Berry Flavours Page 7

  “And which lady is great-grandma?”

  “She’s the regal one third from the left. Esther Beresford.”

  “She is that.” Clancy peered in and focused on a slim dark-haired woman whose striking features would have attracted many a suitor of the day. Or, any day. Classical beauty. She knew Berry was close, caught his scent as if his personal warmth had a signature.

  Berry’s hand came over her shoulder and he pointed at another photo, and a stern looking character seated beside a woman. “That’s Phillipe there with his second wife. We don’t have any pictures of him with Esther. The second wife is Greg’s great-grandmother.”

  “Did Esther die young?” Clancy felt a thrumming on her back. Berry’s heart must be pumping as loudly as hers and it vibrated between them. She breathed in and out deliberately slowly, otherwise she was sure she’d lean back on him and the moment would be spoiled.

  “In her thirties. My grandmother was only a young child, six or seven. She found the photo not long after Esther died and she hid it away. It’s the only reason we have it. After Phillipe remarried there were other kids, other priorities for him and the new wife.”

  He stood closer, but his hand retreated. Clancy turned around and stood just under his chin. She could see the beard stubble, imagine its coarseness under her fingers. Over her body and down...

  His hand slid down her arm.

  Moments stilled and the heat hummed between them, tangible and connected. She didn’t want to move, either to break the spell or to act upon it. But as she looked up the green eyes roved over her face and she had to ask, “Is this a good idea?”

  Berry shook his head once as his hand found hers. “No.” He stared down at her. “Best I get the stuff for your bed.”

  Clancy dropped her gaze to where his T-shirt showed under his shirt. A pulse at his throat was pumping strongly. “Right.”

  Don’t make a mistake here, Clancy. Step away from the man. Get the bedding and run. Run.

  She smiled at him. “Right,” she repeated and let her hand gently disengage his. “Point me in the right direction of some fresh linen and I’ll follow the path back to my room.”

  Berry turned and disappeared for some moments. Clancy took a deep breath and tried to figure the next best step she could take. Be calm and rational and together; or be herself and leap on him with a frightening fervour.

  Be calm and rational.

  He returned with two folds of linen, and his nose screwed up.

  “There’s only one thing to do.” He unfolded them in front of her. “I’m going to load them in the machine and toss them in the dryer here and in about an hour they’ll be fresh. Okay?”

  Reprieve.

  “Okay. Sounds good.”

  “So, stay here, pour some drinks. I’ll put the load on and be back.”

  They were grown-ups, right? They should be able to sit on the settee and bump shoulders, nudge knees and press hands. Or they should be able to stand by the fridge together and laugh at dumb jokes and brush locks of hair from the other’s eyes without feeling there was anything untoward going on.

  They should be able to open another bottle of wine because the first one was consumed without either of them noticing.

  They should be able to go together to the laundry and gaze at the whitegoods doing what they’re supposed to do and return to the settee content the linen would be dry in a very short space of time.

  Each time she chanced a look at Berry he was doing the same at her.

  Then they’d grin, hold hands again, chat about nothing and stare out of the windows into the darkened night.

  She felt like it was a tempest being held in a teapot, and she didn’t want to be the one who lifted the lid and let it out. It might be something she couldn’t control.

  At the same time they heard the alarm go off on the dryer, they both saw the bob and dim of car lights coming on to Berry’s property.

  He glanced at his watch. Nine-twenty. “Who—?”

  “Won’t be for me, that’s for sure,” Clancy said and hoped she hadn’t sounded fuzzy. His wine was delicious, so easy to drink but she was sure it had a big impact on her sobriety. Still, she felt nice. Nice, nice, nice. Not drunk as a monkey. “I’ll get the linen.”

  By the time she returned with the warm sheets folded in her arms, Berry was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Rommy, nor the lights of the car. The other thing she couldn’t see was the light in her bedsit which they had clearly been able to see from Berry’s lounge.

  Odd.

