by Karis Walsh
Moving forward and away. Berit would be going soon, but not now. Tace cried out when Berit settled between her legs and rolled her tongue over the tendons high on her inner thighs. She’d been too aroused while touching Berit. She wouldn’t survive a direct onslaught from Berit’s mouth without completely shattering, body and soul.
But somehow she remained in one piece, writhing under Berit’s seeking tongue but not being destroyed by it. Climbing higher until the air was too thin to breathe. Crashing down and into Berit’s embrace when she climaxed with a heart-wrenching spasm.
❖
Berit put a hand on the end table and stood up, careful not to disturb Tace or to twist her back. She stretched gently. She felt good, even after the unaccustomed activity. Or because of it. She went into the kitchen for a glass of water and came back to the bedroom to drink it, leaning on the doorjamb and watching Tace doze. The room seemed so tranquil and quiet with the even rise and fall of Tace’s rib cage from Berit’s casual position in the doorway, but the events of the past two hours had been anything but calm. Berit’s pulse still raced at the thought of Tace touching her, again and again. Even now, she wanted to wake her for more.
Berit thrived by staying as far away from stability and predictability as she could. She’d never had those luxuries as a child, and she didn’t trust them to last as an adult. Her grandfather had given her a glimpse of family and permanence, but he had died, leaving her to suffer through the final years of high school until she was finally able to get away from the chaos of home. Tace was everything her family hadn’t been, but Berit had chosen her path and she wouldn’t change course for anyone or anything.
She sure as hell was tempted, though. She eased onto the bed, trying not to jostle Tace awake, but Tace shifted and reached for her with still-closed eyes. Berit willingly moved into Tace’s embrace.
Tace had been right today when she said Berit wouldn’t stay here. She couldn’t. She admired teachers and professors—even more so now that she’d experienced first-hand how difficult the job could be—but she wasn’t meant to be one. She hated the job. Or, rather, she hated the sense of failure she felt on the job. She was better suited to roughing it on a far-off dig, not sitting in a classroom translating basic Greek sentences. I came to the island. You came to the island. She/he/it came to the island. Snore.
Tace flexed her back, bringing her hips in snug contact with Berit’s, and she felt desire stirring in her exhausted body. She had four months to be with Tace. Four months of sex and companionship and laughter—whenever they could spare time from demanding and stressful schedules. Would she be tired of Tace by then? Ready and impatient to move away from her and get back to her old way of life? Berit kissed a hollow spot on Tace’s neck and sighed against her skin when Tace moaned softly in her sleep. She doubted she’d deplete her interest in Tace’s gorgeous body and captivating personality even if she had four years, four decades, four centuries with her. Four months to sate her desire and know every facet of her? Not likely, but she’d damn sure give it a try.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tace went to the rack of khakis and pulled out several pair in different styles. On a hunch, she grabbed a couple of floral tops in a lightweight fabric perfect for spring. She tapped on the door to the changing room.
“This size should be a better fit for you,” she said to the woman who opened the half-door, “and I brought these shirts in case you wanted to try them. They just came in last week and look good with the khakis. I can take those others if you’re finished with them.”
She left with an armload of pants and neatly put them back on their hangers and in the correct spot on the rack. She stopped by the register to ring up a customer’s purchase, and then returned to the window display she was designing. The sky outside the window was blue and the sun was streaming across the mannequins as she rearranged them, but the beautiful early spring day wasn’t filling her with depressed longing like similar ones had last year.
Tace returned to the register again when her customer got there with two pairs of pants and both tops Tace had suggested. Tace chatted easily with her, even though part of her mind was distracted by her amazement at how much she’d changed here at work lately. She’d always been comfortable talking to strangers or acquaintances, but something had held her back when she was at the store. She’d remained icily distant and on guard, never knowing if the people she met were from the college or not. Now she didn’t care. She could talk to the students, to professors with Berit’s caliber of education, or to fellow townies without faltering or feeling inferior. She was the same person—just as intelligent and with the same lack of formal education as before—but she was unrecognizable in other ways.
Tace glanced at her watch when the customer left and hurried to finish the display before she was off for the day. She’d actually followed through on her plan to reduce her hours at the store for real, and the resulting easing of her tight schedule did wonders for her attitude. For the first time, she was in charge of her time and the way she lived her life. She’d felt out of control before, being pushed and prodded along like a cow in a chute, without any choice in the direction she was to take. Now, the brewery was operating in the red, but not as deeply as before. Maybe someday she’d bring in enough money to work there full-time, but not yet. She’d have to work hard to make up for her lack of hours eventually. Once Berit’s rent check was no longer coming in, Tace would probably need to work here full-time again.
Tace leaned on the shoulder of a mannequin and stared out the window. She usually loved seeing signs of spring in her town, but now they reminded her of Berit’s approaching departure. They’d had four weeks of bliss, making love anywhere and everywhere that came to mind. In the backyard during another chinook wind. Out in the wheat fields on a cool evening, wrapped in wool blankets to ward off the chill. In Berit’s bedroom most nights, after their work was done and they had snuggled under the covers and shared their news of the day. Tace had felt funny accepting rent from Berit once their relationship slid headlong into the intensely personal, but Berit refused to stop paying. She changed what she used to write in the memo section of her checks from rent to my share of the house. Tace would miss those notes in Berit’s familiar scrawl more than the extra dollars in her account.
