Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“CAN YOU HOLD ME” BY NF, brITT NICOLE
BLOSSOM
Itry to ignore Nox’s cutting words. I know it’s his own experiences and trauma from being in the system lashing out.
It’s not his fault he’s landed on one of my truths.
My father was always distant, and now can’t stand me most of the time, especially since my mother left me her fortune, knowing all too well the type of man she married and wanting to make sure I was looked after and independent after she died.
So Nox is right. I am rich. I do have daddy issues.
Sighing, I lead them through the dining room and out into the garden. It’s not too cold at the moment; spring is almost giving way to summer here in the Shenandoah Valley, and the sun hasn’t set yet so it’s still a little warm out.
I take them down the side path which leads to the pool house up ahead, the pool to the left of us sparkling in the mid-afternoon.
“This path takes you around to the side entrance. I’ll get you guy’s keys cut and the code to the gate, which is just around the side from the front drive. There’s parking here for your truck too,” I tell them, feeling their gazes on my back.
“This is…” Anatole sighs, sounding almost defeated, which doesn’t make sense. “Thank you, this means a lot.”
“It’s no trouble,” I reply, taking the key I’d grabbed before out of my jeans pocket and walking up to the front door. “And I’m sure it’ll help Justin to settle immensely.”
Unlocking the door, I turn to hand it to one of them, finding Anatole right behind me, closer than I expected.
My lips part in surprise, my feet wobbling ever so slightly, but his hand darts out and lands on my arm to help steady me.
It burns where he touches me, even through my sweater, and my mouth goes dry.
His scent of cedar, clean soap fills my nose, and god, it makes me want to roll in him.
You are such a weirdo, Blossom.
“H—here,” I hold out the key, his fingers enclosing around it even as his other hand doesn’t move from my arm.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, his diamond eyes piercing me, leaving me all churned up inside.
Our fingers brush as he takes the key from me, and a puff of air leaves my lips at the contact. It’s like I just touched a live wire, and it’s lighting me up inside, making my nerves sing.
Clearing my throat, I take a step away, his hand falling off my arm as I turn back to the space we’re walking into. It’s bright given the floor to ceiling windows that make up the front wall, though there are gauzy drapes that offer some privacy even when the curtains are open.
“The curtains in here are blackout, as the sofa is also an extra bed. If you need it for when Justin stays over,” I tell them, pointing at the seating while stepping more into the room. “The kitchen is over there, as you can see. It’s all open plan apart from the bedrooms and their en-suites.”
“Wait, each bedroom has its own bathroom?” Nox asks, and I nod, but avoid looking at him. I can still remember the feeling of his judgment, which wouldn’t hurt so much if there wasn’t a grain of truth to it.
“Yep, they’re just down that hall. The bedding is all clean, but I can order some new stuff, and I’ll get Tina to order an extra grocery shop, so let her know what food you like so she can add it.
It won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon, probably at this rate, though perhaps we could get something delivered tonight—”
I stop when a warm hand clasps mine, halting my fingers from wringing together.
“No need for new bedding; it’s more than enough to have a bed each. And we can get our own food as and when we need,” Anatole tells me gently, that damn piece of hair drifting over his eyes again as he tries to catch my gaze. “Okay?”
“Okay, Anatole,” I reply, watching as his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate slightly. When did we get so close?
I step away, taking a deep lungful of cedar and coffee-spiced air, as if I had just somehow forgotten to breathe.
“Um, we like to have dinner together as a family; it’s one of the house rules, actually.
Tonight is Friday, and the kids take turns deciding on a takeaway every Friday.
Noah chose pizza. Do you like anything specific? ”
Anatole gives me a smile, and sweet baby Jesus, he really needs to be careful just throwing those out there.
“Meat feast for all of us, please?” he asks gently, and lord have mercy on my poor lonely kitty cat, but that man begging would stop any world war.
“Got it,” I say, cringing at how much like a teenager I sound.
I’m one step away from finger guns and thumbs-ups.
“I can show you guys the rest of the house after dinner. There’s a home gym you might like, an indoor pool, sauna and steam room, plus a games room and a movie room.
