Blade (Archer's Creek Book 3)

by Gemma Weir

  While I eat my dinner, I watch as one of the regular girls makes her way over to Lord and tries to slide onto his lap. His hands immediately lift her back onto her feet and he twists his head and sighs at her. “Shelley, I’ve asked you more times than I can remember not to do that. I don’t want you in my lap, I don’t want to touch you. So please go shove your tits into someone else’s face.” His voice is low and lethal, and without another word Shelley scurries off across the room.

  Shaking my head in amusement, I glance up at Lord whose face is now twisted into a scowl and then I look back down at my plate and continue to eat. When my plate is empty, I lean back in my chair and look at him again. “You know they want you more because you don’t want them?”

  He sighs and brings his glass of sweet tea to his lips, taking a small sip and then lowering it back down to the table. “That may be. But that’s not my problem, it’s theirs. I only want one woman, the one who will be my wife, and that won’t be Shelley, or any of the others who try to get their hands around my dick in the middle of the club.”

  Holding my hands in the air I raise my eyebrows and laugh lightly. “Brother, I was only making an observation. Who you fuck, or don’t fuck is none of my business. Now, you seen Prez about tonight?”

  Lord lifts his hand to rub at the skin between his eyes. “I apologize, brother. I believe he and Daisy left an hour or so ago to collect their ladies from Dove’s sister’s house.”

  My ears prick up at the mention of Nikki. “Grits had her car earlier; do you know why they needed to be picked up?”

  Lord shakes his head. “I don’t know. I was in Anders office when he received a text message and said he had to leave.”

  My stomach churns and uncertainty builds within me. What if she’s sick or if something’s happened to her? Pulling out my cell I write a text to Anders and then impatiently stare while I wait for him to reply.

  Blade: Is Nikki okay? I heard you guys had to go pick up the girls from her house.

  When the three dots appear to say he’s replying, I release a heavy exhale.

  Prez: She’s piss drunk, Grits too, but they’re fine, just need to sleep it off.

  Blade: You guys staying at Nikki’s to take care of her?

  Prez: She insisted she’s okay, but I plan to send Park round to check on her.

  My blood heats at the thought of Park in her house, and before I even decide to, I’m typing a response.

  Blade: Don’t bother, I’ll go.

  I’m shoving my cell into my pocket and standing from the table before Prez has a chance to reply. “See you later,” I say to Lord over my shoulder as I’m already walking away.

  I get to Nikki’s house in less than ten minutes. I barely remember the journey I was so intent on just getting to her. I know rationally that she’s fine. So she had a few too many drinks with lunch, she’s probably eating ice-cream and laughing at stupid TV while she sobers up. There’s no reason to panic, but I do anyway. Using my new key, I push open the front door and silently pad into her house. Jock greets me, his tail wagging enthusiastically until I bend down and fuss him. “Where’s your mama? Go find her for me.”

  He rushes off in the direction of the living room and I follow after him, my heartbeat slowing the moment I set eyes on her. My Duchess is curled into a ball on the couch, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, with a cream-colored blanket wrapped around her.

  Before I can analyze my actions, I stride over to her and scoop her up from the couch and into my arms. She molds her cheek into my chest and her fingers tangle into my shirt as I carry her up the stairs and into her bedroom. Lowering her to the bed I try to pull off her clothes, but the outfit is some sort of all-in-one and I can’t figure out how to get her out of it. I sit down next to her on the bed and stroke a finger down her cheek. “Nikki, baby. I need you to wake up and tell me how to get you out of this outfit.” She stirs but doesn’t wake up. I shake her shoulder lightly and she moans and bats at my hand. Chuckling, I bend over her sleeping body and drop a kiss to her lips. She purrs and a slight smile twitches at the corner of her mouth.

  “Duchess, you don’t wanna sleep in this, so how do I get you out?”

  Her eyes part slightly and when she sees me she scowls, then she laughs and rolls onto her stomach, her hand slapping drunkenly at the zip that runs the length of the suit.

