“How is the food?” Ellie asked Greyson after smiling slightly at Blaise.
“Excellent. I haven’t had a meal like this since, well, I don’t think I’ve ever had a meal like this.”
“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
He watched curiously as Ellie glanced over at Blaise, then back at him. The almost imperceptive shake of her head spoke volumes to Greyson. Blaise didn’t like speaking about her parents. She either wasn’t close to them, or—fuck. Fuck! He thought again. If her parents are no longer alive, he just put his fucking foot in his mouth. Big time. Another great impression, he thought disgustedly.
“Are you ready for dessert?” He heard Ellie ask. When he looked up, he saw a spark in Blaise’s eyes. It was the only thing that betrayed the look of pure boredom and skepticism she wore.
“What’s it going to cost me?” She asked Ellie.
“Depends on the size of the piece you want,” Ellie shot back.
“What if I have just a tiny sliver?”
“Then three miles instead of six.”
Greyson was confused as hell by the banter, but entertained nonetheless. Especially when Blaise groaned in protest.
“Fine. If you’re going to torture me no matter what, I may as well have a big piece.”
Ellie laughed. “Don’t worry, Blaise. I won’t make you run. Besides, we have yoga tomorrow.”
Ah. So, Blaise and Ellie run and work out together. And, now he had images of Blaise in yoga attire. Well, that should be enough to add to his fantasies later on.
“Yippie,” Blaise muttered unenthusiastically, inciting another chuckle from Ellie.
“And you, Mr. Steele?”
“Greyson,” he responded automatically, noting that Blaise had still not said his name. “And, I’m not sure if I could eat an entire dessert by myself. Perhaps you could bring two forks with whatever you’re bringing Blaise?”
The look Blaise gave Ellie, then him, coupled with the surprised look Ellie gave him was so comical that he barked out a laugh.
“Blaise does not share her red velvet cake,” Ellie informed him seriously.
Greyson lifted his eyebrow at Blaise in question who said nothing, but the defiance in her eyes told him all he needed to know. “All right. What do you recommend, then?” he asked with a chuckle.
“The red velvet is phenomenal,” Blaise responded almost reverently. “Or, if you’re more of a pie person…” she paused to think for a moment. “Well, all of Ellie’s baked goods are amazing, but I think I’d recommend the apple pie.”
“Fine. I’ll go with the apple pie. You’ll at least let me try your red velvet, right?”
He caught Ellie’s look of amusement and respect. The respect, he mused, was probably for having the balls to ask Blaise to share even a bite of her dessert. He was banking on the fact that Blaise had impeccable manners that wouldn’t allow her to refuse him.
Blaise sighed heavily. “If Mr. Steele is going to insist on eating off my plate, give me an extra—very small—slice.”
Ellie laughed at her. “Fine. Coffee?”
Blaise nodded, but Greyson was wary.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Steele. Coffee is one thing Blaise doesn’t mess with. There won’t be any whiskey.”
“Then, yes. Coffee, please,” he smiled. Greyson waited until Ellie walked away before turning his attention back to Blaise. “Are you really that stingy with your dessert?”
She raised a brow. “Stingy? No. I’m just not fond of sharing. One bite, and you’ll want the whole thing.”
Greyson’s smile turned wicked when he saw the small smile form on Blaise’s lips. She was flirting with him. Finally! “I can get you to give it all to me.”
“That’s a pretty cocky statement, Mr. Steele.”
His lips quirked, and he shrugged. “Confidence is almost required in this world, Ms. Knight.”
“Hmm.” She paused when Jessie walked to the table carrying two plates filled with succulent dessert, followed by Ellie with the coffee.
“Apple pie,” Jessie stated, placing the plate in front of Greyson. “What do I call you?”
“Sorry?”
“What was your rank in the military?” she clarified.
“Oh.” He caught the look of confusion from Ellie. Obviously the young girl had never expressed interest in the military before. Perhaps she has a little crush. The thought amused him. “Lieutenant Colonel. But you can call me Greyson. And, perhaps you could get Blaise to call me that as well.”