Tace put the last touches on her window display and went into the back room to clock out and change into more casual clothes for her afternoon at the brewery. She’d stay there late tonight since Berit would be at her committee meeting all evening, considering candidates for her replacement next fall. She’d been vague about those meetings, just making offhand comments about one applicant’s boring delivery and another’s pretentious and possibly faked accent. Tace figured she was joking because Berit must be eager to find someone to step into her role.
Tace shook her head as she walked out the door and into the weak but promising spring sunshine. She was comfortable enough in just a T-shirt with her jacket over her arm—a nice change from the usual thick layers she wore on colder days. She got in her car and drove the now-familiar route to her brewery. She noticed the early, slender stalks of asparagus in a dark-soiled field and made a note to bring Berit out this way when she had a chance. She wanted her to see the interesting plants before she left.
Too many of her thoughts about things to do with Berit ended with the phrase before she left.
Tace drove under the redbud trees. They were already showing some color and would be in full bloom in a couple of weeks. The yard was looking good—she’d been back on duty as gardener since the ground had thawed and everything had started to grow. She had pretty container plants scattered around the building, and several wrought-iron tables and chairs on the lawn. She hadn’t set up times for beer tastings yet, and she was still unsure how to take her brewery to the next level in customer sales. Bottling was tempting, to expand her market, but the investment was out of reach right now. She was sponsoring the upcoming bike race, and—
Her daydreams and p
lans were cut short when she saw Kyle’s Camaro parked near the front door, exactly where it had been the day he told her she owned the brewery. She felt the same sinking feeling when she saw his car as she had the last time. Her gut had been right then, and probably was again.
She walked into the building and saw Kyle sitting on a chair near the door. He had his feet propped on an empty keg and Suds was curled on his lap. The little traitor.
“Hey, sis! I’d get up, but this fellow seems comfortable.”
“Hi, Kyle.” Tace walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She slapped his feet off the keg and perched on the empty chair next to him. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, naturally. I stopped by the Blue on my way to the house, and Dan told me you were actually making a go of this place. I tried the IPA there—excellent, I must say—and came here to check it out. Your freaky brewer gave me the willies and this glass of amber.”
Tace glanced up toward the fermentation tanks and saw Joseph watching from above. He gave her a wave and disappeared. He’d probably been keeping an eye on Kyle for her—she knew he was happy with the way she was running the brewery, and he was probably afraid things would change for him yet again. She was a little worried about it, too.
“This place was such a freaking mess when I saw it last.” He took a drink of his beer and seemed to rethink what he’d just said. “I mean, I saw the potential here, of course, or I wouldn’t have bought it for you. But you’ve really made it look good.”
“It was a lot of hard work,” Tace said. “And you didn’t buy it for me. I paid you a lot more than what the brewery was worth and I didn’t have a choice except to clean it up and get it running again.”
Not exactly true. She’d had the option to cut her losses and sell, but she’d chosen to stay. She was uncomfortable with Kyle’s presence here, in her haven. Her decision to devote herself to running the brewery was still fragile and risky. She needed it, though, if she was going to survive losing Berit.
“Dan said he’d heard some people were asking if the brewery was for sale, so I stopped by the Realtor on my way here. She said there’ve been several offers on our place, a couple for even more than you paid me.”
“Our place?” Tace repeated in a shocked voice. He’d been busy during the short time he’d been in town. She’d known about the more recent and more tempting offers since Joan called her weekly to ask her to sell, always praising her effusively for the work she’d done. You’ve done a super job! But someone with more experience can take the brewery to the next level, and you’ll have a nice little nest egg if you sell now while the market’s hot. And Joan would have a tidy commission. Not a chance.
“My name is on the deed, Kyle. I did the work in the yard, I’ve helped create the beers, and I’ve paid Joseph’s salary.”
He sat up in the chair, and Suds jumped off his lap and came over to wind around Tace’s legs.
“Look, I’m in a bind. I have a chance to chip in with a friend and buy a seafood shack on the beach near Malibu. It’s a sure thing, with a strong base of customers and a killer location.” He spread his hands in the same gesture she’d seen since childhood. “The way I see it, we sell the brewery and split the profits. It’s only fair that I get something out of this, since I was the one who got it for you in the first place. Besides, what are you going to do now? You’ve mown the lawn and sold some kegs of beer. Do you really know enough about business or brewing to go any further?”