  Now clouds covered the moon and the light completely gone, she was not going to attempt to find the path and head down to her bed. She’d wait for Berry.

  She’d find coffee and brew a pot. Maybe he had some cheeses stashed in the fridge and she’d find some crackers in the panty, some olives, some figs somewhere perhaps...

  She had her head in the near empty fridge when Berry and Rommy walked back into the house.

  Berry dropped her handbag just inside the door. “It was Greg Thomas.”

  Clancy straightened. “What?”

  “Greg. Seems he came to find you, to talk some sense into you and get you to return to their place.” Berry stood by the long timber bench. “Looked like he’d been drinking pretty hard, on or off his medication – I don’t know which – then he took an almighty swing at me and passed out,” he said and spread his hands, “on top of the musty sheets in your bedsit.”

  Clancy stared at him.

  “I’m going to get the car, go down and pick up the rest of your stuff while he’s out like a light. I’ll be back in ten.” And he left again.

  Clancy stared after him, aware she could possibly resemble a gaping fish. She turned around in the kitchen, not able to concentrate on the coffee, or getting together a plate of something for a supper. She was aghast Greg Thomas had driven on to Berry’s property in search of her.

  This was becoming more than weird.

  Berry returned with the wheelie bag and with complaints about its weight, her backpack and the laptop. “I took his car keys and hopefully he’ll sleep till morning. If he’s not good by then, I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “I’m… I’m dumbfounded.”

  Berry nodded. “I’m guessing without Mac at home he got a little spooked. He’s not great on his own at the best of times.” He glanced at the attempts at coffee and supper. “Sorry there’s not much in the house. I could go back down to the restaurant and grab a few things.”

  Clancy shook her head, dazed. “But Greg?”

  “He’s got a few problems. He can sleep this lot off. ” Berry looked at her. “No question now of you going back there. I’ll do up the spare bed and camp in the office.” He held up a hand. “No arguments. Now,” he said, smiling his Berry smile. “Orders from the restaurant? There’s certainly nothing in my fridge here.”

  “Can I come too?”

  Berry, Clancy and Rommy trooped back into the restaurant’s coolroom and raided Heidi’s stash of cheeses, olives and some of Clancy’s pâté, then from the pantry a mix of crackers. As they loaded a small box, Berry stepped back into the coolroom and returned with a tray of her dessert.

  “Quality assurance,” he said and placed the tray gently on top of the rest of the goodies. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Moonlight’s back.”

  “Must be getting late.”

  Berry leaned across her to shed some light on his watch from outside. “Nearly one in the morning. Way past my bedtime.”

  “Mine too.” Clancy was preparing to leap into the spare room ahead of him and not make a fuss of who went where.

  “You wait here, I’ll strip my bed stuff and throw it over the stretcher in the office and you can make up my bed with the clean stuff.”

  “No, it’s okay, I’ll take the stretcher in the office—”

  “It’s easier with the en suite for you. You won’t know you’re way around—”

  “I’ll sleep like a log, I’m sur
e—”

  Berry held up his hands. “What am I saying? We haven’t checked your dessert yet.” He headed to the kitchen neatly avoiding the pile of very clean linen at the foot of the settee.

  Clancy burst out laughing. “You want to eat it now?”

  “Why not now? If it’s what I think it is, it’ll slide down the hatch beautifully.” He brought back the whole tray, a cake slide, a couple of flat plates and two forks. “You serve. I don’t think I can contain the excitement.”

  Still laughing, Clancy sliced thick, wobbly lemon yoghurt terrine on to the plates and together, staring one at the other, they tasted their first mouthfuls.

  Berry closed his eyes. “I’m savouring those tingles on my tongue.”

  “It is a good one, even if I do say so myself.”

  “And it’s naked—”

  “We forgot the fruit sauce—”

  “But it’s not needed.”

  “No.”