  “Cam, Cam, Cam. I don’t want you. But I really do, I really want you. I’m not alone when you’re here. Don’t wanna be alone.”Her words are slurred from alcohol and sleep, and she’d be adorable if her words weren’t so brutally honest.

  I quickly unzip the suit and slide the straps down her shoulders. “Why the fuck do women wear shit like this?” I curse, as I try to undress her from the stupid outfit. Once she’s just in her red lacy panties and bra, I pull my t-shirt over my head and slide it onto her instead, before stripping off my boots and jeans and sliding in behind her. I cover us both with the comforter and pull her into my arms.

  The moment my body is curled around hers, a sense of peace washes over me. This is what I needed. Her. She makes everything okay and if I have to drive her crazy until she admits that we’re perfect for each other, that’s what I’ll do.

  The next morning I wake up first, and my cock is ready and eager to enjoy my Duchess like I have the last few mornings. But instead, I reposition my cock in my briefs and reluctantly crawl out of her bed. Groaning, I stare at the outline of her body and know that if I were to lift the comforter I’d be able to see all her glorious curves in the morning light. My fingers reach out, but I force my hands back to my sides and instead I step away from the bed and quickly dress, pulling my cut over my bare chest so I can leave Nikki sleeping in my shirt.

  I quietly pad down the stairs and into the kitchen. I set the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot and search her cabinets for a first aid kit. Pulling out a box of aspirin, I place them on the counter and grab a bottle of water from her refrigerator. I spot a pen and pad tucked into a rack next to the phone, so I quickly scrawl a note for her and then make my way back upto her room.

  Since I left, she’s rolled across the bed into the space I’d recently vacated. Her palm is under her cheek and her mouth is slightly parted. I wish I could crawl back into bed and be here when she opens her eyes, but that isn’t the game we’re playing. She isn’t ready to admit that we fit together yet, and I don’t think forcing her to admit that she wants me just as much as I want her would be the right way to go. So instead I place the aspirin and water on the bedside table and prop the note up in between them. Then I lean over her, push the hair hanging across her eyes behind her ear and press a small kiss to her lips.

  “Game on, Duchess,” I whisper as I reluctantly turn and leave.

  My eyes feel like they’re glued together but ,I force them open and instantly regret it. The sunlight attacks my retinas and groaning, I roll over and pull the quilt back over my head. A dull thud is already pounding in my head and a flashback of several cocktails followed by a bottle of wine creeps into my mind.

  “Oh God,” I groan, as I lower the quilt and squint against the bright light. Pushing the t-shirt I’m wearing down my stomach, I shuffle up the bed until I’m upright, my back rested in the pillows. Disoriented, I look around my room and try to remember how I got up here. I remember my sister making me go sit on the couch just before everyone left and I remember thinking that I would just close my eyes for a second before I tidied up and went to bed. But I have no recollection of anything past that. I curl my knees upto my chest and absentmindedly pull the sleep shirt I’m wearing over my legs. My eyes fall on an unfamiliar soft white t-shirt. This isn’t my shirt. This is a man’s t-shirt and its soft and huge and it smells delicious.

  Panic and an edge of fear starts to creep into my hungover, sleepy body. Whose t-shirt is this and how the hell did I end up wearing it? Throwing back the covers I search for my cellphone, but instead of finding it I see a box of aspirin, a bottle of water, and a folded piece of paper with �
��Duchess’ written on it in bold black handwriting.

  Cam.

  I should have known it was him. Who else would break into my house and put me to bed? I bet he slept here too. Reaching for the pills, I pop two out of the plastic sleeve, and take them with the water which is still cool.

  I lift the note and hold it for a moment, filled with trepidation and unsure if I really want to know what’s written on it. I’m not sure what I want or expect it to say, but before I give myself chance to over-think its content, I begin to read.

  Duchess,

  I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you when you woke up this morning. Trust me, you won’t believe how hard it was for me to drag myself from your bed and your beautiful sleeping body, but I thought it was for the best if I was gone before you woke up.

