Page 16 of The Promise
Chapter Four
I geta phone call from Blake the next morning telling me that he’ll be here at five o’clock on Saturday night and to be ready andwaiting.
Before Cara left the other night, I plucked up the courage to ask her about Jason and his escorting. I wasn’t sure if she’d know anything, but seeing as she has a thing with Nate, she was my only hope—other than outright asking Jason, and that wasn’t happening anytime soon because he’d be sure to tell Blake I was digging. Cara delighted in dishing Jason’s dirty secrets. What Blake said was totally true; he’s a paid escort and has no limits where the woman’s desires are concerned. And although Cara had no idea about Blake also being involved, she was adamant that if he was up to the same, she would have heard about it. Shewasshocked to find out he was doing the more innocentversion.
“There’s no way he’s been doing that. I’d have known, I’m sure of it. It’s a well known fact around town that Blake has kept it in his pants since Kayleigh died; it’s why all the women under the age of forty follow him around with their tongues hanging from their mouths,” Cara’s voice repeats in myhead.
My phone pings with a message from Blake saying he’s on his way, and butterflies instantly take up camp in my belly. At first I think I’m going to puke again, but after a minute or two that feeling disappears. I’ve thrown up enough this afternoon; surely there can’t be any more inme.
I scroll through the conversation we’ve been having over the last few days. It’s mostly Blake asking me how I am, what I’ve been up to, and if I’m ready for the bakery opening. I know it’s only been a few days but I’ve missed him, so much so I’m now dying to see him in real life. I have no idea if that was his intention by staying away but being in touch. If it was, it worked like a bloodycharm.
I go through to the bathroom to check my hair and make up for the thousandth time. It’s not like it’s a blind date or anything, but having not really seen him for a while, I’m feeling the pressure to look the part. He said to dress smart so I had a rummage around in the boxes sat in my bedroom and found my emerald green wrap dress. It hugs my new curves perfectly. I’ve paired it with some simple black court shoes and a plain necklace that drops down into mycleavage.
When the buzzer rings, I blow out a breath through my perfectly painted lips and try to relax. It’s justBlake.
“Hey,” I say, pulling the doorback.
“Wow, Addison, you look beautiful.” His eyes lock on to my cleavage before dropping down and leisurely running over my body. It reminds me of the first couple of times I met him. He ignited my body with just a look then, and it seems nothing’schanged.
“Thank you,” I whisper, because the lump in my throat is so huge. Fuck, I’ve missed him so much. I don’t know whether to launch myself at him and never let go or to just stand here and sob. Deciding I need to pull myself together, I say, “I’ll just grab myjacket.”
“No need. We’re staying in,” he says as he lifts his arms to show me the shopping bags he’scarrying.
“Oh.”
He follows me into the kitchen and puts everything down on the counter. “Here, these are for you,” he says, passing me another bunch of flowers. The last lot are still going strong. “And Sinead thought you’d like this.” He hands me a candle and I stupidly take the lid off to smell it. The scent hits my nose and knocks me for six. I almost launch it across the room in my haste toescape.
“Are you okay?” Blake asks, his eyebrows drawntogether.
“Yeah, it was just strong and took me by surprise. Have you smelt it?” I ask, hoping to deflect hisattention.
“No. Are you sure you’re okay? You look a littlepale.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Cara and I had a little too much wine last night,” I say. I’ve been practising my story all day in the hope it’sbelievable.
“Okay,” he says, but the way he looks at me makes me wonder if I’m as good a liar as I hoped. “Drink?” He pulls an expensive bottle of wine from one of hisbags.
“I’ll get it, you sitdown.”
“Nope, I’m waiting on you tonight. Go and relax, I’ve got everythingcovered.”
“Okay, but could I have a very weak wine and soda?” I ask, pulling an already chilled bottle of fizz from the fridge. I hate the idea of diluting that gorgeous white he’s still holding, but there isn’t much else I can do without revealing the truth, and I’m not ready for thatyet.
“Sure,” he agrees, but he’s still looking at meoddly.
I pull out one of the dining chairs and take a seat. He passes my drink over seconds later, before standing in front of me with his ownglass.
“To fresh starts and honesty,” he says, raising his glass ready to tapmine.
I swallow down the words I know I should be saying. I can’t, notyet.
“To fresh starts,” I say, ignoring the second part of histoast.
“So how come we’re staying in?” I ask as I watch him start unloading the bags before getting distracted by his denim-cladarse.
I don’t see him look over his shoulder at me, so it’s not until I hear him laugh that I know I’ve beencaught.
“Enjoyingyourself?”
