Page 62 of Wild Blades

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kali

“Go right at the end of the street, through the security checkpoint, and I’m the fifth house on the left.” Directing Wade to my house has been the only conversation between us since I climbed into his truck.

“I like your truck.” I try breaking the tension. It was hard to miss his fully customized black Ford F-150 Lightning with its yellow and blue flame decals along the side panels. He really does live and breathe being an Eagle.

“Thanks.”

We’ve gone from sharing our secrets and him making me have my first orgasm with a man in over a year, to monosyllabic conversations and are now using the rocking punk beats of My Chemical Romance to buffer the awkward silence.

The words of ‘I’m Not Okay’ and ‘The Ghost of You’ don’t go unnoticed.

Wade stops at security, and I ask Will, the guard, to add the truck as well as Wade to my list of visitors before he waves us through.

Driving closer to my house, I point. “The next one is mine.” Slowing down, he pulls up outside my home. Stunningravine views, fully upgraded everything, glass partitions, soaring ceilings with skylights everywhere, and underfloor heating, as well as a heated driveway to overcome the brutal Albertan winters. I love it. It’s big, airy, but cozy all at once.

“Nice.” He nods in approval at the beautiful house I still can’t believe is all mine.

“It’s even nicer round the back.”

“Yeah?”

“The woman who lived in it before me loved gardening. I haven’t killed anything yet.”

He gathers my bags full of shopping up off the back seat and leaves his truck running as he opens his door and scoots around the front to my side to help me out.

“Thank you for dropping me home.”

“I know you’re tall but use the step to get down.” Holding his hand out for me to take, he clutches my shopping bags tightly in the other. “Be careful. The temperature has dropped, and it might be a bit slippery.”

I love how concerned he is about my safety. “Thank you.” I give his hand a grateful squeeze and reach for my shopping bags.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” He keeps the bags firmly in his clutches and waits for me to lead the way.

“I live in one of the safest neighborhoods around.”

“And one of the richest,” he says, scanning the row of exclusive houses opposite mine. “I grew up a couple of blocks away from here.” He signals for me to move.

“Does your mom still live there?”

“In my grandfather’s old house, yeah. On Westfield Estate.”

Wow. My house cost me a lot of money, but the gigantic homes on Westfield are five, if not six times what I paid for mine, and they very rarely come up for sale.

“My grandfather inherited it, then he left it to my mom. She’s never worked a day in her life.” His voice is hoarse, soundingaggravated. “She could fall in shit and come out smelling like Chanel N° 5,” he adds.

I climb the five steps leading to my wrap-around porch and front door, pulling my phone from my pocket to open the smart lock.

“Fancy.”

“It was installed before I moved in.” It’s clever, but a complete pain in the ass if you ever forget your phone. I did that once and had to wait hours for a specialist locksmith to gain access and that’s why both my sister and my assistant have the app on their phones now.

As the lights on the handle turn green and click, telling me it’s unlocked, I push open the door.

Stepping inside, Wade doesn’t follow me as I tap the panel on the inside wall, illuminating the interior.

“Holy shit.” Wade gasps and I think he’s referring to my decor, but then I realize he’s not. I follow his line of sight to discover he’s ogling the framed twelve-foot black and white image on the wall opposite the entryway. It’s of me, standing sideways, completely naked. I’m not wearing any makeup, looking directly at the camera, my long hair flowing down my front resting on the top of my thighs, revealing a bit of cheeky side-boob. I love that photo.

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