Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“ETHEREAL” BY TXMY, FREYA RIDINGS
BLOSSOM
Monday morning rolls along in all its chaos and I come back after helping Henry drop the kids off.
The house is… quiet. Usually that fills me with a level of peace, parenting is no joke and I’ve found I need some time to be me.
To work on my stuff, though I usually end up getting sucked into sorting all the kids’ things, from after school clubs to sorting outings and holidays.
It’s why I get tutors for the homeschool kids, as well as my acknowledgment that teaching academic subjects is not my forte.
But as I walk through the house, tidying the mess that seven kids leave lying around, I can’t help feeling a twinge. And I can’t help wondering if it’s down to the three guys who stepped into our lives and who I somehow can’t imagine being without.
Anatole leaves ridiculously early every morning to go work at the construction site, taking Steele with him this morning to drop him off at his first day at Chuck’s.
Henry and I dropped Nox off in town at the coffee shop, and while I suspect it’s not what he wants to do with the rest of his life, he seems to enjoy it for the most part.
My heart sinks. They’ll soon have saved enough to find an apartment of their own. A place they can show CPS that will then enable them to take Justin, be the family they always wanted.
And I want them to be happy, just like I want all the kids who come through here to be happy.
Doesn’t stop my heart from sinking at the thought of them leaving, regardless of how little time they’ve been here.
“This was always temporary,” I sigh, moving into the kitchen to grab a drink and maybe one of the leftover muffins Tina made yesterday.
“They made it quite clear that very first day.” I decide my pity party really needs a hot chocolate to go with my muffin.
“Of course they want their own place. They need to support Justin.” I go about making my drink, we have a hot chocolate maker because it’s one of my little treats.
“It doesn’t matter what Steele and I shared Saturday night.
Or that Nox kissed me. Or that Anatole looked like he wanted to.
” My throat thickens as the whirring of the machine comes to a stop.
“They’re going to leave. Everyone always leaves.
And that’s okay.” It would be more convincing if my voice didn’t break on that last word.
“Okay, you get the time it takes to eat this muffin to feel sorry for yourself then you pick yourself up and get shit done.”
“Good pep talk, dearie,” Tina’s laughing voice floats from the kitchen doorway where she’s standing, a bag in her hand. I get up to help her but she waves me off. “Now, you wanna tell me why you feel sorry for yourself?”
She bustles over, in the way only Tina does, plonking herself at the kitchen island.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
She scoffs. “Nothing like you’re worrying those boys might up and leave just like they said they would that first day? Just like you think everyone will? Like your Da?”
My mouth drops open as my gaze flies to her, her soft brown eyes knowing.
“How did you know? Were you listening the whole time?”
She heaves a sigh. “I’ve known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper.
Also, I know what your Da’s behaviour does to you.
Opening old wounds every time he leaves.
” She tuts as my eyes sting at being seen so completely.
“But those boys, and the way they look at you? They’re not going anywhere yet.
Not even thinking about leaving if I had to guess. And you know I’m always right.”
“You really think so?” My voice is small, hopeful and her creased face softens, her weathered hand coming out to cup my cheek.
“I’m never wrong, lass.” She strokes my cheek. “You spend so much time looking after others, making sure everyone else gets what they need. When are you going to let yourself have something just because you want it?”
I sniff, my throat tight. “I’m scared.”
“I know dearie. But being scared of something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.”
I take a shuddering inhale, giving a little nod. “Okay. Thanks Tina.”
“Anytime, lass. Now, go get your hands dirty. The garden always helps you to think straight.”
I give her a grateful smile, getting up and wrapping my arms around her stout frame. “Love you, Tina.”
“Love you back, lassie. Now begone with you!”
I laugh as I put my mug in the dishwasher — I’ll save the muffin for later — before heading out into the garden because she’s right, it’s my happy place.
I make my way to the shed, grabbing some gardening gloves then gaze around at what needs doing.
The old plum tree gets my attention. It didn’t survive the winter, no leaves whatsoever, and is quite clearly dead.
I’ve been meaning to dig it up for a while, then we can dig over the spot it was in for a new raspberry patch.
Those kids eat their weight in berries. Plus it’ll be a good distraction from my swirling thoughts, and help me think through what Tina said.
I choose the tools I’ll need, a fork and spade, plus my saw, swap out my sneakers for my gardening boots, then walk towards it.
With a satisfying sound I begin to dig around it, loosening the soil.
“Gosh these roots go deep,” I mutter, sweat starting to form along my spine under my cotton t-shirt.
I poke the fork into the earth, then grab the saw and get to work reducing it down to just the trunk. We can use the wood in our fire pit come autumn, so I pile it up to make it easier to take it to the woodshed later.
“Right.”
I give it a shove and… nothing. Huffing a breath, and picking up the spade I dig around it more, then wedge the shovel underneath it and… again, nothing.
With a little growl I try again, throwing my weight into it but the bastard thing won’t even budge a little.
I keep digging, keep shoving and pushing, the sun moving across the sky but it. Just. Won’t. Budge.
