by Klaire, Jody
Stephanie chuckled. “He sounds much like Berne.”
“Yeah, in some ways.” I squeezed her knee. “This why Emilie had a fit?”
Stephanie cocked her head.
“Um... Wasn’t happy.” Helped if I didn’t confuse the woman. “Because you may be open to men having a shot too?”
Stephanie stared down at her hands. “Oui.”
“Then, if you need to talk, you’ve got me, okay?” I nodded, hoping that she’d see I meant it. “So what has you upset?”
“I cannot afford to stay in the...” She sighed and plucked more grass. “Caravan any longer.” Her gaze drifted to her Porsche. “I will have to sell my car, and hope that Emilie does not find out.”
I scowled. “What do you mean?”
“She buys me it. She controlled the money.” She plucked more grass. She’d mow the field if she kept going. “I feel like I did as a child.”
“I have a spare room. You can stay with us. That way, you don’t have to move in until the house is really ready.” We had seven bedrooms thanks to Doug and his wish for a rugby team. Besides mine and Rebecca’s rooms: one was a study, one was a junk room and the others weren’t really finished. We could shove the junk in one of the unfinished rooms.
“I cannot accept this.” She smiled a sad smile. “You are very kind to me. Berne is always so. I am unable to give you money, to help.”
I waved it off. “Hey, Rebecca and I are paupers too. Berne will get moody if she finds you sleeping on the front step here.” I stood and pulled her up to her feet. “It’ll be research for when you meet that dreamy English... person.” I winked at her.
Now, after a week of intensive work, Berne, Rebecca and I were sprawled on the sofas; Stephanie was upstairs in the bath, and I didn’t know about anyone else but I could barely lift my eyelids.
“You are all looking energised, oui?” Babs purred from the doorway.
Rebecca snapped her eyes open and a grin split right across her freckled features as Babs strolled into the room, dropping her bags on the floor. “If I could figure out how to lift my arms, I’d throw myself at you.” Her words were slurred. Manual labour would do that to a person.
Babs tutted. “So you will be happy to know that I have a plan.”
Berne, Rebecca and I exchanged glances.
“This like the time you had Berne lie about being in a relationship with Raquel Rocher?” I asked. I still hadn’t gotten over that. Raquel had been one of Berne’s best friends when we’d met. A woman who was now married with children and had never been with Berne.
“Or the time when you suggested Pip and Berne get married on a beach?” Rebecca asked.
Ah, the wonder of youthful exuberance. I’d been all of nineteen and I still wore the ring. Babs had presided because she had known the vows, sort of.
“Or the time when you tell your parents that we are engaged?” Berne asked with a chuckle.
Rebecca and I glared at her.
“You what?” Rebecca didn’t sound like she had the energy for French or even full English so the “what” lost its T.
“What she said,” I echoed, punching Berne who didn’t flinch. “If you tell me that you two were—”
“Non.” Berne placed her finger over my lips.
“I did not tell them, they heard of it and I did not correct them... for a while.” Babs shrugged and perched on the armrest beside Rebecca, stroking her hair.
I held up my finger which took great effort. “Why?”
“I second that,” Rebecca mumbled and I was quite sure snored half way through.
“An ex-lover was from Monaco. I was home. I wished to prove a point so I take Bebe.” She chuckled. “It worked very well, non?”
Berne tutted. “You were hard on her.”
“What did she do?” I was the only one asking because Rebecca was snoring now.
“Breaks her heart.” Berne shook her head. “I tell her that I do not help her again.”
“Mais, mon papa, he hears of it and demands to meet this mysterious lover.” Babs smiled down at Rebecca who was dribbling, mouth open, snoring like Doug. “So I take Berne to meet him.”
“I speak the truth... mais... without the intention to break hearts.” Berne sighed. “I expect him to dislike me.”
“How could he do that?” I shook my head. “Even Doug likes you.”
Berne raised an eyebrow. “I am an artisan. Babs moves in different places, non?”
“He is hard to please also,” Babs whispered. “But he loved her. He often demands I marry her.”
