Page 12 of This Reckless Home

“SWEET CREATURE” BY HARRY STYLES

BLOSSOM

When I come down the next morning, I’m pleased to find not only is Jus at the dining table eating breakfast with the others, but so are Anatole, Steele and Nox.

“Good morning,” I greet, my smile wide because there’s a warmth inside me at seeing them all here, at my table.

“Morning, Flower,” Steele replies in his gruff voice, using that nickname which turns my insides to jelly. His dark eyes are on me, causing heat to fill my cheeks. He’s in a different t-shirt than yesterday, so they must have gone back to their apartment to grab their things last night.

“Good morning, Steele.” I can’t help the way my voice is a little breathless when he’s looking at me like that, so intently, with such warmth.

“Morning, Bloom,” Anatole adds, and I dart a glance to find his eyes also on me, piercing to my very soul as they seem to always do. It leaves me more than a little flustered, but I’m trapped in them, unable to look away.

“Good morning, Anatole,” I whisper, noting how his fist clenches on his coffee cup. Maybe he’s as affected by me as I am by him? God I hope so, because then he’ll know this confusion too.

“Good morning, Petal,” Nox says, only a hint of the usual sarcasm from him. The nickname makes me startle. It sounded almost, nice. Not like a slur which is what I’ve come to expect from him.

“Good morning, uh, Nox,” I stumble out. God he makes me so fumbling, like a complete wally. He just smirks at me, which only causes my cheeks to burn.

“Can we go to the farmer’s market? Please Miss. Blossom?” Peggy asks from in front of me, a half eaten bowl of chocolate cereal in front of her.

“Yeah, it is Saturday after all,” Anna adds, taking a napkin and wiping some milk off Mitchel’s chin.

“You are quite right, it is Saturday,” I reply, scanning the table and finding only the space between Anatole and Steele is free. “Of course we can go.”

The children cheer, Sally quietly telling Jus all about the different stalls as I take a seat.

Steele places a pot of mint tea in front of me, with my favourite mug and I give him a smile. “You guys are more than welcome to join us, if you want?”

“I’d like that,” he replies, grabbing the plate of French toast and placing a slice on my plate. I watch as he takes the bowl of berries, putting some of those on there as well, and then places the jug of maple syrup next to my plate. “Anything else you want?”

“Um, no thank you,” I reply, biting my lip to contain the smile. No one has ever done that before, fed me like that. And the independent feminist in me is yelling that we can choose our own food. While another part of me preens at the fact that he’s taking care of us.

“I’ll stay back, if that’s okay? Got a few things to sort out and I’d like to hit the home gym,” Anatole says, and I give him a nod and smile.

“Of course. Nox?”

I look past Anatole, at Nox who’s blinking at me. “You want me to come along?”

My skin heats and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to be a normal colour around them. “I mean, if you want to, I’d like that, yes.”

Fucks’ sake.

“Sure.” His tone is bland, like it’s no big deal. But a smile plays around those plush lips that can be so cutting.

We finish breakfast quickly, the children rushing to get ready and chattering with excitement. Once we’re all ready — which is no mean feat making sure everyone has the right jacket and shoes — I give the younger ones twenty dollars each to spend, pausing when I get to Jus.

“Would you like some money to spend? It’s from your monthly allowance, but if you have twenty like the others then you’ll have plenty left,” I ask him, and his eyes widen.

He glances at Anatole, who gives him a small nod. “Yes, please.”

I hand him the cash, and he runs off with the others to get into the van, where Henry is waiting. Nox and Steele follow them, both laughing at the bright yellow colour that Peggy picked when we had to replace the old one.

“Blossom?” A tug on my hand stops me from following them, and I turn just as Anatole brings my hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it.

He really needs to stop doing that. Not only does it burn in the best way, but it completely scatters every brain cell.

“Yes, Anatole?”