Page 32 of This Reckless Home

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.”