“She’s taken.” I held up my left hand.
Babs chuckled. “Which is what we tell him.” She gazed down at Rebecca. “I want him to like her.”
“My dad does but because she fixed his car.” Back before she’d taught me how to look after them. Rebecca was really handy with cars. “Doubt your dad has a problem with breakdowns.”
Berne groaned and pulled herself up. “What is your plan?”
Babs eyed her. “I wish to use some of my tradesmen to help.” She held up her hand. “You cannot do it all by yourselves, Bebe.”
“Stephanie will breach her contract if you do so,” Berne whispered, glancing at the staircase.
Babs folded her arms. “Because she is not already? Do not think I miss this.” She frowned at the stairs as if wondering why Berne was looking that way.
“Stephanie’s upstairs taking a bath,” I said, stifling my yawn: One of those sneaky ones that catch you off guard and make you spray spit. So attractive. It cracked my jaw for added effect. “She had to move out of her caravan.”
“She was living in a caravan?” Babs stuck her hands on her hips. “Bebe, you did not say this.”
Uh oh.
I shrugged at Berne. “Sorry.”
“It is not right for you to get involved.” Berne shook off her legs, squeezing my shoulder before wandering to the freezer and pulling out an ice pack.
Babs wagged her finger. “Bebe, I tell you I do not like when you do this. I am old enough to make my own decisions.”
This sounded like an old argument. It made me yawn again. This time it was a really big yawn that made me shudder at the same time.
“I will always look out for you. Age is irrelevant. If you start to take sides...” Berne glanced at the door way again. “If Emilie takes over the business, then what will you do?” She was whispering, I didn’t know why because the hairdryer was going somewhere upstairs.
“I’ve postponed my contract with them.” Babs nodded at Berne’s wide eyed look. “If Natalie can be so callous in Stephanie’s own home, I cannot trust her.”
Yay, Babs.
Berne covered her mouth. She had the yawns now.
“What contract?” I asked, pinky in air once more.
Berne and Babs looked at me.
“A project overseas.” Berne hummed away, screwing up her face as if thinking was too hard. “Much effort and money has gone into it.”
“But she’s a pilot.” Couldn’t she just be happy with being rich and clever enough to fly planes?
“She does it only to prove she can run the business better than Stephanie,” Babs muttered, rolling her eyes. “Parce que her face could sell it so well?” She tutted. “It is not so.”
I chuckled even though I tried not to. Berne didn’t like cattiness.
“People hire Stephanie because she is good at delivering, because she picks the right project, because she cares, not for her face.” Berne folded her arms.
Did she really believe that?
“Maybe it’s both?” I asked.
That earned me a glare from both women.
“I mean she is very...” How did I put it without getting into trouble? “She has a trustworthy profile. Like Doug says, ‘a friendly face that puts people at ease.’ It’s essential in business.” Said like I knew all about it. Ooh, that was diplomatic. If only Rebecca hadn’t been roaring away, she could have high-fived me for it.
Berne
smiled. “Perhaps.”
Babs’s raucous chuckle showed how much time she was spending with Rebecca. “If this pleases you, Pepe.”
It did. I wanted to write it down only I was too exhausted to remember what I’d said. “So if you’ve dumped Natalie, who is your team?”
Babs smiled. “Ah, these are very special, handpicked favourites.” She winked at Berne.
“Please tell me they don’t look like models because Rebecca’s heart won’t take it.” I folded my arms.
“Alors, some of them are very pleasing to the eye.” She shrugged. “Mais, most are hairy men.”
“It will delay your plans.” Berne didn’t sound impressed. “It is not wise to do this. You have been working so hard.”
“Oui and it will be worth the wait.” Babs smiled. “Besides, you are not the only one who wishes to help her friends, non?”
I hadn’t the foggiest what they were talking about. “Did I sleep through the conversation?”
Berne motioned with her finger, a sultry smile on her lips. “I will not have you deprived of sleep.”
