Best Maid Plans Page 23

  Wait...

  My stomach clenched.

  In love.

  Where had that come from?

  “Pippa, she awes everyone.” He let out a chuckle and nodded with a satisfied smile. “Go. She is working on the luxury chalet.”

  I turned to leave but he held my arm. “Just be aware that she very much seems to enjoy your company, oui?”

  “I doubt that,” I said, flashing him a cheeky smile. “She doesn’t try and get me stripping.”

  Flashes of the beach, of her skin warm on mine, of her hands running up and down my back. Entwined.

  “I am still trying.” He winked at me.

  I touched my hands to my hot cheeks.

  He grinned wider. “Ah, so there is a twinkle.” He puffed out his chest. “Good to hear this.”

  He must have thought the blush was for him. Oops.

  I turned and hurried toward the luxury chalets, the ones where Berne would be. It was hard to believe that she’d kissed me, she’d touched me, she’d... done lots of things... On a beach.

  I shook my head.

  What would Rebecca think?

  She’d be shocked. She’d be disgusted maybe? I knew she was... well... sleeping over other girl’s houses but it was a game to her. No. I couldn’t talk to her. She wouldn’t understand how every touch, every moment had reached in and shaken me.

  I stopped and eyed Guy’s office. I did need to talk to someone. I needed to know if I’d imagined the whole thing.

  I smiled as I worked the wood. The section had been faded by years of sunlight baking it; cold contracting it, and the heat expanding it. It needed a gentle touch but that was the joy of renovation: helping bring life back to a forgotten detail. I’d forgotten how scared I’d felt so I’d rang the only other gay woman I knew and Babs had been expecting the call.

  “Pepe, I hope you are fine this wonderful afternoon?” Babs was always full of charm. She made it easy to be in uncomfortable places. She made me laugh and teased me. Much like Rebecca did but in French.

  “I...” I twirled my hand around the phone lead. Guy wouldn’t mind me calling her on his office phone. I hoped. “I need to ask you something.”

  Babs chuckled. “I would think you do.”

  I shut my eyes. “You know, don’t you?”

  “Perhaps.” She was teasing me.

  “Please,” I whispered, peering out of the window. Guy was chatting to two of the other workers. “I... don’t know what to do... I... we... and now I... it feels... it’s hard to explain.”

  “You love her.” She said it like she’d known it all along.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then you tell her, oui?” Babs chuckled again. “You like to keep her guessing, it is fun but it is only fair she knows if you play or if you mean it.”

  “Keep her guessing?” I stared at the phone. “Babs, I haven’t intentionally done anything.” I chewed on my lip. “I hadn’t even kissed... well...” Oh how did I say this out loud? “I’d never kissed a... another girl, well woman... before...”

  “Non!” Something clunked. Had Babs dropped something. “Pepe, this sounds like the truth?”

  “It is. I don’t know what to do.” I gripped hold of the wire. “I... she’s... I really love her.”

  “You had never...” she trailed off into French too complicated for my brain. “It is better you speak with her. You need to tell her this.”

  Guy walked toward the office. Uh oh. If he found me in here, he’d think I’d slunk off to see him... not going there. “I have to go.”

  “Pepe, she needs to know what this means to you.” Babs’s voice was urgent. “She will help you. I will talk with you, we will help you through this, oui?”

  How could either Berne or Babs have thought I was clever or sneaky enough to be playing hard to get? I smoothed over the wood. I’d had to climb out of the window because Guy was at the door. I’d tumbled, in a heap, down the dusty banking and hurried to the luxury chalets. I hadn’t known what I was going to say.

  I took a long shuddering breath as I spotted Berne. She was at the back of the build on a scaffold. Her focus was intense on the stone. She was alone. She liked to work alone. She said that she could concentrate then. Only, she didn’t seem to mind it when I pestered her or chatted to her or stared at her like a numbskull.

  My stomach wriggled.

  I hesitated, watching her, poised to spin and bolt: to her or from her?

  My hands poured with sweat.