He watched as Blaise’s eyes turned from annoyance at his words, to lighting up like a child on Christmas day when Jessie placed the red velvet cake in front of her.
“Thank you, sweets.” She spared Jessie a glance before digging her fork in the moist, cream cheese frosted cake.
Greyson felt his cock twitch as he watched her wrap her lips around the fork, moaning in sweet ecstasy at that first bite. He hardly noticed when Ellie took Jessie by the arm and guided her away. “Are you going to give me a bite of that,” he asked, hoping he had schooled his voice enough that she didn’t know what he was thinking.
“You haven’t even tried your own,” she argued with another mouthful.
“But yours looks,” he lowered his voice, “tasty.” He gave her a satisfied grin when she swallowed hard.
Blaise recovered quickly, though, and gave him a saucy smile as she pushed her plate towards him. “This,” she began, indicating the small ‘extra’ piece, “is all you get. I’m watching you.”
Greyson stopped his fork in mid-air, and gave her a smirk. “I love being watched as I eat.”
He gave her credit for holding his gaze without even a flinch. The only things that gave away what she may be feeling was the slight darkening of her eyes, and flare of her nostrils. But she said nothing. No witty comeback or annoyed retort. She just watched him.
JESUS, I’M IN trouble. Blaise watched him savor the bite of her red velvet cake. It didn’t matter that it was an extra piece, it was on her plate, and that made it hers. She wondered what it would be like to kiss those full lips. To feel them on her body. To watch as he ate…
“I have to go.” Blaise stood abruptly, bumping into Ellie who was making her way to their table with a pot of coffee. The scalding liquid, thankfully, forced her mind off Greyson, and on to her burning arm. “Shit!”
“Blaise! I’m so sorry!” Ellie quickly set the pot down, grabbing the towel she had hooked on her apron. “Are you okay? Let me see.”
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Blaise waved her away, panicking a little when Greyson rose to join them. “I’m fine,” she said again.
“Sweetie, please let me look at it.” Ellie took Blaise’s arm, attempting to push up the sleeve. Greyson stepped forward, and Blaise stepped back.
“It doesn’t even hurt. Ellie, please. I have to go.” Blaise hoped her friend could see the pleading in her eyes, at the same time hoping Greyson couldn’t.
“Okay. At least put some cold water on that when you get home.”
“I will. Give my love to Jessie.” She leaned in, hugging Ellie. “Thank you,” she whispered before hurrying out, completely ignoring Greyson calling out to her. Once she was safely outside, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, then winced at the pain she now felt from the hot coffee. “Damn it!”
Blaise knew that staying there trying to regulate her heartbeat wouldn’t do her any good since she was sure Greyson wasn’t far behind. She started towards her car, groaning slightly when she spied Greyson’s car parked in front of hers. “Of course.” She silently cursed herself when she couldn’t help the tickle of lust that swelled inside her as she thought about Greyson behind the wheel of that car. Or, Greyson grasping her ass as she straddled him, riding him as the car purred beneath them. “Fuck!”
“Are you okay?”
She whirled around, hand on her heart that was beating wildly for a whole new reason now.
“You scared me.” She blew out a breath. “Yes.”
“You ran out of there pretty fast. If Ellie hadn’t explained to me that you don’t pay, I would have thought you ran out on the check.”
She had nothing to say to that. Yes, she ran out of there fast (without paying because she never pays), but she couldn’t very well tell him why. Lie! “I just remembered I had things that I need to get done.”
“And, yet, you’re still out here,” he responded with amusement that irked her.
“Yeah, well. I got distracted by your car.”
“I see. Would you like a ride?”
“God, yes.” She breathed, previous thoughts running through her mind before it finally caught up to here and now. “No! I mean… ugh.” Blaise ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “Your car is amazing, and yes, I would love to be able to ride in it. But…”
“But what? I’m sure whatever you need to get done will still be there when we get back.”