I got up as if my body was following her command. I didn’t mind but it could have at least asked before moving. Berne or not, it was cheeky. My body and I were both far too easy where she was concerned.
“Are you staying awhile?” I asked Babs. Rebecca was pining and it hurt to see.
“I spend a few days here, then I need to leave.” She roused Rebecca by tickling under her rib, provoking a chuckle. “Come to bed, my love.”
Rebecca grinned a dopey grin and followed Babs up the stairs. She was even easier than me.
“She does love her, right?” I asked as Berne led me up the stairs, ice pack on her arm. Rebecca’s heart beat for Babs. It was lovely to see but worried me. Babs had never been known for long term relationships.
“Pepe, I think she feels as I do for you.” Berne nuzzled in with a smile.
“What that she’s crazy, a floozy, uninterested and intense?” I met her eyes, forgiven did not mean I wasn’t going to tease her about it. “Oh and that she’s going to run off every five minutes?”
“This is not so.” Berne’s eyes twinkled. “I am crazy for you, unable to hold back my feelings, like this floozy you mention, non?” She pulled me into her arms. “I am uninterested in any other.” She nipped at my ear. “My desire is too intense to ignore... et... I cannot run away from how much I ache for you.”
Well that stumped me, didn’t it?
“Do you take classes in charm?” I tapped her chin, attempting restraint. My body wasn’t really listening. Nope, my body wanted to wrap itself around her.
“You feel the need to be taught?” Big brown eyes called to me.
What restraint?
“I’m putty enough as it is.” I leaned in and kissed her. “Let’s go to bed. My feet ache, my back aches, my brain aches.”
Berne chuckled and switched off the lights on the stairs then led me down the hallway.
I paused outside our room. “I want to know you better.”
Berne cocked her head. “Pepe, I think you know every place in my heart.” She leaned in and wiggled her eyebrows. “Mais I am happy to remind you, oui?”
My knees wobbled. “I meant...” I dragged her over to the bed, closing the shutters, just in case. “I meant your thoughts, your feelings, I want to know how you feel, what you want, what you need.” I turned on the bedside lamp, smiling as Berne slid out of her clothes. Even overtired, she could make flopping into bed sexy. “I need you to show me, to talk to me.”
Berne pulled back the covers as I threw on my pyjamas—Berne didn’t do nightwear often but I couldn’t compute going to bed and not being dressed accordingly.
“I try more. It is hard to break habits.” She pulled me into her warm arms, her deep, sleepy voice washing over me.
“Fish-lips had a lot to answer for.” I sucked in a breath. Oh no. I’d said it out loud. Oops. “I didn’t... She was... it’s just—”
Berne kissed me. “They look a little like this, non?” Her chuckle rumbled through me. “Fish lips, Babs will like this.”
“I’m glad you picked me.” I snuggled in. Her skin was soft at the base of her neck, her collarbone was warm. She smelled of soap, of adventure, of something I could only describe as love and I rubbed my thumb over the cross she wore as thanks.
“Pepe, there was no contest. I needed only to know that you feel the same.” She kissed me on the head and I smiled, drifting off to sleep with a chuckle.
Fish lips sounded even funnier in a French accent.
Chapter 10
Early summer bathed us with warmth; fields were tall with whatever crop made my nose itch; the Ardèche twinkled as it danced its way through the gorge carrying the building swarms of tourists à la kayak, and we had spent most of our time whacking dud plaster off badly rendered walls. Whoever Natalie was, she needed a kick up her derriere.
Babs stayed all weekend as she had said but once again needed to leave. She either worked far too hard or had ants in her pants or maybe both. Rebecca had spent a good while moping that evening and not even my impromptu impression of her favourite sports stars had made a difference.
Note to self: trying to serve like a tennis champion needed a warm-up first, otherwise pulling something was a high possibility.
Rebecca stared at her phone and a smutty smile played across her lips. “Man, she’s hot.”
I rubbed my twinged thigh and glared at her. “Don’t mind me then.”
Rebecca looked up as if only just seeing me.
I put my hands on my hips and sighed. “How long will she be gone this time?”