“Aaahhhh! Fucking thing just move!”
Tears fill my eyes, and I tell myself it’s just the effort I’m having to put into getting this blasted tree out. Why is it so hard? Why can nothing just be easy?
I give one more desperate heave, the effort making me sound like some kind of banshee and—nothing.
“Arsehole!”
“I FOUND” BY AMBER RUN
ANATOLE
“Arsehole!”
The enraged feminine yell has me sprinting through the gate and down the garden path, heart pounding only to find Blossom, slumped over a spade, tears and dirt streaking her pretty face as she digs in the soil like her life depends on it.
It would be endearing, cute as fuck, if she didn’t look genuinely upset.
The look of desperation on her face catches in my chest, and I’m jogging over before I’ve thought it through.
She looks up, her entire face changing, softening as relief floods it.
“You’re home!”
Her words hit like a sucker punch to my solar plexus, and I’m surprised a grunt doesn’t fall from my lips. She’s glad to see me. She needs me, and she called it home. Not back, home. Like we belong here. Like this is where we're supposed to be.
“What’d that tree do to deserve being called an asshole?” I tease, already taking off my check shirt, laying it down on a nearby bench and grabbing the fork.
Her cheeks flush, and she must feel the tears drying on them, because she swipes at them only to leave more trails of dirt behind. I chuckle, grabbing my shirt and bringing it with me, setting the fork in the ground.
“You have a little…” Stepping closer, I use my sleeve to wipe the dirt and tears off her left cheek, then her right. “That’s better.”
“Thank you, Anatole,” she murmurs, and I chuck my shirt back at the bench, heat warming my chest.
“Now, what’s got you so upset you’re harassing this poor tree?”
Her whole face goes red then, and I give her a smile to show I’m teasing.
“I thought I could get it out, it’s dead and I’ve been meaning to do it all spring, but it just won’t budge.” She huffs, gloved hands on those lush hips of hers, and it takes me a moment to remember what she just said.
“Well, I could give you a hand? We could try together? Four hands are better than two.”
Her lips part, then I realize what I just said, and wonder if she’s thinking about what I now am, which is Steele’s and my hands all over her body. Nox’s too if I’m honest.
“T-that would be great. Thanks.” She clears her throat.
Using the spade, I start to dig deeper and she uses the fork to loosen the soil, and soon I’m just as dirty as her.
“Why are you back early?” she asks as we dig.
“Some materials didn’t turn up, so bossman said we could leave early,” I reply, wiping the sweat from my brow on the back of my forearm. “He offered me a permanent position on the crew too.”
“Oh, t-that’s great, Anatole. Congratulations.” I look up just in time to see her smile falter a little, and my brows dip. “I think we may have loosened it enough.”
She grabs the trunk, and I stick my spade into the soil, hurrying round to her side and placing my hands either side of hers, her back to my front.
She stiffens slightly, and I take a deep inhale of her addictive cherry blossom and spring breeze scent.
It has a musky note to it, probably because she’s been working hard and sweating, and it takes effort to control where my mind goes, especially being pressed up so close to her.
“Ready?” I ask, my voice lower than usual and I feel her fucking shiver against me.
“Ready.” Her voice is a husky breath, and Christ I just want to spin her around and crush my mouth against hers.
“On three. One…two…three!”
We both pull on three, and after a moment of resistance, the tree suddenly gives and I’m tumbling backwards, my arms automatically wrapping around her as she falls with me.
A grunt leaves my lips when we land on the earth, and I lie there, stunned as she lies on top of me. My arms refuse to open, even when my mind catches up to the fact I’ve not let her go yet.
“Well, that’s one way to do it,” she chuckles, and I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips upwards.
“Sure is, Bloom.”
She gives a little shiver, which I know is not from cold because I can feel how hot and sweaty she is.
“Um, Anatole?”
“Yes, Bloom?” I pause in taking a deep inhale of the skin of her neck, which I can see still has love bites, one particularly dark and looks to be a bite mark and hickey. Fucking Steele.
Everything was simpler when the plan was just; jobs, apartment, Jus. Now there's her, tangled into all of it, and I don't know how to want the two things at once without one pulling against the other.
“You might want to loosen your grip. You’re squeezing me a little.”
“Shit, sorry.”
It takes a moment for me to do as she asks, but to my surprise, she doesn’t get up, just twists so we’re now facing each other.
Her gloved hands land on my chest, and fuck she looks good on top of me.
Her cheeks are flushed pink from the exertion, skin dewy with sweat, a streak of dirt along her jaw that I want to brush away with my thumb.
“Thank you, for your help. With the tree, I mean,” she whispers, her eyes looking between mine.
“Happy to help anytime, Bloom. Just let me know and I’ll be here, when I’m not working.”
Some of the light dims from her eyes, a small frown on her face that I don’t like one fucking bit. She opens her mouth to say something, but clipped footsteps sound from the house.
“Honey! I’m home!” A man’s voice yells, full of laughter, and her eyes widen before she scrabbles off me.
“Coming, James!” she calls back.
James? Who the fuck is James?