La Vie en Bleu

by Jody Klaire

  Berne nodded and I set about attaching it to the mini-stove.

  “You don’t get to walk away from that,” Rebecca said. “Why was the receptionist hitting on you?”

  Not missing Berne’s suspicious glance, I focused on getting the flame going. “She was merely appreciating me. Either way she thought I didn’t suit Doug because I’d asked her.”

  Happy with the flame, I placed the pan on top of it. “I asked her because she was the first person I saw. She was soooo wrong.”

  That wasn’t technically right. There had been a few other members of staff but it was down to the fact the receptionist had talked to me. That was all. She was friendly.

  “Is there something wrong with being gay in your eyes?”

  My unimpressed face should have said enough but I knew that, after her father, Rebecca would need more. “You know it doesn’t.”

  “Then why is it so hard for you to consider that you might be?”

  Ooh, she had me there. I hadn’t thought of that but still, I didn’t need to consider anything. “This isn’t about sexuality. We all know I love Berne. That’s not the issue.”

  “But don’t you wonder why Berne is so attractive to you?”

  I shook my head and put olive oil in the pan like I’d watched Rebecca do a million times. “Not really. Berne is gorgeous. It’s a fact.”

  That earned me a kiss on the cheek from the woman herself as she moved around me, adding ingredients.

  “What did the receptionist look like?” Babs asked, putting out camp chairs for us all.

  I’d make a rubbish witness, I could never remember details. “Dark hair, dark eyes, nice tan.”

  “She wear one of those slit skirts?”

  I took the offered spatula from Berne and shovelled the food around the pan. “No, she was always in trousers, why?”

  The three of them exchange glances.

  “What?”

  “What was that girl’s name that you used to go to lunch with?” Rebecca clicked her fingers. “She was tall, athletic looking—”

  “Heather?”

  Rebecca nodded. “That’s the one. You spent a load of time with her.”

  What did that have to do with anything? “She was interested in carpentry.”

  Again the three of them exchanged glances.

  “Cut it out. I’m not gay so get over it.”

  The food smelled just like it did when Berne cooked it and I slid the mix of vegetables and stir-fry onto the large plastic serving plate. “It’s not my fault Berne is beyond amazing. I didn’t stand a chance.”

  A second kiss on my cheek, I leaned into it. Forgetting where I was and all other thoughts but the conversation.

  I sat down and Rebecca pointed to her food. “For someone who doesn’t cook, you make a mean stir-fry.”

  “I . . .” I looked at Berne who smiled. Hey, I’d made a meal, I’d done it. I hadn’t burned it like my mother always told me I did. “It’s edible?”

  “Taste it,” Berne said, offering a forkful of her food.

  The delicious explosion of tastes on my tingling tongue made me smile. “It’s not half bad, is it?”

  “A woman of hidden talents,” Rebecca said.

  “A woman of many talents,” Berne added.

  Babs shrugged. “She’s beautiful. I could not care if she was pathetic at everything as long as I could look at her.”

  “Hey!” I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or slightly chuffed that she thought so much of my aesthetic qualities.

  “It is the truth, Pepe. Berne is as handsome as you. This is why you look so good together.”

  Not daring to let that vision penetrate my mind, I scooped another forkful into my mouth. It tasted wonderful and what was even more amazing was that I cooked it and it was delicious. Yay me.

  “You have always been good at cooking.” Berne squeezed my knee and left her hand resting on top. “You used to make us dinner sometimes when I was training.”

  “No, I used to make you dinner when I was trying to keep you awake long enough for a conversation.”

  Rebecca looked up. “You seriously fell asleep on her?” She shook her head, disgust crinkling her mouth. “Even Doug keeps his eyes open for her.”

  “I was training full time for the gendarmerie. I was also helping my father at the weekend.” Berne stared down at her food.

  I hated to see her thinking of her lost dream. She’d always wanted to be an officer, always wanted to follow her brother’s example.

  “Couldn’t you join again?” I asked.

  Berne looked up. “In theory but I do not wish for that anymore.”