“If you need money, sell your car,” Tace suggested, but she felt a twinge of hesitation. Sell the brewery and make some money. She’d be free then, to go with Berit to Baja or wherever she went next. The idea tempted her so much she felt as if a hand were squeezing her throat. Her weakness where Berit was concerned made her vulnerable to the doubts Kyle helped resurface in her mind. And there was always the issue of Chris’s tuition…
“You know I can’t sell my Camaro. Depreciation. And it might need some body work.” He swallowed the rest of the beer and looked around as if hoping Joseph would materialize next to him with a refill. “I’m trying to find myself, Tace. I really think this restaurant will be my future. The guy who’s selling it is retiring to the Caribbean because he made so much money there, and all we have to do is follow his recipes. I’m bound to make a fortune. It’s not like this place, where you’re starting practically from scratch with no customers and no money. Look, I already told your Realtor to set up an appointment—”
“You what?” Tace was angry, both at him for stepping in and taking over her business, and at herself for letting her fears take root in his unfair words. She was doing fine here, wasn’t she? She’d keep the business afloat even after Berit’s rent money stopped. Maybe she’d have to take in another boarder or two, although the thought of having anyone besides Berit in the house made her want to cry. She’d definitely need to go back to full-time at the store, where she’d barely make enough to cover Joseph’s pay. She sighed. Her excitement about the brewery had been real, but maybe not realistic.
“Call Joan and cancel whatever plans you made,” Tace said. “I need to get some work done here. Do you want to stay and help?”
“I’m exhausted, so I think I’ll go home and crash for a while. Maybe tomorrow I’ll do some PR work for us. I can schmooze the local bar owners and get more of them to carry our beer.” Kyle stood up and stretched before bending over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I have a boarder now, a professor from Whitman,” Tace said, standing up and stopping him before he left. “She’s in the downstairs rooms, so take your stuff upstairs and be polite if you see her.”
“A boarder? Is she pretty? How old?”
“Get out, Kyle.”
❖
Tace worked off some of her frustration and negative energy with the trimmer, cutting wide and uneven swaths across the lawn. She was confused by her reaction to Kyle. She had never been able to resist him, probably because he’d been so young when she’d needed to step in as his parent. She’d wanted to make the younger kids happy, to protect them from the pain she felt when their mom left. They’d been fairly resilient and quickly learned to turn to her instead of crying for a long-gone mother. She hadn’t been able to turn to anyone, and she’d focused instead on trying to be the nurturing, loving, and present mother she’d wished she had. They’d been spoiled—not with objects or money, but with affection and leniency. Chris’s natural abilities in school and the love of reading Tace had instilled in her kept her on a good path. But Kyle had soon figured out how to get Tace to bend to his will.
She wasn’t a child anymore, though. She was an adult who was just learning how to thrive and set goals for herself beyond the next hike she wanted to take. What was her duty to the wayward Kyle? Breaking old habits wasn’t easy.
Tace finally left the brewery and made her slow and reluctant way home. She wanted to be there before Berit got home and found Kyle in the kitchen emptying the fridge. Berit was the major complication here. Tace would have been better able to resist Kyle if he hadn’t been unknowingly providing her with a way to leave town and go with Berit on an exciting adventure—something far out of her sphere of experience. She could rent out the house or sell it. Combine that with the money from the brewery sale and have enough to be self-supporting for a short while. Follow Berit to her next job…
And then what? Once her money ran out, Tace would be in a foreign country with nothing of her own. Berit had said she’d had hopes of Tace coming with her, but did she want Tace, the semisuccessful entrepreneur, or unemployed and broke Tace?
More than that, was that who she wanted to be? She’d be bored and disappointed with herself. She’d be trailing in the shadow of someone else’s career, and once Berit was finished with the job, Tace would be back here with no hopes and dreams for the future.
Tace parked in the driveway and shut off her gloomy thoughts along with the car engine. Berit obviously liked her, brewery or not. Tace just wasn’t s
ure what she’d think of herself if she let this opportunity for a career slip away. But even worse was the thought of letting Berit slip away.
She walked in the kitchen and found Kyle at the kitchen table eating a huge sandwich and reading Berit’s book. He must have found it upstairs when he put his things in her room. Her room? She hadn’t slept up there since their trip to Pullman.
He tapped the back cover, Berit’s photo. “She’s your boarder? I saw her name on the rent check over there.” He nodded toward the counter. “I didn’t know she was a famous author and archaeologist, too. She must be loaded. You should really be charging her more rent, or maybe ask her to invest in our brewery.”
Tace walked over and snatched the book out of his hands. She didn’t correct his use of a personal pronoun this time because she was too focused on his new scheme. “You will not discuss money with Dr. Katsaros or ask her to invest in anything. If you do, you’ll be out of the house, got it?”
He laughed. “You can’t kick me out of my own house.”
“It’s not yours. I pay the mortgage and the taxes. If you bother Berit…Dr. Katsaros, you’ll find out just how serious I am about—”
Tace stopped talking when she heard the front door open. She started toward the living room with Kyle close on her heels when Berit called out to her.
“Hey, sweetheart, I brought Thai food home. I thought we could eat it in—” She noticed Kyle. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize we…you had company.”
Tace hurried over to take the bags from Berit. She met Berit’s eyes and shook her head with a frown, mouthing the word sorry. “Berit, this is my brother Kyle. Kyle, this is Dr. Katsaros.”
They nodded at each other across the living room, neither making a move to step forward and shake hands. The energy in the room gave Tace the impression the two of them had taken an instant dislike to each other. She felt like a referee in the middle of a boxing ring while the opponents sized each other up.