Love on the Menu

by Ellen March

  Love on the Menu

  Ellen March

  Fanny Press

  PO Box 70515

  Seattle, WA 98127

  For more information go to: www.fannypress.com

  ellenmarch.jimdo.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover design by Sabrina Sun

  Love on the Menu

  Copyright © 2015 by Ellen March

  ISBN: 978-1-60381-568-0 (Trade Paper)

  ISBN: 978-1-60381-569-7 (eBook)

  Produced in the United States of America

  * * *

  Acknowledgments

  My thanks to the team at the fantastic Fanny Press, in particular Catherine and Jennifer. They’re simply the best and I swear they don’t sleep because the work they put in is absolutely unbelievable. I’m truly indebted to you ladies for bringing Love on the Menu to life.

  Also, many thanks to whoever takes the time to read this story of Jago and Riley. I hope I’ve done South Wales proud and fetched the beauty of the area alive through my words.

  And as always, another big thank you to my rock, Leanne.

  * * *

  Other Fanny Press books by

  Ellen March:

  Promises

  His Girl Friday

  A Ghost of an Affair

  * * *

  Chapter One

  “Will you listen to me?” Riley hissed through her teeth with growing frustration. “I’m leaving whether you like it or not!”

  She loved her twin to bits. But at other times, such as now, he got on her nerves. She wished he’d grow up. But then again, she wished for a lot of things.

  She continued to cram her clothes into the battered holdall. They’d be creased coming out because they were creased going in. Riley didn’t do domesticity, and that included ironing.

  “But why there?” He shook his head in despair. “I mean who in their right mind would want to swap London for the mountains and isolation of Wales?”

  Rob paced around the small flat they shared. “It’s the back of beyond, for God’s sake.” She followed the path of his feet. He probably never even noticed how threadbare the carpet had become.

  “You know why I need to get away, so stop nagging.” A frown creased her brow, and she rubbed at it. She felt the threading tentacles of a headache.

  “I’ve got two choices—either join a convent or this.” She paused thoughtfully and nibbled her bottom lip. “There may be another option, but I’m not too sure of that one yet.” Avoiding his eyes, she placed a knee across the case and yanked it firmly closed.

  “Well, I think you’re overreacting.” Rob stared at her mutinous face and knew no amount of persuasion was going to change her mind.

  If there was one thing Riley excelled in, it was stubbornness. She could give lessons on how to break people down and still not give an inch. He should know. He’d been on the receiving end long enough.

  She whirled around, glaring at him, hands on slim hips, her oversized breasts thrust out. “So there’s nothing wrong with getting dumped by text?” Her blue eyes flashed in warning. “Do you know how embarrassed I felt?”

  Slowly advancing on her brother, she prodded him with one long, slender finger. “Just because he’s your friend, you think it’s okay, do you?”

  “I don’t get why you’re so upset.” He backed tactfully away. “You know he’s knocking Sadie off now?”

  “He’s what?” Riley screeched. It was news to her. “I can’t believe he prefers that … thing over me! Well, they’re welcome to each other. I’m just glad I’ll be out of here.” She grabbed her case without appreciating how heavy it was and dropped it to the floor with a loud thud. She groaned in frustration, realizing she’d need to pack another.

  “Great, but how am I going to manage paying the rent?”

  At last, the real reason for his concern.

  Riley ran a hand through her short, spiky black hair, and a gust of breath burst out. “So that’s what this is about? It all comes down to you.” She wondered why she continued looking out for him.

  But she knew the answer. Since their parents had left them, she’d had no choice. Well, their mother hadn’t had a choice. Death had a way of sneaking up and taking some souls too young. Her father was the one who’d left, going after his own young soul. Only this soul was alive, and he’d convinced her to become his second wife, one who had no interest in his first family.

  Rob shrugged his thin shoulders and began rolling a cigarette. He kept his head bent, concentrating on the task at hand. He licked the paper expertly, his index finger tinged yellow from years of smoking.

  Riley took a deep breath and shook her head in resignation. “It’s okay. The rent is paid up till the end of the month. I’ll make the payments direct to the landlord.” She knew if she sent it to Rob he’d spend it. “And while I’m away, how about getting a job?” She shifted the local paper into view. The page was turned to ‘situations vacant.’

  “What?” He turned and stared at her, his eyes glazed over with shock. “Me, work?”

  “Yeah, you know, that thing we mere mortals do. Why do you think I turn up every night at the lap dancing club? Just for the fun of it or what?” She kept her voice level, determined not to start another argument.

  Riley despised his weakness, and hers, for not leaving him to fend for himself.

  She hated the groping and not so subtle innuendo that went alongside her job. The only plus side was the hours. Riley didn’t do mornings. And so far in her short life the most passionate affair she’d had was with her duvet.

  “Nothing I fancy doing really.” Conveniently ignoring her question, Rob hung his head. His foot circled the ground in a constant rotating action; he was deliberately not looking up at her. Lying was easier when you didn’t make eye contact.

  He’d discovered that at a young age.

