Bancroft - Peaky Blinders Reverse Harem x Reader

Chapter 38

But still Tommy makes no movement to stand to his feet. I wait with bated breath, fearing this moment ending, the spell breaking.

"What is it?" He asks, searching deeply in my eyes.

"You're not moving," is my only response.

He blinks, soft eyelashes moving in the fading light. "Because you look distraught."

"I don't know what you mean," I lie.

His hand is firm against my arm. "Tell me," he whispers, pressing his lips to my ear. "What is it?" His voice is tight as he speaks again. "Do I scare you?"

I shake my head. "Not in the way I think you mean."

"Ah," he says softly. Then, holding both my hands to help me up, he stands. "Come with me. You'll like this."

His hand doesn't leave mine the whole drive back to Small Heath. Every now and then he'll bring my hand to his lips, sometimes kissing me softly, sometimes just breathing into me.

"Stay here," he says as we reach the house.

I wait as he carries a large duffel bag from the house and swings it into the back of the car. We drive once more, crossing a bridge over a deep creek, and winding up a logging road to the top of a large mound of a hill. The grass is bright green, and everywhere I look there's a view of the countryside.

"We're here," he says.

He opens the door and helps me out of the car once more. I stop walking as I see the sight before us, my hand falling to my side, still holding his own.

A tent's already been set up, larger than the one we shared last time. There's a campfire expertly laid with sticks, just waiting for a match.

"I brought sausages," Tommy says, holding up the duffel bag. "And I thought we could see the stars out here. Make a night of it. I'd hoped to bring the horses, too, but that'll have to wait until you're healed."

My throat is too tight to speak. He'd listened. And he cared enough to do all this, for me. For us. Nobody has ever paid attention before — not like this. After a lifetime of speaking and being told to shut up, or being dismissed... Thomas Shelby has brought this to life.

"Sorry they're not buttercups," he continues, in reference to the daisies across the ground, mistaking my silence. He clears his throat. "If you don't like it, we'll go home. It might be too soon while you're hurt."

I shake my head, tearing my gaze away to look at him. "It's perfect," I whisper.

My arms wrap around his waist and he holds me.

"Let's get this fire started, before the rain comes," he says.

The clouds are getting darker, and I worry the rain will fall sooner than we expect. But it holds off as Tommy shows me how to light the fire, explaining why the wood's arranged the way it is. I listen attentively, placing more kindling as he asks me to, and soon we have a fire crackling, eating away at a bigger log of wood.

I pick at daisies as we sit on a pile of blankets. Tommy's smoking a cigarette, his face unusually relaxed and carefree. I thread the daisies through each other, just as I did when I was a child, wasting hours in the garden as my escape. Tommy watches as I carefully tie them together into a circle, holding the flower crown in my hands.

Before he can protest, I reach out and swipe off his cap, replacing it with the flowers on his head. He raises his eyebrows at me, trying hard to look unimpressed, but a smile spreads across my face at the sight.

He shakes his head, once more turning away as he fights off a smile. "Show me," he says, pulling a daisy free from the ground.

And so, with his cigarette between his lips, I move my hands across his own, guiding his fingers to connect flowers in a chain. He wraps it around my wrist, tying it off in a bracelet.

"Now we match," I tell him.

A rumble of thunder comes from the distance. I frown, wondering if I imagined it, or if it's some far-off steam train.

"Time for dinner," Tommy says, confirming my thoughts.

He finds us a stick each, and we push the pork sausages on and hold them over the fire.

"My favourite food," he says.

I glance at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Does that shock you?" He asks, pulling away his meat once it's cooked.

I nod. "Though, I don't know what I expected."

I bite into my food. Tommy raises his eyebrows expectantly, awaiting my verdict.

"They're good," I say, surprised as the light herbed taste explodes across my tongue . "From the same butcher?"

Tommy nods. "I had him make them fresh."

When we finish eating, he sips from his whiskey flask. I hold my hand out expectantly. He relents, passing it to me, and my mouth is full of the taste of whiskey before I hand it back.

"Lucky timing," he says, as the first thick droplets of rain begin to fall. Amazingly, he manages to light a cigarette in the rain. "Are you going to tell me why you didn't want to leave, earlier?"

I lean back on my arms. "I didn't know we were coming here," I say. He waits for me to continue. I glance down, biting my lip. "I didn't want it to end. I..."

I make the mistake of looking into his eyes, and forget everything I'd been about to say. With flowers still adorned across his head, he throws his cigarette into the fire, and then moves his body next to mine.

"Anything," he says. His lips trail a hot path along my skin. "Anything you ask for, I'll give you."

My head tips back in the rain. "You," I say. "You're all I ask for... you're all I want."