” One of his brows lifts, and I have to swallow hard because now I’m the one wanting to beg him.
Shaking my head slightly, I turn to look at Nox. “A house fit for a princess, right?”
Colour blooms dark under his bronze skin, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck even as a small smile plays around those distracting, harsh yet plush lips.
“Sounds like it,” he mutters, and I chuckle.
“Dinner will be at six, so you’ve about an hour,” I inform them, and they each give me a nod of acknowledgement. “Okay, right. Well, see you then.”
Deciding I’ve been awkward enough for the moment, I turn to leave, stopping short when a hand wraps around mine from behind. My breath rushes out of me when lips press against the back of it, tingles racing across each nerve ending.
“Thank you, Bloom. For everything.” Anatole’s voice is a whisper against my cheek a moment later, a pleasurable shudder skating across me as his breath tickles my skin. Something warm unfurls in my solar plexus at the nickname he so casually uses.
“You’re more than welcome, Anatole.” My voice is hardly a breath, but I swear I hear a rumble of noise from him, his chest touching my back briefly before he lets go of my hand.
I don’t turn around, don’t want them to see how inappropriately red my cheeks are.
“See you at dinner,” I murmur, walking out before I do something stupid like climb one of them like the trees they are.
I’m helping Rachel with some homework on the dining table, a frown of concentration on her tanned face, when my phone dings with a notification from the gatehouse.
“Pizza is here!” I call, helping Rachel pack her things away. She’s all gap-toothed grin, scabbed knees from her latest tree-climbing mission and copper curls escaping her plait as the others all come rushing in, the room instantly turning to chaos.
Anna, with her cloud of dark curls bouncing around her tawny face, Mitchel’s deep brown skin stark against his bright yellow shirt that earned me my very first smile from him when I gave it to him.
Sally looks at me with those soulful brown eyes set in a warm golden-brown face, a small smile tugging up her lips as she leads Peggy in by her hand, pale cheeks flushed pink and white-blonde plaits already coming loose.
They each help setting up the table with plates, napkins, and cups for the drinks. They’re excited, Noah and Sally singing a song about pizza, which frankly makes no sense but has us all laughing, regardless.
The doorbell rings a moment later, and I emerge from the dining room to almost bump into a hard chest.
“Steady, Blossom,” Steele’s deep voice rumbles as his hands grab my biceps to stop me tumbling over.
“Oops, sorry, Steele,” I rush out, feeling all flustered and also not really wanting to go anywhere.
There’s something so safe about Steele, perhaps because he’s so enormous, this gentle mountain of a man who could probably snap me in half but holds me like I'm made of glass.
Whatever the reason, I suddenly want to step into his arms, have them surround me and hold me close, and I have no doubt everything else would melt away.
You’re crazy is showing again, B.
The doorbell rings again, making me jump, and he chuckles, the sound dark and frankly dangerous to my knickers.
“Gotta grab the door,” I whisper, and he nods, his hands giving a small squeeze before letting me go.
“We’ll help,” he tells me, and I smile in gratitude, reluctantly leaving his grip and turning to the door.
With an only slightly trembling hand, I open it up, my lips splitting into a large grin as Don’s freckled face comes into view. “Don! Oh I’m so glad it’s you tonight.”
“Hello, Miss. Blossom,” he greets, his own smile wide, the braces that he used to have gone and his teeth straight and white.
He's filled out since aging out last year, no longer the skinny teen who left but a young man finding his footing. “I see it’s pizza night tonight. Used to love pizza night.”
“It was your favourite, if I remember correctly,” I tease. “How’s college?”
“Hard,” he huffs, but still with that slightly goofy grin of his that made him so endearing as a teen when he lived here. “But it’s good.”
A throat clearing behind me startles me. “Oh, where are my manners?” I feel the heat of someone’s body behind me, the smell of cedar, clean soap and coffee telling me it’s Anatole. “This is Anatole…” I trail off, having completely forgotten Justin’s last name and thus Anatole’s.
“Anatole, Reed,” he finishes, extending his hand out for Don to take. “This is Nox Kane and Steele Vaughn. We’re staying here for a bit with my brother.”