  “Well I suggest you change your tune. I said I’d pay the rent for the flat, nothing more.”

  He was her twin in every way except personality.

  “If you want to eat, if you want to smoke, if you want electric … in fact, if you want anything else, I suggest you get a job.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the stale smell of tobacco that constantly permeated the stagnant air.

  “I suppose I’ll have to if you put it like that,” he admitted, abruptly backtracking. And in his usual mercurial fashion, changed the subject. “Do you want a hand?”

  Riley’s mouth hung open in astonishment. Thoughtfulness and Rob simply didn’t go together. But she wasn’t about to reject this rare show of generosity. “Well, you could throw my handbags and shoes into my holdall while I take this out.”

  She noticed he didn’t offer to take the heavier case.

  “No worries.” Rob watched her small frame struggle with the holdall as she hefted it out the door. Certain that she’d be a while lugging the case, he quickly rummaged around for the box. Placing its contents at the base, he laid a piece of hastily folded cardboard on top. He pulled the bag shut at the same time Riley staggered back in the room. Her face glowed red and her breathing was laboured.

  “Think that’s everything.” A wave of relief washed over him and he suppressed a grin. He was pleased at how safe the contents of the box would be—away from the house and in a remote area of Wales. No one would think to look for them there.

  He was home free.

&nb
sp; Everything for a reason, he thought with satisfaction. When the time was right, he’d simply visit his sister and relieve her of the packages.

  Riley slammed the door shut on her battered Beetle. Winding down the window, she blew her brother a kiss and said, “If you need anything, ring me. Just make sure it’s not money, though, okay?”

  She loved him to bits but wished he was a better person. As much as she adored him, she didn’t particularly like him. He was idle and selfish, and yet he was the only family she had.

  She thought briefly about her father and instantly discounted him. After their mother had died, he’d sworn he would look after them.

  Until he’d met Pam.

  Young, blonde, and voluptuous, she had told him in no uncertain terms she didn’t want a ready-made family. So that was that. When she said “I do,” she also meant I don’t. And so ended his paternal ties. Riley hadn’t seen him since, and that was over three years ago.

  “I still think you’re making a mistake,” Rob said. She could see that he was going to miss his big sister, all of two minutes older. And now she was leaving, putting a distinct chink in his comfort zone.

  Riley laughed. “Why? Think of it, an outdoor pursuits centre, fresh air, glorious countryside. What more could a girl ask for?” She adjusted her safety belt. “Jeez I wished they’d cater for a double D cup.”

  As always, he laughed at her struggle. At the way she continued to tug furiously at the black strap, finally yanking it over her enormous chest.

  “Nothing, I suppose,” he said, “except you haven’t got a clue about any outdoor activities. How the hell you got the job I’ll never know.” He tossed his cigarette to the pavement and ground it out with his heel.

  She winked. “It pays to have contacts,” she said, and chuckled, thinking back to her friend from the employment agency.

  It was a simple matter of telling her what she wanted and bingo. The job came up and along with it suitable credentials. Surely, she thought, it couldn’t be that difficult. She’d watched all the nature programmes on TV and it seemed pretty straightforward.

  “You’ll be back by the end of the week, I guarantee it,” sniggered Rob. “I can’t imagine you on a mountain. Any mountain! You suffer from vertigo on an escalator. The nearest to outdoor sports you’ve ever encountered is watching David Attenborough. Even then it was in front of the TV with a box of tissues.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” She flicked the visor down to give her bright pink lipstick a cursory check. After a brief fight with the gears, she painfully ground them into action.

  Oblivious to the blasts of the irate drivers, she cut up and slipped swiftly into the flow of traffic. Turning the music up, Riley began singing happily along to Adele’s latest song. Her high pitched screech resonated around the interior.

  The multi-coloured Beetle trundled slowly out from beneath the sprawling metropolis.

  * * *

  Rob shook his head and realized why his sister had never passed her driving test. She was a death trap and he for one wouldn’t risk riding in a car with her. How the hell she hadn’t been booked was a miracle.

  Forget the SORN—Statutory off Road Notification—Riley didn’t comply with anything. She didn’t insure the car because she had no tax, and didn’t tax it because she had no MOT approval from the Ministry of Transportation ensuring road worthiness. And realistically she shouldn’t be driving because she didn’t have a licence.

  Pulling out another cigarette, Rob lit it and inhaled thoughtfully.

  He recalled the outfit she’d worn on her test and almost felt sorry for the instructor, who’d struggled to avert his eyes from the tight blouse straining across her chest.

  He wondered if it was that particular test when the instructor had a heart attack. She hadn’t made it out of the test centre. He couldn’t remember what the problem was with the other six. Or was it seven? With a chuckle he turned and ambled back into the flat, kicking the door shut.

  He didn’t notice the stealthy figure intently studying him from across the street. Before melting back into the shadows.

  * * *

  Jago sipped on his pint and casually glanced around the pub. It was virtually empty, apart from the bar staff. The only occupants were seated alongside him.