  That was something I was thankful for. “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to take over my father’s business and make it grow. When he became ill, I knew that to see his hard work be in vain, to let our traditions fade, it would be madness.”

  I took the hand resting on my knee and kissed it. “Are you happy with that choice?”

  She nodded and kissed my hand back. “Très content. I find freedom in restoration.”

  The sun was setting gently over the hilltops and Berne’s eyes glowed with the pinks and golds. Soft light bathed her sun-kissed cheeks as she licked her lips. I leaned in closer, just wanting to look more closely at her beauty.

  “Whoa, Mrs. Fletcher-to-be.” Rebecca’s voice once again pulled me from the moment. “Kissing the locals is only permitted when you are single.”

  There was no missing the glance at Babs.

  Subtle.

  “I’m technically married to her,” I shot back. “So I am allowed.”

  To prove my point, I kissed Berne on the tip of her nose. The small act of rebellion both revolted and excited me. One thing was abundantly clear, I was cheating on Doug and I needed to have a long conversation with him. No matter the outcome of the trip, I’d crashed over so many lines that I’d forgotten where they’d been drawn.

  “If you’re married to her, then it won’t matter about you sleeping in her tent. Although, I think you owe her an explanation as to why you’ve been having an affair with a guy for eight years.”

  Rebecca needed to be a barrister or something. She was great at proving her point and even greater at reminding me of my duties. What must Berne think of me, kissing her when she had a girlfriend and was happy. How dare I barge in and make her cheat too.

  Irritated by her uncanny and infuriating knack of knowing me too well, I scowled at Rebecca. “Eat your dinner and stop harping on, will you?”

  She roared with hearty laughter as she held up her bottled water. “To Pip, growing a backbone at long last.”

  Berne and Babs joined in. “To Pepe!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  NIGHT FELL QUICKLY down in the gorge. Stars twinkled above as if they were winking down at me. The breeze had picked up a bit, and I’d snuggled into my jumper.

  I looked at the tent and tried to suppress the sudden urge to giggle like an idiot. Berne had been watching me, ever silent, over dinner. Rebecca and Babs had rambled on about the induction and my rendition of the national anthem. Talk had then turned to the house and how Babs’s plans would not make Doug happy, not a bit.

  Through it all, I had been thinking of one thing only, the fact that I had to sleep in the same tent as Berne. Berne of the gorgeous voice and soft touch. Berne of the sensual lips and strong hands. Berne of the knowing looks and sweet, teasing kisses . . . Berne.

  Merde.

  Sighing, I ran my hand over the fabric, knowing that the woman in question loitered behind me. I could almost feel her without turning around, like her gaze could send heat waves up and down my spine at will.

  “I need to tell you, to ask you something.” My throat oddly dry, I tried to clear it, managing only a raspy cough.

  “I am here.” Her body heat rippled up and down me as she whispered in my ear.

  A slow, gentle kiss on my shoulder.

  “You and I are both with other people.” Kisses traile
d up my shoulder to my neck. Oh, she remembered . . . just there . . . oh yeah.

  “Oui.” Berne’s breathy mumble against my skin. Her hands snaking over my hips—

  “We can’t.”

  I spun around, catching my foot in the guide rope. A huge ripping noise made me forget the fact I was falling. Berne caught me, pulling me to her. Her arms held me steady. I shut my eyes and clung onto her, burying my head in her shoulder.

  “Did I break it?”

  Berne looked around me at the tent and nodded. “Unless you wish to see the stars?”

  If the clouds weren’t starting to creep over the sky, that would have been a great option. Unfortunately, I was beginning to smell rain in the air.

  It was like a British superpower. Rain was my thing. The detection of it an art.

  “Alors, I do not think we can fix it.”

  I turned around and saw the damage. “Oh no. Oh Berne, I’m so sorry . . . I—”

  Firm, warm lips claimed mine and my trail of thought vanished.