“I can’t go for a drive with you, Mr. Steele.”
Again, there was that shiver that ran through her when he growled. What was that about?
“Why won’t you call me Greyson?”
“What?”
“You insist on calling me Mr. Steele.”
“That’s your name.”
“My name is Greyson.” He stepped closer and she held her ground, refusing to let him intimidate her. “Say my name, Blaise,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
She wondered, briefly, if he could feel the heat coming from her. Could he see her heart beating out of her chest? Could he smell how much she wanted him? Blaise would think about this moment later on when she was alone, and wonder what had come over her. For now, she went with her instincts, running both of her hands over the lapels of his suit jacket. She gripped them, and pulled him even closer. “Take me for a ride… Mr. Steele.”
Oh, the heat in his eyes burned almost as much as the coffee. She was playing with fire, she knew, but she was rapidly beginning not to care. This self-induced end to dating wasn’t written in stone. And, who said they had to date? Sex was good. They didn’t need anything more than sex. The small spark became a white hot flame as he reached around her, his body pressing up against hers as he opened the passenger door for her.
“Get in,” he rumbled close to her ear. She silently congratulated herself for not letting him feel her tremble. Blaise watched his tall, muscular body skirt the front of the car, then sliding in beside her with unexpected grace. “Where to?”
Now that she had had a moment to think, this probably wasn’t such a great idea after all. But she really did love the car. “How about around the block?”
“That doesn’t give me much of an opportunity to open her up.”
She heard it. Of course she heard it. The sexual undertones of his statement. Hell, she felt it. “Around the block, Mr. Steele. That’s all the time I can give right now.” When he nodded, she knew her message got through to him.
They rode in silence, though Blaise knew they were both keenly aware of each other. She would catch him watching her, or see his hand drift towards her as he rested his elbow on the console. She wanted him to touch her, and at the same time prayed he wouldn’t. Her pulse hummed. She reveled in the feel of the buttery leather of the seats, the heat of the man next to her, the rumble of the powerful car. She found herself disappointed when he pulled up behind her car.
“Where are you parked,” he asked, bringing her back to reality.
She inclined her head towards the sparkling black Camaro. “There.”
His grin gave him a boyish look. “You drive a muscle car?”
She raised a brow. “Is there some law that says a woman can’t drive a muscle car?”
“Not at all.” The look he gave her was a cross between disbelief and admiration. “You intrigue me, Blaise. Have dinner with me.”
She gave him a short laugh. “I thought we just did that.”
“A real date, Blaise. One that I don’t have to insinuate myself into. I want you to say yes.”
“Mr. Steele.” At this point, she was using the name as a defense, and she knew it. It frustrated him, but it kept that wall up—as wobbly as it was now—between them.
“This weekend.”
“I can’t.”
“Blaise.”
“I have plans this weekend, Mr. Steele. That’s not a brush-off, it’s true.”
“Another date?”
She heard the bite in his voice. What right did he have to be jealous? They weren’t dating. He held no claim on her. No one did. Ever.
“That’s really none of your business, is it?”
“I’m making it my business, Blaise. I’m interested in you. In order for me to make it a fair playing field, I need to know what I’m up against.”
She blinked at him incredulously. Sure she’d been with arrogant men before, but Greyson Steele was in a league of his own. Normally that kind of attitude infuriated Blaise. For some strange reason coming from Greyson, she found it to be—oh, God—a turn on. Of course, there’s no reason for Greyson to know that.
“You know, I’m surprised you don’t drive an obnoxiously big SUV.”
Clearly confused by the change of topics, Greyson frowned. “Why would you think I’d drive one of those?”
“Well, there’s more storage room for that over-inflated ego you carry around.”
Greyson leaned towards her, essentially trapping her between a rock—him—and a hard place—the closed door that she seriously thought about opening even if it meant she’d fall out on her ass.
“It’s not ego, Blaise. It’s seeing something that I want and fighting for it. Do you have another date this weekend?”
