about the petite brunette? Yes, she was beautiful. But he’d seen beautiful women before. Hell, he had been with beautiful women. Yet, none of them had made him feel half as unsettled as Blaise did. None of them made his dick hard just thinking about her.
“Fuck.” He fisted his hardened shaft, pumping with vigor as images of Blaise naked, Blaise on her knees, Blaise’s sexy, writhing body beneath him. He grunted as he felt his body respond at the thought of being inside her. Greyson closed his eyes, seeing Blaise’s eyes, that beautiful golden whiskey color, as clear as if she were standing in front of him, and came with a ragged groan.
He slumped against the cool tiles. Greyson had taken Ellie’s warning and stayed away tonight, giving Blaise space. But tomorrow. Oh, tomorrow was going to be different. Blaise would know just how interested he was. And, he would hear her say his name.
BLAISE GAVE THE coffee carousel a spin. “Mmm, French Vanilla,” she murmured, plucking it from its place. She went about the mundane actions of making the perfect cup of coffee, then took a careful drink. “Yummy.”
She knew this would possibly be one of multiple cups since she didn’t sleep well the night before. Plopping down in her chair, she sighed. Greyson Steele would not leave her mind, and it made for unsettling—yet, extremely hot—dreams. Blaise wasn’t accustomed to random men practically commandeering her brain, and it was beginning to piss her off. She figured she’d keep telling herself that instead of the truth; that she enjoyed thinking about the man.
“Ms. Knight?”
Blaise chuckled softly. “Yes, Mer?”
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Blaise stood, straightening her t-shirt before pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail. She knew a lot of store owners preferred to look more professional, but she wanted her customers to feel comfortable. She had tried the uptight business suits, went to business casual, and then settled for casual because her clients were more relaxed. More relaxed meant more receptive. More receptive meant Blaise could be as creative as she wanted. Of course, there were always exceptions. The richer they were, the less receptive to her casual attire. She just didn’t care enough to change for them.
Blaise saw the young woman standing in the middle of the shop. She detected a small smile on the raven-haired beauty as she scanned the arrangements Blaise had prominently displayed. She was proud of those specific arrangements, and she hoped the young woman enjoyed them as well.
“Excuse me? I hear you’re looking for me?” Blaise asked.
She turned towards Blaise, who was immediately struck by girl’s unusual eyes. They were so light; Blaise would almost say white. Could that be possible? There was a bit of color around the irises, but Blaise didn’t want to seem too rude by staring so intently. Though, perhaps it would’ve been fine since the girl was making her own inspection of Blaise. Girl, Blaise thought. She couldn’t be more than eighteen, but there was something about her. An old soul. Blaise grinned, allowing the scrutiny.
“You were looking for the owner, correct? My name is Blaise Knight.”
The young woman took Blaise’s outstretched hand and smiled. Blaise was struck by her unique allure. Working with flowers everyday gave Blaise a deep respect for the beauty in life, and this girl was no exception.
“Ana. I read on your website that you crossbreed?”
Well, she certainly didn’t waste time on niceties, Blaise mused. Most teenagers were in a hurry, but this seemed to be a hurry of a different kind. So, Blaise wouldn’t delay either.
“I do, yes. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Um…”
Blaise frowned at the perplexed look on Ana’s face. It seemed so misplaced for some reason.
“Why don’t we go to the back for some privacy?” Blaise suggested, turning abruptly to go back to her office. “You’re from England?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been in the States?”
“A while now.”
“Not much of a talker are you?” Blaise chuckled lightly. “I’ve been here for about four years.” Okay, so I fibbed a little. But I’m sure she’s not interested in knowing you went to University here before that awful decision to go back to New Zealand for a while.
“Do you miss New Zealand?”
Blaise stopped abruptly and turned to her customer. She was surprised by her astuteness, though she felt she shouldn’t have been. “Not many people place the accent. They usually confuse me with being an Aussie.”
“Perhaps it’s because I’m a foreigner myself,” Ana suggested with a small shrug.
“Hmm. Please sit.” Blaise gestured to the chair in front of her desk, mentally patting herself on the back for having taken the time to clean up a bit. Sitting herself, she leaned back and waited for her potential client to begin. Blaise always waited. She didn’t want to influence customers in any way, wanting to hear their authentic first desires.
“What I need may be impossible,” she began, her English accent striking Blaise as much more old school than the modern dialect she hears today.
“Nothing is impossible,” Blaise smiled, intrigued.
“Even if it’s been extinct for a long time?”
Now completely enthralled, Blaise immediately leaned forward. “Well, that may be tough, but not necessarily impossible.”