  Rebecca cleared her throat beside us. “Three things, ladies. One, I smell rain. We seriously camping in the rain?” She counted her points out on her fingertips. “Two, Pip, that means we’re down to two tents. Guessing that means sharing is a group thing.” The twinkle in her eye made me laugh. “Three, you are adults, shacked up with other people, if you want to smooch each other, do the right thing, will you?”

  “And that is?” I asked. Was she seriously getting moral on me?

  “Get a room.”

  Berne let out a hearty chuckle and I raised an eyebrow at her. There was a naughtiness in that sound that I’d never heard before but oh did I love it.

  “There is a small campsite. They run tours. They may have room.” Berne looked at Babs who was already stowing her tent away.

  I looked up at the sky, to Rebecca, and smiled. Get a room. I could do that. “I never turn down a nice comfy bed.”

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, we stood in a holiday village of sorts. Wooden chalets that looked like garden sheds dotted at angles around a concrete block. I assumed that said block housed the reception and a canteen but I couldn’t make out much through the misted windows. It was belting down. Proper old-fashioned British-style rain.

  The porch area was tiny so Rebecca, Babs, and I were huddled together to keep dry as Berne charmed the owners inside. The place looked busy and I didn’t fancy trudging back down to the river campsite. For a start we would have to yank our kayaks back off the rack on the side and I really didn’t want to be hauling that thing anywhere for a few hours. My back was more vocal about heavy lifting than it had been at nineteen. I’d be groaning when I stood up or sat down like my mother before long at this rate.

  Berne emerged holding a key in her hand. “One room only. It has two beds.”

  “That’s a little more sharing than I’d like.” Rebecca folded her arms, glancing at me. “No offence, Pip.”

  Understanding exactly how she felt, I did not want to be within hearing distance of those two if Babs and Rebecca headed where Berne and I knew they would.

  “None taken but it’s chucking it down and I will take sharing a single bed with Berne here.” More need to giggle. “But I think we should all make the decision to act like proper adults.”

  “Which means?” Babs asked, peering out at the rain.

  “Behaving.”

  Babs looked like she wanted to protest but simply shrugged. “It is one night.”

  Berne’s hearty laugh filled the air once more and she pulled out another key. “Perhaps if behaving is on your mind, I will take Babs.”

  The three of us folded our arms in unison.

  “Sneaky, Chamonix,” I muttered.

  Berne smiled as Babs snatched the key off her. “Where?”

  Berne led the way and pointed to two wooden summer-house-looking chalets side by side. Very cute.

  “Time for bed, huh?” Rebecca squeezed my shoulder.

  I stared at the door and bit my lip.

  “Night, ladies.” She grinned my way as Babs practically dragged her into the room.

  “I’d say that they are stalemate at the moment,” I muttered. “Both as bad as each other.”

  “Mmm,” Berne purred close to my ear.

  I turned around and frowned at her. “Now, I meant what I said . . . Berne, we’re . . . we . . . can’t.”

  She sauntered towards me like some kind of gunslinger.

  “I mean it . . . Berne, what about—?”

  My back hit the door. Berne slid the key in the lock beside me. Her eyes fiery and full of desire.

  “I don’t want . . . to belittle . . . what we have by—”

  Berne clicked the lock open. I jumped as she slid her hand over my stomach to reach the door handle.

  “I . . . I’ll . . . I’ll go sleep in the tent.” My knees were shaking, my hands were shaking. I was officially a human jelly. “It’s better that way.”

  Berne pushed open the door. I stumbled backwards into the darkened room.

  “Now, Berne . . . don’t look at me like that . . . I don’t want—”

  She grabbed hold of my waistband and kicked shut the door.

  “Don’t we need lights?” I could control myself. It was better for us both if we didn’t do anything rash.

  “Non,” Berne whispered. She pulled me closer still. “I will work by feel, oui?”

  “Oh.”

  Her hearty chuckle washed over me again. Wow, that was a glorious sound. I shivered. Uh oh. Calm, decorum, control. Resistance was futile. No, no, I could be controlled.

  “Tell me to stop.” Berne’s lips found my neck once more. “Tell me that you do not love me.”

  Well that was just cheating. How was I supposed to fend that one off?