  Berry set his plate down. “I’m going to have more in a moment.” He gently took her plate. “But now, I’m going to have some of you, right here. I don’t care how stupid it might be tomorrow morning.” He took the fork from her hand and set it on her plate. He cupped a hand behind her head and kissed her mouth.

  She tasted her dessert and his wine on his lips, felt the rasp of his chin on hers. Resisted only a little as he drew her closer. Against all her—

  Rommy jumped on the settee with them.

  “Get off!”

  Rommy jumped off the settee.

  Berry took her face in his hands and kissed her eyes, her nose, her mouth again. “I’m feeling pretty happy with myself.” He let her go, sat back to look at her.

  “Me too, but that could be the bottle of wine I’ve consumed.”

  “Could be. More dessert?”

  “Not yet.” Clancy leaned forward, took his face in her hands and landed especially soft kisses on his mouth, then sat back to look at him.

  He placed her glass of wine in her hand and picked up his own, sipped and looked at her over the rim. “Broke the ice, I think.”

  Clancy loved the hum in his voice, the vibration it set off between them. She smiled, unnerved for a moment, unsure where to go from here. “Without mistletoe,” was all she could think of to say.

  “Not a Christmas man.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

  She floundered a beat. “Heidi told me you have a frantic few days before you close and—”

  “And I’m glad you’ll be on board to help. She goes on leave around the same time we go to court, so...” He twirled the stem of the glass in his fingers. “I hope—” He waved his other hand back and forth between them.

  “Oh no. I’m good. It’s been great. Everything’s fine. And thanks again for the rescue.” Let’s shut it down before things get out of control. I get it. Well, good. I can be the grown-up too.

  Damn it.

  She stood up. So did he. And Rommy.

  “I meant I hope you’ll stay on here and that we can do this some more.” He waved his hand again, this time in no particular direction. “If you would like to.”

  “I wouldn’t like to mess things up.”

  He ran his hand down her arm again as if he loved the feel of her skin under his fingertips. “If we’re sensible—”

  “Then there’d be no reason—”

  “—not to go there.” He stood closer.

  “True. If we’re sensible—”

  “And stop mucking around like two kids—”

  “I don’t want to scare you off.”

  “Likewise.” And he kissed her again, hard, his hands on her shoulders. “Are we going to make that bed?”

  “You think we can make the bed?” She stepped into his arms and pushed her fingers through his hair, her gaze roving over his face.

  “Nah.”

  Their bodies close, the rush and tingle of heat coursed through her. He lifted her on to the settee so she stood over him, and pulled her shirt out from her jeans, pushed his hands up over bare skin. The rough palms sent feathery waves of pleasure over her ribs and deep whirls of warmth into her belly.

  Her hands slid from his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt. She flattened her hand on the old T-shirt stretched over his broad, lean chest, the hard contours fitting her palm. His heat buzzed through her.

  Berry bunched her shirt under her breasts and kissed her stomach, dragging his bristly chin from side to side. Ripples and tingles and shivers sped all over her and when he gripped her jeans’ zipper, her legs wobbled.

  “Not a good idea up here,” she breathed.

  “You’re right,” he said into her chest. “I need you down here tucked in beside me.” He slid her on to the seat and climbed up beside her. “I got the zip down but you’ll have to get out of them yourself.” His hand was low on her hips, nudging the jeans south. “Or lift your bum so I can pull them off.”

  She lifted her hips and he knelt up, gripped the hem of her jeans and with a couple of tugs had them off and on the floor.

  Rommy was very interested in all of this.

  Clancy’s knickers were askew, and as Berry’s gaze rose from them to her face, she unclipped his belt, popped the top button and unzipped his fly. Her hand rested lightly over a growing bulge straining against the denim and when a low noise emitted from the back of his throat it pinged directly to the very base of her belly.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Her mouth open a little, her gaze on his and it was all he needed. He stood, one foot on the settee, one foot off and with a little hop shucked his pants, threw them on the floor.

  Rommy looked at the pants, and at Berry.