“I’m looking for a flower that was developed in the 1400s.”
“Developed? I’m to assume that it wasn’t a product of nature?”
“Correct. Medicine men of that time created the flower to assist them medicinally.”
Blaise tilted her head, her brows furrowing a bit. “Many flowers, plants and herbs
were used medicinally. Which one are you looking for?”
“The Blood Orchlip.”
Blaise’s heart beat a little faster, and her eyes widen a bit with excitement. No way. She couldn’t hold back her smile. “I didn’t think anyone other than myself knew of that flower.”
“You know it?”
Blaise detected the surprise in Ana’s expression before popping up from her chair to go to her bookcase. She brushed a finger across the spines of the books, then found the one she wanted. She flipped through the pages as she brought the book back to her desk.
“I have what many say is an unhealthy obsession with the history of plant life. I’ve read pretty much anything I could get my hands on, going back as far as… well, the era you speak of.” She flipped the book around for Ana to see the small article on the Blood Orchlip, and watched her extraordinary eyes light up, making them impossibly lighter.
“Can you recreate them?”
“I don’t see why not. I can at least try. May I ask why you need them?”
And, just like that, it was like shutters came down on those eyes, causing them to darken a bit.
“You know what?” Blaise began, not willing to risk this amazing opportunity because of her nosiness. “It doesn’t matter. It’ll be a challenge for me, and I look forward to it.”
As relief passed over Ana’s face, Mer poked her head in the door. “Ms. Knight? Mr. Steele is here to see you.”
Blaise barely managed to bite back the groan that was a mixture of dread, excitement and pure, unadulterated lust. It was the lust part that made Blaise feel flush. “Ugh. Tell him I’m busy, please, Mer.” She plucked a ‘flower’ from the vase on her desk. Small florist joke, she thought, as the ‘flower’ was really a pen. She caught Ana’s small smirk, and smiled. “Why don’t you write down your information for me, and once I know for sure if I’m able to do this for you, I’ll contact you. Of course, if I’m not able to recreate the Blood Orchlip, I won’t charge you.”
“No, I insist on paying. Please, money isn’t a problem.”
“Look, it’s a thrill for me to even try this, so I refuse to charge you if it doesn’t work. That’s my stipulation.” Blaise smiled so Ana would know she was joking. Well, half-joking at least.
“Very well, I agree. I can’t thank you enough for this. If you can pull this off…”
Ana’s voice trailed off, and Blaise wondered once again why this young woman, yet old soul, needed these particular flowers.
“It’s my pleasure. Believe me. This is exactly the reason I got into all of this. It’s fascinating to me.”
Ana grinned, and Blaise found it to be charming. The girl actually looked like a young girl then. She followed Ana out, almost reluctantly since now she had no excuse not to talk to Mr. Steele. She laughed softly as Ana, obviously in a hurry, almost ran into someone coming into the store as she was going out.
“Excuse me. I am sorry.” She heard Ana mutter.
The someone made it through the door, and Blaise couldn’t help but stare. The blonde woman was absolutely stunning. And, the man with her? Holy crap. He’s about as hot as Greyson! She immediately chastised herself for that thought, especially since Greyson sidled up next to her. She spared him a glance, before turning her attention back to the couple, and what had to be the cutest little girl ever. The woman looked at Ana curiously, then continued inside the shop.
“Blaise? Could we talk?”
Greyson’s deep voice penetrated Blaise’s thoughts, and she shivered involuntarily. Fantastic.
“I wish I had brought my camera.”
The blonde woman’s sensual voice—sensual was the only way Blaise could describe it—brought her attention back to more potential clients.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Steele, I’m busy,” she murmured, and went to greet the newcomers. “It was her eyes, wasn’t it?” Blaise asked the gorgeous woman, and was taken aback when light gray, confident eyes turned towards her. Nerves got the better of her, and she began to babble. “I deal with beauty every day, and I’ve never seen anything like them.” Blaise stopped, and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I’m Blaise Knight. I own this shop,” she explained, holding out her hand in hopes she hadn’t offended anyone. She watched, almost mesmerized, as a perfect eyebrow raised.
“What an interesting name,” the sultry alto voice responded. “Eve Riley. This is my husband Adam, and our daughter Bella.”
The man, Adam, nodded politely at Blaise, but her eyes went directly to the little girl in his arms.
“Oh, she is precious!” Noticing that they were still standing in front of the door, Blaise turned abruptly and motioned for them to follow. “What can I help you with?”
Eve’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m trying to detect your accent. Australian?”
“Kiwi,” Blaise smiled. “I’m from New Zealand.”