  In case you haven’t figured it out, I carried you to bed and undressed you last night. Don’t be too pissed at me, it was dark, and I didn’t see anything before I put you in my t-shirt. You’re always beautiful, Nikki, but I swear you looked fucking perfect in my clothes this morning when I dragged my ass from your bed.

  There’s a fresh pot of coffee downstairs and I’ve left some aspirin and a bottle of water for you. TAKE THE PILLS AND DRINK THE WATER!! I’ve no doubt you’re gonna have a killer hangover today, so please do as I say and hopefully they might make you feel a bit better.

  I know you’re pissed at me and that I fucked-up by not coming to you the other night, but I swear I made myself more miserable than I could ever make you by staying away.

  I’m sorry, Duchess, and I swear I’m gonna fix this.

  See you tonight.

  Cam.

  P.S. Keep the shirt. I could never wear it again without imagining you in it, and I’d never get anything done with my cock that hard.

  His words make me feel equal parts elated and horrified. I’d never admit it, but I love that he came and took care of me. I know I should hate it, I should be angry that he barged into my life uninvited yet again, but as much as try, I can’t harden myself to him. In the past I’ve dealt with men by becoming uninterested and reminding myself why I don’t want to be close to anyone that could hurt me. But Cam disarms me with every touch.

  Just as I’m dragging my butt out of bed, my cell rings. Groaning, I move as quickly as my tired, hungover body will allow, and grab my cell just as it rings off. “Why?” I cry, clicking into the screen and returning Trish, the realtors, call.

  “Trish speaking,”

  “Morning, Trish. Sorry I missed your call,” I say, my voice husky and tired.

  “Oh no worries. I was just calling to let you know we’ll be closing on the Archer’s Creek house tomorrow, so you should be able to get your keys sometime in the afternoon.”

  Instantly brightening, I sit up straighter and hold the cell closer to my ear. “That’s great news. I’d like to get contractors in to quote for the work I need done ASAP, so I’ll start scheduling appointments for the day after tomorrow.”

  “Okay then, I’ll call you once we’ve closed and the keys are available.”

  “Fantastic, thank you. Speak to you tomorrow,” I say, and end the call.

  The day drags, my body lethargic and unwilling to move any faster. My hangover lingers until well past lunchtime when I force myself out of Cam’s shirt and into the shower. I pretend to discard the shirt, but it conveniently lands on my pillow where I hope his delicious scent will spread to my pillowcase so I can breathe him in as I go to sleep.

  The warm water revives me and once I’m dressed in shorts and a baggy vest, I feel almost human. I spend the rest of the day trying and failing to work. My mind is on Cam and the note he left me. I switch between wanting him to pursue me and wanting him to just go away and leave me alone. He confuses me. I crave the way he makes me feel when he touches me, but I could easily become dependent on him and I never ever want to need a man, any man, especially not a man like Cam. Cam could swallow me up and when he inevitably left, I’d never be the same again.

  When dinner time rolls around, I’m agitated and jumping every time I hear a sound. He said he’d see me tonight and I’m certain he’ll keep his word. I consider sliding the deadbolt onto the lock, but no matter how many times I go to do it, I never actually make it to the door.

  When 11pm comes, I’m exhausted and jumpy. He hasn’t come, and an intense depression has consumed me. I should have known better. I’ve got too involved in him and the game he seems to think we’re playing. After only a few days I’m so wound up in him, so up and down depending on his actions that I already know I’m in too deep. I refuse to wear his shirt even though I want to. I push it to the back of my underwear drawer and pull on silk pajamas instead. When I crawl into bed, I turn the pillowcase over so I can’t smell his scent, then flip it back over and bury my nose in it until all I can smell is him. As I fall asleep I don’t think about Cam or wish he was here, I really don’t.

  I jolt awake when the mattress depresses and a large, warm body curls around me. Suddenly, wide awake, I lurch out of his arms and roll over to glare at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Cam smiles a slow, lazy smile. “I’m going to sleep, Duchess.”

  “Not in here you’re not,” I say angrily, shoving at his chest.

  Cam chuckles and the sound makes goosebumps pebble on my skin. “Settle down, baby, and go to sleep, it’s late.”