  Berry knelt over her, slid her bra straps down until both breasts popped out under his face. He reached under her and opened the bra, pulling it out of his way.

  She’d gripped his shirts and pulled both over his head before his mouth could descend. Then the delicious warmth of his chest on hers... his hips on hers... and his weight on top of her...

  And then his mouth claimed one taut nipple—

  The phone rang.

  Berry hesitated. Groaned into her breast.

  Clancy froze. “Oh no.”

  He lifted his head and exhaled. “Yep.” He reached over and grabbed the handset on the coffee table. “And at one-thirty in the morning it isn’t going to be good.”

  She snuggled down as a chill descended, and waited, closing her eyes, reveling under the weight of him.

  “Lockett.” He tucked the receiver under his ear, pulled the throw off the back of the settee and draped it over him. One handed, he gathered Clancy a bit closer. Then he stopped. “Marlie, it’s one-thirty in the morning.” He listened a moment more.

  Clancy could hear Marlie’s voice but not what she was saying. “Don’t panic, Marlie, he’s here, so turn around and go back. He’s sleeping off the cocktail he’d given himself.” He shifted a little further over Clancy. “He drove over here, off his tree drunk and stoned and so I sent him to bed.” He tugged the blanket over a little more. “Well, why wouldn’t I? Can’t have him driving around out here in the state he was in.”

  Clancy opened her eyes and looked at Berry as he moved off her to sit up. He tucked the blanket around her.

  “No, turn around and go back to their place. No need to come over here... He’s perfectly safe sleeping it off in the... No, I have his keys. No need—Shit.” He looked down at Clancy, touched a finger to her lips. “Sorry. She’s hung up, is already in her car and heading over here. I’ll meet her down there.” He thumbed in the direction of the bedsit.

  “Oh.” Clancy clasped the blanket to chest as she sat up. “Okay. I’ll um, just um...”

  “Make up my room.”

  “Okay.” Clancy felt the disappointment down to her toes. The moment was lost, or the many moments she thought there might have been, were lost. A creeping embarrassment brought a bloom to her cheeks and she was thankful the lamplight was soft. She shrugged back into her bra and top, pulled on her knick
ers and jeans.

  Berry was pulling on his pants in silence.

  Oh, this is no good, Clancy. It feels like we were caught out doing the naughty.

  She bent and picked up the neat stack of clean linen. “Which way to your room?”

  “First left. If you wouldn’t mind dumping my bed linen in the study – it’s further down, end of the hall.”

  She nodded. She’d simply take the linen to the study, sleep on whatever was available in there and not disturb his room. There was no point taking up where they left off, the moment had well and truly fled. She’d make up her mind about the rest of the situation in the clear light of day, tomorrow.

  “Clancy.”

  She’d already turned for the hallway, but she looked back.

  “It’ll be fine.” He smiled at her, a genuine, broad grin.

  Rommy let out a series of barks just as she nodded again. Clancy felt anything but fine, especially as a car pulled up outside the house.

  “Shit. Didn’t think she was already on my place.” Berry dragged his T-shirt over his head.

  Marlie just marched right on in. She took one look at Berry settling into his clothes, then a look at Clancy with the sheets in her arms, and back again to Berry. Then spied all of Clancy’s bags stacked by the kitchen bench.

  She narrowed her eyes at Berry. “Where have you put Greg?”

  “Nice to see you, too, Marlie. I told you it wasn’t necessary to come.”

  “His father’s sick with worry.” She was glaring.

  “Is Mac back home?”

  “No. He’s still in Regency Hospital. He couldn’t get Greg on the phone, that’s all, and he asked me—”

  “At one thirty in the morning?”

  Marlie set her jaw. “You know what they’re like.” She swung her glare at Clancy and back to Berry again. “So sorry to have interrupted. I’ll take Greg back home. Which room is he in?”

  “He isn’t in the house. He’s in the bedsit. And no, you won’t go there and disturb him. You’ll let him sleep it off.”