She thought about saying yes. Just to piss him off. But his proximity, the feel of his warm breath so close to her lips, made her brain practically shut down. And that pissed her off.
“I have plans, Mr. Steele.” Blaise congratulated herself for sounding strong, if just a tad bit breathless.
“What plans, Blaise?”
She placed her hands on his chest, and pushed. “Back off. I owe you nothing.” Blaise straightened, opened the door and stepped out. Before walking away, she leaned back down, holding his gaze. “Thank you for the ride. Have a nice night, Mr. Steele.”
Since she knew he was watching her, her stride was full of confidence, and she added an extra bit of sway to her hips.
“FUCK.” GREYSON’S EYES were glued to the sexy-as-fuck sway in Blaise’s hips. He knew she was doing it on purpose, and it did exactly what she wanted it to do. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, watching her drive away. Tonight was a moderate success, he mused. He at least put a crack in that wall Blaise had up. All he needed was more time. But if she had a fucking date this weekend, he was going to have to step up his game.
Greyson didn’t like feeling like the underdog. It wasn’t in his nature to just sit back and see what happens. He made things happen. He was the one people turned to in order to get things done. Whatever Blaise’s plans were this weekend, he wasn’t about to let them come between him and his goal. To get to know Blaise at a very intimate level.
GREYSON SLIPPED HIS ringing phone out of his pocket, muttering when he saw the display.
“Mother.”
“Why aren’t you at work, Greyson?”
He stopped mid-stride in the middle of the atrium of Steele Industries. The massive expansion was tastefully decorated, even if a bit too opulent for Greyson’s tastes. White marble floors adorned the space—imported from Italy, of course—with black veins coursing through the tiles. Floor to ceiling windows curved along the stretch of building, and it was the one thing Greyson loved about the space. Despite the lavish appearance, the backdrop of Los Angeles beyond the windows always made him remember why he lived here. “Keeping tabs on me?”
“You know Preston has an important meeting scheduled with the Madison Group. You should be there.”
“Afraid he’ll screw it up? I’m here, mother,” he said before she could respond. “
I just walked in. so, you can tell Preston to calm down.”
She clicked her tongue in that superior, annoyed way she has. “I have more important things to discuss with you.”
“Which are?” Greyson continued on to the gleamingly clean elevators, pressing the up button.
“The event this weekend.”
“Mother.”
“Now, Greyson, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think this was important.”
And, there’s the guilt, he thought. Had he always been so easily manipulated by her?
“Cade is working security for the event. He asked for my help.” He stepped into the ornate elevator as soon as the doors slid open.
“Greyson Steele, you are not hired help. Whatever your friend needs, he can find someone else. I need you to be Pricilla’s escort. And, I need you to show the Chapmans that your union is strong.”
“It’s not.”
“Greyson.”
“I will be her escort, Mother,” he interrupted. “And, I will be helping Cade at the same time. But I refuse to pretend we are getting married.”
“I’m asking you to do this for the family, Greyson.”
“You’re asking me for something I cannot give you.”
“Keeping up appearances is not such a hardship given the reward.”
“Appearances? You and Courtney are planning a wedding with Pricilla. Is that ‘keeping up appearances’ as well?”
“You could do worse than Pricilla as a wife, Greyson.”
“This discussion is over. When and if I decide to get married, it will be because I love the woman, not because it’ll help your portfolio.” He ended the call, not giving her a chance to rebut. Pricilla was the last person he wanted to be chained to, and certainly the last person he wanted to think about. For now, he would attend this meeting, and hope Preston doesn’t fuck things up.
“THIS EAR PIECE fits snug, brother. It won’t be visible. It’s a little different than what we’re used to in the military.”
Cade tossed the miniscule device to Greyson, and he fit it in his ear. The transmitter was tucked discreetly in his inside breast pocket. He gave Cade a thumbs up when the sound was tested. “Good. Your design?”
Coming Home: An LA Lovers Book Page 7