  I forced myself to move, to climb the ladders up to her. It took much longer with juddering knees and I’d forgotten how to breathe. I had to remind myself to, pausing to suck in some air.

  Was she angry? Did she even notice I’d been avoiding her? How could she think I was keeping her guessing?

  “Hi,” I squeezed out as I clambered up onto the platform. I bent over at the waist, sucking in more air.

  I didn’t dare look at her, instead I stared out at the view. Lovely spot, secluded, quiet. You could see the village peeking out from the trees in the distance.

  I cleared my throat. Had she heard me? “Hi.”

  A gentle breeze gave me slight relief and I closed my eyes. Maybe she was ignoring me? Why wasn’t she responding?

  I peeked open an eyelid.

  She was focused on me, her full intense gaze tracked over my face. “Bonjour?”

  More a question than a greeting. What was I doing there? What did I want?

  My stomach thudded as she flicked her gaze over me then away. She shoved her hands in her back pockets. The flash of her doing the same on the beach rolled through me. I loved it when she did that.

  “I need to say sorry,” I mumbled. I was humming with just her look. “I... needed to...” I didn’t want her to think I was playing with her but I didn’t want to sound like a child. “...work through it.”

  Berne’s eyes glinted with hurt. Her hair fell into her face as she dipped her chin. “It is fine.” She turned back to the stone. “Do not bother me with saying you were only drunk.” She rubbed her hand over the stone. “I should know better, oui?”

  Hurt? Why was she hurt? No, I had never meant to hurt her. I lifted my hand to get her attention only to see it tremble. “I didn’t mean that.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I want to say sorry for launching myself at you and not stopping to ask...” I sighed. “Not asking if... you wanted that?”

  Berne stopped and looked up at me from under her eyebrows. “You think I would lose myself so easily if I did not?”

  She had? “Oh... Well... I’m not sure.” I chewed on my lip. Babs said to tell her. “I mean I don’t have a clue.”

  Berne cocked her head. “Pardon?”

  “I’d never done... that... before.” I shrugged. “Ever.” I shuddered out a breath. “Hence the need to process it.”

  “With anyone?” She leaned against the wall, a curiosity in her eyes.

  “No.” I shrugged again and stared at the rubble bucket, wanting to bury my head in it.

  “Why did you not say?” Her voice was soft. Its tone drew me to look at her. Her eyes were full of affection. She beckoned me over with her finger.

  My feet wouldn’t move. “I was... um... a bit busy.”

  She laughed a sultry laugh. “I like that you were.” She motioned again. “Come here.”

  I wobbled over but stopped before I reached her. I wasn’t sure if I could stand any closer without my knees buckling.

  “I am worried that I overstepped the mark.” I sounded so British. The more nervous I got, the more like my dad I sounded. “You’re very kind but you can’t possibly be interested in me.”

  Berne slid her hands into her back pockets. She licked her lips, a smile forming, amusement in her eyes. “Non, you feel I am like my brother?”

  Sticky question. I’d met Erique. He went through more women than Rebecca.

  “I think you’re...” I chomped on my lip. “I think you’re gorgeous and...” I tucked my hair behind my ear aga
in. “You’re... um... sexy.” Sounded wrong on my tongue. “You’re... so... you... that I can’t think. I can’t work. I don’t know what this feeling is... I don’t know if it’s normal to...”

  Fall in love with a look, to confirm it with a kiss, to be swept away by one night. It happened in stories, it happened to people far more interesting than me.

  Her eyes softened further, then deepened in colour. “You feel this way?”

  I nodded an inane nod. “I really do. I’m terrified you don’t.”

  There it was. I was being mature and saying what I wanted. So my hands were dripping with sweat; I could hear my heart pulsing in my ears; my breath was wheezy; my knees were ready to buckle, and I was quite certain I’d faint at any moment, but I’d said it.

  Berne reached for my hand and moved me closer. She tilted my chin making me look at her. She was dusty, with flushed cheeks from the heat, shiny with sweat. Her skin glistened and her eyes twinkled.