  “I . . . we . . . you . . .”

  More kisses, slowly, surely working their way down.

  “No . . . fair . . .”

  Berne ripped away my top. “All is fair in love and war, non?”

  Her warm fingertips were impatient as they ran over my stomach.

  “That’s not . . . quite . . . what it’s . . . supposed to mean.” Breathe in. Calm. Focus. Control. What was control again?

  Berne’s lips claimed mine. I tried to shake free from the building moment.

  I pulled back. “Are . . . we . . . at war?” If we were, I stood no chance. I couldn’t even string a sentence together.

  “Non.” Berne guided me backwards. My legs hit the bed behind me. “We are both in agreement now.”

  “We are?” I murmured against her lips. “I remember obj—” Berne’s kiss rocketed desire through me. Her mouth demanded. Her hands held me there, steady.

  “If you are objecting, Pepe, your hands are not listening.”

  Aware of my hands with her words, I understood why she was pushing me back onto the bed.

  Oops.

  It would have probably been a good idea to stop running my hands over the nice toned flesh on her side. “Ah . . . I see your point.”

  “Bonne,” Berne said, her voice hot and heavy in my ear. “Because tonight, you are mine.”

  NOT SURPRISINGLY, THE morning sunlight saw me wake with a large grin on my face. I turned over and saw Berne peacefully slumbering beside me. I just wanted to record the moment. Correction, I wanted to record the whole of the night too.

  Moments like this transcended every emotion I could express. Moments when she dreamed, when the world was waking up and her gentle breathing purred through the silence. Moments when the outpouring of pent-up feeling had calmed and her body and mind were at rest.

  Berne had always been the kind of woman who forever felt as though you needed to be a locksmith to unshackle what was going on inside her head. Behind deep, intense eyes that uttered words her mouth could not whisper.

  “Bonjour.” Her sleepy, husky tones sounded before the slow smile appeared across her lips. “I am told that you do not like the morning.”

  Cuddling my pillow, I laughed. “Y
es, well, Rebecca doesn’t quite have the same effect.”

  “Non?” Berne turned onto her side and I cleared my throat, pulling up her covers. “There is something you do not wish to see?”

  “You know I do, but if you’re chatting, I need to focus.”

  Berne’s eyes twinkled. More of that playfulness I’d experienced last night.

  “You are a lot more, sure, of what you want these days.” It was a tantalising development, I loved it. Still, I was curious as to why.

  “Oui.” Berne took my hand and kissed my fingertips. “I want that ring on your finger to be mine. I want you.” Her eyes glinted with an intensity that sent a pulse of energy hurtling around my body. Oh wow. “I will not let you run again.”

  “What happened to me abandoning you and . . .” I fought the urge to spit the name. “Her.”

  “We were never together,” Berne whispered, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Raquel and I, we have never been more.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  Berne smiled. “You think I would do such a thing to you?”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. “You lied?”

  She nodded. “We felt you needed your distance, to know what you feel inside without complication.”

  “We?” I raised my eyebrows. That kind of tall tale could only come from one person. “Let me guess . . . Babs?”

  Berne smiled.

  Enough said. Relief poured through me. They were just friends. I could deal with that. “But what about Vivienne?”

  “You only have to say the word, Pepe. One word.” Berne kissed my fingertips and I wondered if my heart telegraphed its soaring joy to her. One word. My heart seemed to clamber up into my mouth in a bid to scream it out, waving its arms in the air. Yes . . . Yes . . . please!

  With it causing a commotion, thumping away through my ears, I couldn’t make my mouth move to speak. Oh, how I wanted that, I wanted her.

  But I couldn’t.

  Fear screamed in, smacking my heart off its perch and squeezing my stomach like it was trying to strangle it.

  What if she changed her mind? I wasn’t good enough for her? She would never be happy with just me. What if they found out? It would ruin her. I couldn’t do that to her.

  “What happened to you?” Her words were gentle, her fingers tracing my cheek. “I know that you would never go without good reason. I know this is more than the reason you say.”