  “Settle down? Are you shitting me? You need to leave Cam, right now.”

  His strong arms reach for me, caging me into his chest. Soft lips drop to the top of my head and he sighs like just touching me soothes him. “Go to sleep, Duchess. I’m tired and I just need you in my arms.”

  I want to argue. I should argue. But instead I melt at his words. He needs me. Why is it those three words disarm me completely? Instead of fighting and arguing with him, I find myself falling silent and resting my head against his hard chest. Neither of us speaks and I fall asleep listening to the sound of Cam’s steady heartbeat beneath my ear.

  When I wake up in the morning, Cam is gone. Only the dent in the pillow and the barely there remains of his scent prove he was ever there at all. Feeling disappointed that I’m alone, I look up and find a note in the same place as yesterday on the bedside table and my heart instantly starts to beat quicker. Reaching for it, I unfold it and read the words.

  Duchess,

  You were fucking beautiful this morning, so I left before our angry words could mar the perfection of waking up next to you.

  I wish I could have stayed and kissed you, but I don’t think you’re ready to deal with that yet, so instead, know that when I’m in your bed with my arms wrapped around you, I find more peace than I ever thought possible.

  You are the calm in a turbulent sea.

  You are heaven when I deserve hell.

  You are everything.

  Cam.

  A tremor runs through me from his words. How can I fight against a man that isn’t playing by the rules? He’s supposed to be domineering, controlling, and overbearing. I know how to fight against those characteristics, but I’m completely disarmed by sweet, caring, and honest.

  Shell-shocked, I get up and get ready for the day. Not one single email, report, or statistic holds my attention, and by the time Trish calls me at 12:30pm I’ve worked all morning and achieved nothing.

  “Congratulations, you bought a house,” Trish says, when I answer her call.

  “Thank you, I assume everything went as planned?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, the paperwork is all completed and I have the keys here ready for you. I’m actually headed your way if you’d like me to meet you at the property to exchange the keys?” she says brightly.

  “That would be great. What time?”

  “My appointment is at 1:30pm, so in thirty minutes if that’s convenient?”

  “Perfect, I’ll see you there and don’t forget to send me your invoice.”

  Trish laughs. “I never do. See you in thirty.”

  Ending the call
, I immediately call my sister. “Hey, Sissy,” I say when she answers.

  “Hey, I’m so sorry about breakfast; it totally slipped my mind.”

  “Breakfast?” I ask, unsure what she’s talking about.

  “Yeah, we arranged to meet for breakfast.”

  “We did?”

  Dove laughs. “I don’t feel so bad knowing you forgot too. Although you were pretty drunk when we talked about it, so it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise you don’t remember.”

  I fidget in my seat, feeling bad I forgot a whole conversation I apparently had. “Yeah, that bottle of wine was probably a bad idea, things get fuzzy after that. But I’m actually calling because the sale on the Archer’s Creek house was finalized today. I’m meeting my realtor at the house in thirty minutes to collect the keys. Do you want to meet me there and you can help me decide what needs gutting and what the contractors can just spruce up?”

  “Yes!! Oh my gosh that all went through so quickly. I’m at the club so I’ll get Daisy to drop me off and I’ll meet you there,” she cries enthusiastically.

  “Fantastic, see you there.”

  “Okay, bye,” she says and ends the call.

  With my cell still in my hands, panic starts to rise within me and I frantically scan my lovely house. This place has been my safe haven. I’ve hidden here and licked my wounds. I’ve healed here and figured out how to cope with my life. These walls have seen me grow my business and become successful. They’ve watched me be lonely and alone, but I’ve always been safe.

  So why now that it’s happening, now that I actually own a house in the town that has haunted me since I left, does this impetuous decision suddenly feel so huge and imposing? Yesterday I was just buying another house, but today I’m moving and I’m not sure I’m ready or prepared for that.

  I watch as Dove starts to bounce around like a child that’s had too much candy, and with a chuckle I cross the room to see what’s got her all enthusiastic.