Page 10 of This Reckless Home

My pulse rushes in my ears, the world feeling a little unreal as I stare at her. Her brow dips. “Do you not like your pizza, Nox?” My name on her lips sends a shiver down my spine. “There’s some of the others if you’d prefer?”

Clearing my throat, I look away from her, opening the box and grabbing a piece. “Nah, it’s great, thanks.”

“Tell us about the pizza you had in Italy, Miss. Blossom, please,” one of the girls pleads, and Blossom laughs.

“You ask for that story every time we have pizza,” she chuckles, but they keep begging and she relents. “Well, Tina and I were just walking around, and the streets of Naples are quite dingy but with the most extraordinary graffiti artwork covering the walls and wooden gates, which hide incredible monasteries full of beautiful artwork.” She sighs, and she paints such a vivid picture, I feel like I’m almost walking the streets with her. “Well, we got hungry and came across this little pizza cafe. Plastic tablecloths, plastic cups for water, nothing special, but my goodness, when the pizza arrived…” she closes her eyes, kissing her fingers, and the children giggle, though I’m fixated on those lips. The light catches the fairness of her skin, turns it warm gold, and I have to look away before I do something stupid like kiss her in front of everyone. “It was only when I went to the bathroom that I noticed the Michelin star on the wall.”

“What’s a Michelin star?” Jus asks her, and she turns those stunning eyes on him.

“It’s something that only the best restaurants get, showing that their food is some of the greatest in the world. Very prestigious.”

“Can we go there on our summer break this year, Miss. Blossom?” Noah — the boy who hugged her earlier — asks.

“Oh yes, please! Can we?” a girl adds, Anna I think.

“I don’t see why not. How about we vote? All those who want to go to Naples this summer raise your hand,” Blossom casually replies, like taking trips to Europe is ordinary. I guess for someone like her, they must be. Especially as she sounds like she comes from England. All hands raise, including Jus, even though the kid doesn’t have a fucking passport. “Well, that’s settled then. I’ll start making the arrangements.”

A great cheer goes up that even lifts the corners of my mouth. What this woman so easily gives these kids, who I know have nothing, is… it leaves a lump in my throat.

She turns back to us, looking at Jus. “Do you have a passport, Justin?”

His face falls. “No.”

“That’s okay, I’ll add that to the list to sort out. How about you guys?”

“None of us do,” Anatole replies for us, and my fists clench. Passports are for rich people who have money to waste on holidays.

“Okay, we can get that sorted as well. We just need some ID; it’s not difficult⁠—”

“We don’t have the money to pay for them, Bloom,” he interrupts her, color high on his pale cheeks. She opens that mouth, probably to offer to pay for them, but he beats her to it. “We can’t keep accepting your charity.”

Her eyes narrow in consideration, a small gleam entering them. “A loan then. I'll lend you the money to get them, and you'll pay me back when you can. I’m sure Justin would be much more comfortable having his brothers by his side for his first trip abroad, wouldn’t you?”

“Please, Ant?” Jus says, and I know we’ll do it, for him.

“Fine. But we will pay you back, understood?” Ant grits out, and she nods.

“Understood, Anatole.” Jesus. Heat flashes through me at her easy submission, and by the way Ant’s nostrils flare, it affects him too.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, and I can’t help agreeing.

I watch from the corner of my eye as she bites her bottom lip, clearly trying to hold back a smile.

“You’re a minx, you know that?” I murmur under my breath, watching as her cheeks flush once more.

“Yes, Nox,” she whispers and fuck me. The dinner table is not an appropriate place to get a boner.

The kids start to get antsy once most of the pizza is gone.

“How about you guys go find a movie while I show Justin his room, then he can join you if he likes?” Blossom suggests, turning to Jus.

“Cool. Don’t pick a rubbish one,” he instructs, and I roll my eyes. That kid has more attitude than even I do, and that’s saying something.

We help her clear up, putting the leftover pizza in a few boxes and carrying them into the kitchen. It’s my first time here and once again my eyes feel like they’re bugging out of my head at how shiny and fucking huge it is. There’s everything someone could want, plus some gadgets I’ve never even seen before, so who the fuck knows what they do.

Tina helps, then tells us she’ll supervise the kids while we go look at Jus’s room.

We follow Blossom down the hall, back to the entrance with the fuck-off chandelier. She leads us up the central staircase, telling us that the house is Victorian, was built by her great-great-grandfather, and that her mother left it to her in her will. Apparently she died when Blossom was only five, so she has very few memories of her.