“Blaise?”
She almost winced at the sound of Greyson’s voice. She hadn’t meant to be abrupt or rude to him before, but she did have a job to do. Yes, Mer was available, but still. It was her shop. However, Blaise found it rude of him to interrupt her conversation, and unfortunately that brought out her impolite side. Again.
“I’m busy, Mr. Steele. I have customers.”
“Fine. I’ll be back.” Greyson nodded at the couple, and took off.
“Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem,” Eve chuckled. “I’m actually looking into buying the establishment next door, so I thought I’d stop in and get to know the neighbors.”
“Oh? That’s fantastic! Unless you’re planning to open another flower shop,” Blaise joked, secretly hoping that wasn’t the case.
When the couple laughed, Blaise thought how perfect they were together. It was an odd thought to get from only hearing laughter, but it struck true, nonetheless.
“No, though I do deal with beauty, as well. It will be an art gallery.”
“Now that is fantastic news. I love art,” Blaise smiled genuinely.
“Your flowers are quite beautiful,” Eve complimented, looking around the colorful, fragrant shop. “I would love for you to do the arrangements when we open.”
“Really? I would be honored! Let me get some information from you, and give you my card. We’ll get everything set for when you need us.” She led Eve to the counter where she could get a piece of paper, and a card. Blaise heard a small giggle, and glanced up to see the tall, beautiful man pointing flowers out to his daughter. How sweet, she thought wistfully, then shook the thought right out of her head. Poising the pen over the paper, she turned back to Eve. “What will the name of the gallery be?”
“Sumptor Gallery, LA,” Eve answered. Pride clearly evident in her voice.
“Oh my God, you’re Eve Sumptor? I thought you looked vaguely familiar. I’ve been to some of your galleries. They’re absolutely amazing!” And… she was blabbering again. But who cares! Eve Sumptor was in her shop! Blaise had seen some of Eve’s work, as well, and it was nothing short of spectacular.
“Thank you. Perhaps you could attend the opening?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“Well, now that I have the flowers covered, I can move on to catering next,” Eve said absently as she wrote down her information for Blaise.
“Oh, I can help you with that, too!”
“You’re a caterer as well?” Eve asked with amused skepticism.
Blaise chuckled lightly. “Oh, no. I can cook, but certainly not well enough to cater for Sumptor Galleries. My friend owns the diner on the other side of your potential gallery…”
“Ellie!” Eve interrupted, startling Blaise.
“Yes. You’ve met?”
“We stopped in the quaint little diner before coming here. The food was delicious. The pie, however, was magnificent.”
“Yes! Though you haven’t lived until you’ve tried Ellie’s red velvet cake.” Blaise’s eyes rolled back in bliss just thinking of her favorite cake.
“Sold,” Eve chuckled. “I didn’t realize the diner catered, but Ellie is a doll. And, it certainly sounds better than sitting through tasting after tasting of pretentious ‘froufrou’ food.”
Ellie is either going to kill me, or love me forever. Blaise thought as this was the second potentially huge event she had recommended Ellie for. Catering was not something her friend normally did, but Blaise couldn’t help herself. She believed in Ellie’s skills that much.
DAMN IT. GREYSON sat in the small park across from Blaise’s shop. He had meant to talk to her. To charm her into having dinner with him. Or at least lunch. Anything, he thought grumpily. But she didn’t even give him a chance. In fact, Blaise had given him the cold shoulder. Had his first impression been that bad? He ran his hands through his hair, then scrubbed at his stubble that was getting to be a little too long. Time for a shave. And, time to get a little creative when it came to Blaise Knight.
Nothing he can do about it now, he thought. It probably wasn’t a good idea on his part to show up at her work. But after his sleepless night, he hadn’t had the patience to wait.
“Stupid,” he muttered. He hadn’t even gone into the office today. Greyson couldn’t find the motivation to deal with Preston today. Especially after Greyson’s conversation with his mother the night before. It was Preston’s fault that Greyson was stuck in the family business he had no interest in. If the damn bastard knew what the hell he was doing, Greyson would have been able to retire from the Army, come back home and work with Cade. And, nobody would be breathing down his fucking neck to marry some bitch for the sake of the family name.
The signaling of Greyson’s phone brought him out of his thoughts. “Yeah?” he barked.
“Bad day, brother?” Cade’s deep, amused voice came through.
Greyson thought about not getting anywhere with the striking Blaise again. “Not the greatest. What’s up?”
“Have a job this weekend. Could use your help.”
Interest piqued, Greyson sat up. “Yeah? What’s the job?”
Coming Home: An LA Lovers Book Page 5