  I groaned. I was so in love with her.

  Oh no, there it was again. In love.

  “Pepe, I try not to fall in love.” She smoothed over my cheek with her thumb. “You are so young. You are under my guidance... mais...” She moved my face closer. “You reach in, you fill my heart with your smile.”

  I whimpered.

  She moved me closer again. “I cannot only be a friend. It would hurt not to be your lover.” She hung on the word “lover.” The first time she’d said it with such desire.

  My body rolled with it.

  I gripped hold of her shoulders and threw myself into her kiss. Every desperate hormone driven urge fuelled it. I didn’t know what I was doing but I shoved her up against her nice neat wall and yanked up her vest.

  “Pepe,” she whispered. Her voice was hot, heavy, breathy. “Pepe... here... here is a little public, oui?” She stilled my hands. Laughter, passion, love in her eyes. “We go to mine, we talk.”

  I grumbled. Talk?

  She placed her finger over my lips and I closed my eyes. “We should talk. You must have questions if you have not...”

  I kissed her fingertips. “I love you.”

  I snapped my eyes open at my words. I said it out loud?

  Sweat trickled down her neck.

  I kissed it.

  She groaned. Did I really make her groan?

  I kissed the trail all the way up to her ear.

  “Pepe,” she wheezed. “I do not have much restraint.” She stilled my hands again. I freed them, rubbing over her stomach.

  “Good. I want to learn.” I lifted up her vest further.

  She groaned in protest then sighed and lifted her arms. “Only if you wish to be my lover.” She studied my face, smiling as I stared at her toned stomach. “I do not want you to be with others.”

  I stared at her. “Others?”

  “Guy.”

  I wrinkled up my face.

  She laughed. “Non, you do not want this with him?”

  “No chance.” I yanked at her belt then I stopped and met her eyes. “You don’t want that, do you?”

  She chuckled. “He is not my type.”

  I kissed her, not really caring where we were. “I meant other people.”

  Berne’s chest rose, sharp and shallow. “Non.”

  Something in her eyes filled with the look I’d seen on the beach. When she’d moved to me, when she’d pulled me to her. I focused on each memory, each detail, kissing her as she’d kissed me.

  Her groan was reward.

  “Pip?”

  I wobbled on the ladder, I dropped my sandpaper which hit me in the face and my heart clattered in my chest.

  Rebecca laughed. “What was going through your head?”

  I sighed and turned to her. It was dark outside. Hmm. I’d been daydreaming a fair bit. “Berne.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “Care to give details?”

  I tutted and clambered down the ladder. “Not really. I was trying to figure out how I could make some ground back. You know, in the battle.”

  Rebecca stopped laughing and narrowed her eyes, game face on. “And?”

  “I used to surprise her.” I chewed on my lip. “I launched myself at her, then ignored her, then launched myself at her again.” I wheezed out a breath. “Poor woman couldn’t have known where she was.”

  “Hot and cold, hmmm?” Rebecca folded her arms. “So you made her feel insecure?”

  “No, not like that. I’d tell her why I was ignoring her. I’d explain that I was trying to process it.” I’d been so much more open with my feelings. “She’d know why I felt that way, she’d wait for me to feel ready to talk... then I’d launch at her again.” I shook my head. “It took a while to calm down.”

  “How did you?” Rebecca had put all the tools away at some point and dragged me out of the house, locking up.

  “I moved in with her. I felt better then.” I couldn’t explain it. It had been so quick, so intense. I’d blamed it on hormones. I’d expected to be calmer now I was older. I wasn’t. The only reason I didn’t launch myself at her was that I worried about her back.

  “She’s injured,” I told myself as Rebecca led me down to the stables by the hand. “I need to have restraint.”

  “Pip, she’s healed, she’s fine.” Rebecca squeezed my arm. “It’s okay to want to sleep with your girlfriend.” I eyed her, waiting for the laugh but she smiled. “I mean it. Stop worrying. Let yourself love her. You fought hard enough for it.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit needy that I can’t sleep?” There it was. I was pathetic. I was the kind of woman my mother called desperate. She’d say I needed to get a grip.