  “What are you going to do about that stallion?” A brute of a man said with a challenging stare. His head was shiny and bald, and a small gold earring glinted in his earlobe. “Going to put him down?” As he picked up his pint, his muscles rippled. Testament to the evenings spent in the gym along with the days logging in the forest.

  Jago spared him a brief glance, aware he had a personal grievance. It was his brother who had been trampled by Farley, but only because he hadn’t followed his instructions. This was the reason he was here today. He’d heard the talk and decided it was time to silence it.

  Taking another sip, Jago paused. “Don’t know. He could throw some good colts. It would be a shame to lose his blood lines because of an idiot,” he stated coldly.

  “You calling my brother an idiot?” The man slammed his pint down, and the contents bounced out of the glass, pooling on the dark surface of the bar.

  Jago turned and stared at him, his green eyes resembling cold jade. “Yep, got a problem with that?” He took another leisurely sip of his pint. “I’m not going to lose a good horse because your brother’s incapable of following orders.”

  “I’ll see you outside, Tanner!” The man shot Jago a glare of pure loathing, flexed his muscles and cracked his knuckles.

  Jago Tanner turned to the older man he’d been seated with. “Tom, watch my drink. This won’t take long,” His expression a hard mask, he followed the man out the back.

  * * *

  Tom spat in his hand and shook with the elderly man seated opposite. “A pint Tanner comes in untouched.”

  Emlyn sniggered and shook his hand. “You’re on!” he said, already positive he’d won. He didn’t know a man alive who could take on young Morgan. His name suited him well. He was built like the Morgan horses in the nearby stud, nestling deep in the hills. Strong, muscular and hard as nails.

  In less than five minutes Tom gave a toothless grin and nodded towards the door. “You owe me a drink,” he said with a brief dip of his head to Jago.

  Emlyn stared at him in shock. “B-but how?” he stuttered. His eyes widened in disbelief as Morgan staggered in. Blood streamed from his nose, his eye already swelling. Then he glanced back at Jago, who was unscathed, except for reddened knuckles.

  Tom smiled. “He’s a cold one. No heart, that man. Trust me. No fear, no emotion, an arrogant bugger. But a good neighbour.” He finished his drink and wiped the foam moustache from his lip.

  “You’ve seen him fight before,” accused Emlyn. Digging deep into his pockets, he rifled through the loose change.

  “Of course. Do you take me for a fool?” He tapped his glass expectantly. “He’s got a short fuse. Never seems to start it. Yet he’s always the one to walk away.” He shook his head thoughtfully.

  Jago nodded at the two men. “Well, Tom, I’d better be going. Got a young lad starting today. To replace his brother.” He threw Morgan a contemptuous glare, and finishing his pint, strode out the door, much to the dismay of the buxom barmaid.

  It wasn’t often that he visited the pub, but when he did, he was like a flame to the moths, attracting women of all ages. Even Agnes grew coy, a grin tugging at her lips, and she was eighty-three.

  * * *

  Over four hours later, Riley heaved a sigh of relief as she finally veered off the motorway onto the quieter country roads. She was grateful to have survived, successfully dodging the large lorries and speeding cars. She’d trundled along the inside lane, blithely ignoring the furious blasts of horns from the heavier vehicles. And as they passed, she had blown the seasoned drivers a kiss.

  The view that greeted them as they looked down from their cabs set off a honking of a different kind. She grinned happily, continuing her fifty
mile an hour journey.

  Glancing up at the signpost, Riley pulled into a lay-by. She peered at the map in front of her, then again back at the maze of squiggly lines. A frown furrowed her brow. She took a peek at the satellite navigation system then remembered that she had switched it off. Its constant monotonous instructions had played on her nerves.

  She stared wistfully at the long road. It was bereft of traffic, snaking its way through the bleak landscape of the black mountains. The area was virtually barren. Pockets of lush verdant grass intermittently mingled with the long yellow areas staining the mountains. A small herd of scruffy ponies, their manes long and shaggy, grazed contentedly. They glanced up briefly to eye the curious stranger before melting into the remoteness that surrounded them.

  Riley looked up at the sky, a plain murky grey of hazy clouds. Only the solitary call of a bird was borne on the wind. Flapping its large wings, it ripped through the gloom.

  Riley stepped out of the car and stretched her aching legs as the wind buffeted her. Tugging at the cellophane covering her sandwich, she saw how the brown crust curled along the ends and cursed the motorway services as first class rip-offs. Tentatively she nibbled at it, but found the ham insipid and tasting of plastic, the lettuce pale and limp. With a final glare at the bedraggled excuse for a meal, she threw it towards a scraggy sheep. Its discoloured wool hung in long scruffy skeins.

  A short while later she wished she hadn’t.

  Surrounded by a herd of them, she ran for the sanctuary of her car, where she glowered at the bleating creatures that circled menacingly.

  Riley decided to devote her enforced captivity to discovering where she actually was. Again she stared at the map, searching for a clue. Her long nail ran along the lines, sure that one inch couldn’t possibly be that far. She glanced up at the sign and then down again at the map. There was definitely something wrong. She wondered why the black mountains were at each end of the diagram.