Don shakes each offered hand, and he looks so grown-up it brings a lump to my throat.
I catch Anatole watching the exchange with something like hope in his eyes — raw and a little desperate — and I wonder if he's seeing Justin in twenty years.
A boy who survived the system and came out the other side with a grin and a scholarship.
I feel the weight of what I've been handed here; the chance to be part of that for them.
“Don aged out last year; he was the last one in the pool house you guys are in,” I tell them, trying desperately not to lean back into Anatole. He’s just so damn warm.
“Sweet, that pool house is awesome,” Don replies, then hits his head with his hand. “I should probably get your pizza or the kids will riot.”
I laugh. He’s right about that.
“We’ll help,” Anatole states like Steele earlier, finally stepping away and past me with Nox and Steele. It’s like I can breathe fully again once he goes, but there’s a sudden chill I don’t like at all.
“Damn, you guys order the whole menu?” Nox whistles when Don opens the boot of his car and he sees all the boxes.
“Everyone likes different things,” I tell them as they gather them up, Steele grabbing the bag of drinks. “And they’ll eat whatever’s left tomorrow.”
They bring the boxes up the few steps and to the door, and I reach into my pocket, stepping outside to give Don his tip. Anatole pauses, his eyes on me.
“Aww, Miss. Blossom, you already tipped me via the app,” Don says as I press the hundred-dollar bill into his palm. His eyes bug out. “Nah, that’s way too much.”
“Nonsense, Don. College is expensive,” I tell him, quickly pulling my hand back so he can’t give it back.
“I can’t take it, I got a full-ride scholarship,” he tells me, and I shake my head.
“No takes backs, Don,” I state, and he huffs.
“Fine, thank you, Miss. Blossom. You’re always too good to us.”
“See you next Sunday for Family Day? The children are excited for that game of tag you promised them.” My lips quirk up and he groans.
“Okay, I see this is blood money then. Those youngsters are ruthless.” We both chuckle because he’s not wrong. “See you then, Miss. Blossom.”
“Take care of yourself, Don,” I call as he jogs back to his car, giving me a cheerful wave.
“Why did you give him so much?” Anatole asks as I turn back to the door.
“It’s not right that a few have so much while so many have so little, Anatole,” I tell him honestly as we walk inside. “I have more money that I could ever spend in a lifetime, and every day it makes more interest. I’m obscenely wealthy. So isn’t it my duty to share as much of it as I can?”
His jaw works, his eyes weighing me. “Not many see it that way.”
“Well, I do,” I say. “Now, let’s eat before this gets cold.”
“What’s Family Day?” We’re almost at the dining room when he asks, and I turn back with a smile.
“We have it on the last Sunday of the month. Any of the kids who’ve stayed here and their families, if they have them, are welcome to join us.
Plus, we now have a few who’ve aged out, so it’s nice to keep up with them, makes them feel like they’re still part of this family, which of course they are. ”
His gaze is full of blue fire, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “How?” His voice is a husky rasp.
My forehead creases. “How what, Anatole?”
“How does someone like you exist in this fucked-up world?”
My heart stops at his words, at the pain laced behind them.
“Oh, Anatole.” Stepping forward, I reach over the pizza boxes, brushing that piece of hair which refuses to be tamed like the rest of his neat hairstyle.
His eyelashes flutter over those beautiful blue eyes.
“I’m sorry the world has been so cruel to you.
But all we can do is help make it a better place for those who come after us. ”
His breath shudders out of him.
“You guys coming?” Nox asks from the dining room doorway, breaking the spell that Anatole and I were under, and I quickly move my hand away.
“We'd best help him; those kids are chaos incarnate,” I tell Anatole, a rueful chuckle in my tone.
Turning, his voice stops me, and I look back over my shoulder at him. “Whatever you need to help, whatever we can give. We will.”
My chest swells at his promise, at the help he so freely offers.
Even after everything he’s no doubt been through.
I think of the way he looked at Justin clinging to him in the sitting room.
Of the social worker's strained voice. Of the studio apartment they told me was home.
He's not offering what he has. He's offering everything because he understands better than most what it means when someone does the same.
“Thank you, Anatole.”