  “I can’t sleep when Babs has been gone for a day.” Rebecca shrugged. “The only person I could cope with in my bed before that was you.”

  She let us into our cottage and I yawned. “You think they’d be mad if we cuddled?”

  “Yes.” Rebecca sighed and locked the door. “Pip, the goalposts have been changed. It’s not a good idea.”

  “Why? We’d sleep better.” I stretched out my neck. I’d been at a funny angle. It cracked and I winced.

  “You’re with my girlfriend’s best buddy.” She wandered over to the microwave and started it. Hopefully it was my dinner. “It’s not respectful.” She leaned on the counter. “Because you’re... open to women.”

  I snorted. “One woman. I love Berne.”

  “Haven’t you noticed the dynamic between us has changed?” She pulled out a plate and put it in front of me. “You notice when I’m naked.”

  I inhaled the yummy scent. “It’s not hard. I need sunglasses.”

  She poked me in the shoulder. “If you’d been honest about Berne when you had to leave her, we might have figured things out more easily.”

  “Or it would have complicated everything.” I hadn’t been in a place I could talk when I’d left Berne. It had hurt too much. “I like cuddling you.”

  “Me too but our French ladies wouldn’t like it.” She squeezed my hand. “You wouldn’t like Babs and Berne doing that.”

  I pulled my mouth to the side and chomped on my dinner. If Babs needed to cuddle Berne, I didn’t have any problem. “Can we still cuddle on the couch?”

  Rebecca sighed. “Yes.”

  “Does it matter if we then fall asleep on the couch?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Can’t see why.”

  I finished off my food and shoved the plate away. “Good, because I need a cuddle.”

  Rebecca plumped up the cushions and we settled on the couch. I burrowed under her arm like I always did. The rain and wind battered the windows somewhere behind the thick curtains.

  “No wandering hands in your sleep,” she said with that cocky tone.

  “Like kissing my arm,” I mumbled, my eyelids heavy.

  “I’ve heard about your form on worksites,” she said with a sleepy chuckle.

  I tutted, then grinned to myself. She didn’t know the half of it.

  Chapter 29

 
Berne rubbed at her back trying to shut out the throbbing pain. She’d visited the doctor who’d sent her for a scan. She’d only torn the muscle, thankfully. Rest, physiotherapy and painkillers were the treatment.

  She’d tried rest but after days of staring at the ceiling in her parents’ house, she had to move. She hoped that painkillers and physio would do enough to help it heal. Erique had come home on leave. So he’d driven her over to Pippa’s house to make sure it was secure.

  “Are you sure the doctor says it is fine?” Erique asked and slumped down on to the sofa in Pippa’s living room. “You are in pain.”

  “The doctor says to rest.” She rolled her eyes, handing him a drink. “I ask him if he can finish my work.”

  The doctor was used to her so had laughed. He didn’t understand that the business, the finances were all reliant on her working.

  “What is there you need to help with?” Erique’s tone turned serious.

  Berne sank down into the chair and winced. Another jolt of pain shot through to her toes. “Three jobs for the village: Monsieur Coin needs a new wall; Madame Gasquet needs to rebuild her kitchen wall from the leak and, Papa needs the front path re-laid.” She flicked out her fingers. “I have three sculptures to complete for Babs, then I need to visit her project. I need to supervise and to teach... and my own project.”

  “Your project?”

  She rubbed her hand over her face. “...and, I need to take my things from the apartment and put them... somewhere.”

  He cocked his head. “Not here?”

  She shrugged. Pippa had asked her to move in but maybe it had just been to make her feel better?

  Erique pulled out his phone. “We ask her.”

  Berne frowned. “Erique—”

  He held up a finger. “Bonjour, Pepe, Ça va?” He smiled as Pippa no doubt laughed.

  What was it about the sound of Pippa’s laughter that made every inch of her quiver with love? It was carefree, right from deep in the stomach. It would crinkle up Pippa’s eyes and make them twinkle.