Rebecca just shrugged. Her cheeks were rosy so I could only imagine what Babs had softened the blow with.
Berne and Stephanie bustled in with bags full of shopping. I didn’t know how much of Berne’s wages were left after feeding all of us.
I rubbed at my thigh. What could I do? I’d tried asking for countless jobs, any jobs, but most tourist places had hired their staff and I needed to work on Stephanie’s house too.
“Ça va?” Berne ran her gaze over my thigh.
“Just asking Rebecca how long Babs is off for this time.”
I shook my leg, sure that I’d heard people say, “shake it off.” Yeah, shaking did not help, shaking hurt.
Berne exchanged a glance with Stephanie and both hurried into the kitchen.
Hmm.
“She said she had a few things and can’t really be sure.” Rebecca stared down at her socks and scrunched up her toes. “The project is really important to her... whatever it is.” She sighed. “And I should be supportive, right?”
“Yes?” There was a “but” and I could feel it.
“All I can think of is that I miss her like crazy and don’t know why she can’t tell me about her day.” Rebecca ran her thumb over the screen.
Stephanie shared an, “aww sweet,” smile with Berne.
“Have you told her that?” I asked, trying to catch Berne’s eye—I hoped she’d break ranks and say something but she was “busy” loading the fridge and Stephanie was “busy” handing her items. Berne never let me help load the fridge, neither did Rebecca, something to do with wandering chocolate supplies—Didn’t have a clue what that was about; All rumours.
“You know French women need to be charmed,” I muttered, more for Berne than Rebecca.
A sultry smile played across Berne’s lips. Either she was really into the egg carton she was sticking on the shelf or she was listening.
“I did tell her. She found it cute.” Rebecca rubbed her hands over her face like she was scrubbing her thoughts away. “She must think I’m needy or jealous or an idiot.”
“You are a woman,” Stephanie said with a grin. She pulled out a bar of chocolate and threw it to Rebecca. “All women are crazy when in love.”
Rebecca caught the bar with a smile and all of them looked at me.
I put my hands on my hips. “Berne’s no better than me.�
�
She raised her eyebrows.
“And you...” I scowled at Rebecca. “Have hair that can signal passing ships.”
Stephanie snorted and handed the pack of chocolate to Berne.
Berne pulled out a bar and strolled over, holding it up like bait. “Pardon?”
I eyed the bar. I was strong. I could ignore it—Sweet, chocolaty goodness—I could ignore it. Yup. “I mean it, you’re just as crazy as I am.”
Berne undressed the chocolate—There was no other description for it. She took a bite and I could almost taste it. I didn’t know which I was more glued to, the chocolate or her.
“You think this is so?” She purred—Chocolate smothered her lips; Stephanie and Rebecca chuckled in the background—They knew it was a dirty tactic, and Berne slid her tongue out to lick away the chocolate—It was one of those really yummy chocolate bars that oozed over your taste buds.
“Pepe?” Berne raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile.
What were we talking about? “Yeah.”
“Monaco!” Rebecca sounded like she was repeating herself.
I blinked a few times. “Huh?”
Stephanie’s shoulders shuddered with laughter.
“Babs is in Monaco, right?” Rebecca held up her phone. “She left her location on.”
“That’s stalking, isn’t it?” I frowned. I couldn’t see the phone from this distance. It looked like a white screen to me.
“No, she PM’d me.” Rebecca pointed to the screen. “It’s got her location on it.”
“Oh.” I had no idea. I didn’t do social media. I had no one to be social with. I called or texted or emailed but I doubted anyone would be interested in how Winston had a senior moment or the fact I’d run out of chocolate. Speaking of chocolate, Berne was still taunting me with the bar: Smooth chocolate with a soft caramel inside that trailed strands over your lips, melted on your tongue...
“It’s a personal message, Pip.” Rebecca rolled her eyes.
Stephanie chuckled.
Berne just shrugged, catching the runaway caramel with her fingers. She didn’t do social media either; her phone was a brick and she avoided computers.
