Yesterday`s flower - Michelle Tarynne (fun to read TXT) 📗

all the baking ...’
‘How about ge ing a temp?’ Erika asked.

‘Oh God, I can’t face that, Erika. And I wouldn’t trust a temp with my recipes. It’s okay. I can do another few weeks of this, but I’m looking forward to when it gets a bit quieter. Thank goodness I close on Mondays, or I’d be working twenty-four seven!’

Erika cradled the receiver to her ear. ‘I could bring the paintings to you,’ she mused. ‘Oh, would you?’ Madeleine’s voice brightened. ‘I could do with a friendly face …
And you can distract me with your dirty secrets.’

Erika laughed. ‘Monday, then? I’ll finish this one before I come, then at least you have four new ones for your blank walls.’

‘And I can pay you for the ones I’ve sold. You sure you’ve only got four? They’ll be snapped up in a second.’
‘Afraid so.’
‘Be er than nothing,’ Madeleine grumped. ‘I can’t wait until Monday.’

♥

But when Jared heard of Erika’s plan, she could see he wasn’t happy. His eyes clouded and his hands, not normally still, seemed to grip at his knees as though to prevent him from

 

standing.
‘What’s wrong?’ Erika asked, fixing on his tense expression.

‘Oh, it doesn’t ma er,’ he said with a De Villiers shrug. ‘It’s just ...’ ‘Just what?’
‘I’d kind of planned an outing.’
‘What do you mean “an outing”?’

‘It was supposed to be a surprise,’ Jared pouted. ‘If I told you I’d ruin it.’ ‘Do you want me to cancel?’ Erika said, wondering what else to do.

‘Postpone it a week, or even a few days,’ Jared replied, running his hand along her leg. ‘I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.’

And that’s what she did, even though she could hear the disappointment in Madeleine’s voice.
‘I’ll come on Wednesday,’ Erika promised.
‘I’m working on Wednesday.’

‘I can help you out at the café. Take some of the burden off you.’ ‘That sounds nice,’ Madeleine said, with forced cheer. ‘I am sorry, Mad.’
‘I know you are. I know.’

♥

Erika sometimes wondered what Jared did all night.

He’d put her to bed in the most delicious of ways, but she could count on one hand the number of times they’d actually woken up together. She’d never known someone to sleep so li le. When she woke, Jared had always conjured up some of the most grandiose and unrealistic of plans – for the vineyard, for them, for future holidays.
She spoke to Max about it, but he was dismissive.

‘It’s just hot air, Erika. Jared has always had a vivid imagination. As a li le boy, he could never just be himself, so he was always Man-cub, or Willy Wonka or Peter the Pan.’
‘Peter the Pan?’
‘That’s what he called him.’
‘It sounds like he was, well, a li le ...’
‘Hyper? Frenzied?’
‘Well, yes, both of those.’
‘That’s just Jared. Don’t worry about it.’
And Erika nodded, her mind temporarily eased.

On the Monday of her failed arrangement with Madeleine, Jared enthusiastically slipped his hand up her nightie before she was even awake.
‘Thanks for the wake-up call,’ Erika murmured as he slipped naked into her bed.
Through the slightly open curtains the sun had barely peeped over the mountains.
‘What time is it?’ Erika asked.

‘Just before six,’ Jared replied. ‘Too early?’ A rueful smile crossed his face. ‘It is quite early ...’
‘Time for another round, then …’
By seven they were on their way.

‘What’s happening with the wine tours?’ Erika thought to ask as they pulled out the car port.

‘Max or Henrie e.’
‘The labelling?’
‘Simon,’ said Jared.
‘Despatch?’ Erika asked further.

‘Max will do it.’ Jared thumped the steering wheel with both hands. ‘For Christ’s sake, Erika. Do you want me to turn around and go back to work? What the fuck’s the problem?’
Erika blanched.

‘No problem,’ she said quickly, pa ing Jared’s knee. ‘I just don’t want to be the reason you fall behind.’
‘Well, I won’t fall behind. I’ve taken care of it. Now chill a bit, okay?’

Erika tried to laugh. ‘You’re the boss,’ she said, trying to keep the edge out her voice. ‘That’s right,’ Jared replied. ‘So if I want to take a day of leave, I don’t have to report to
anybody.’

It took a li le while before Erika felt comfortable enough to venture any conversation, and Jared, his knuckles white at the steering wheel, shoulders tense, didn’t seem so inclined either. She wondered what she’d done to anger him. She was about to ask about the day’s activities when Jared’s fingers loosened, one hand raking through his hair.

He looked across at her, and smiled. ‘Sorry I snapped, Erika,’ he said. ‘No excuse really.’
‘It’s okay.’

Jared moved his hand, resting it lightly on her thigh. The air conditioner was on full thro le. It almost felt like the wind through her hair.

♥

They were an easy walk to Camp’s Bay beach from the family apartment.

Erika had guessed at the De Villiers wealth but ‘the flat’, as Jared referred to it, suggested money she could only have dreamt of. It was on several levels with marble staircases and kitchen tops. Each light fi ing was a work of art; one that particularly caught her a ention seemed to be made of paper mâché. It was shaped like a buffalo’s head and as far as she could tell was life-sized. The cupboards were cherry wood or something similar (hard wood, not veneer), and huge stacking doors opened on three levels to balconies with the most spectacular views of the ocean she had ever seen. They even beat the views at Scarborough, which Erika had barely thought possible.

On the beach, Jared set up an umbrella and arranged two deckchairs under it. And Erika felt the sun seeping into her skin.

‘This isn’t the Med. You’re going to burn without sun block,’ Jared commented. ‘Turn over, let me help you.’

His hands massaged above and below her bikini, along her back, the lengths of her legs, around her bo om. It felt so wonderful she realised that she might just fall asleep.
‘Roll over,’ Jared said softly, his lips at her ear.

She did, and when he kissed her, it was though they were melting into each other. ‘If we carry on like this,’ she murmured, ‘we might just have to get a room.’

‘I have a room,’ Jared said. ‘Luckily enough.’ But he pulled away slightly to pour out some more sun cream, his hands gentle over her stomach, thighs and the curve of her cleavage.

‘Now you,’ Erika said, as she rubbed the lotion over his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles and the smooth curvatures of his shoulder blades, the bumps of his spine, and the narrowness of his tanned hips.

The caramel tones of his skin made Erika wonder how much of the time he was in ‘meetings’ might have involved sun, sand and a laptop locked up where he couldn’t see it. She recognised also that Max would have been stuck behind his desk managing the admin and making up for Jared’s absence ... The thought was disloyal and Erika tried to push it away. It wasn’t her business anyway.

Erika stretched out next to Jared, who was on his stomach. He’d balanced his sunglasses just above his fringe and was lying with his head on his hands in a sunlit stupor. She picked up the paperback thriller she’d found on a bookshelf in the flat, and tried to read, not really warm enough yet to brave the Atlantic. She thought back to her first swim on these shores, and how different she’d felt then. She’d been so consumed by the hurt she’d felt for Albert, and now here she was beginning to feel something more than just lust for the man lying next to her.
Leaning over, she kissed Jared softly on his exposed cheek.
‘What’s that for?’ he asked.
‘Happiness,’ she said.

Jared turned his head slightly. His face had taken on a look of tenderness – and vulnerability – that she hadn’t noticed with him before.

‘You’re ge ing under my skin, Erika,’ he said. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. I know I should feel guilty about Max, but I don’t, not completely. No one could get this lucky without ...’
‘Without hurting someone along the way?’ Erika finished for him.
Jared sat up, taking her hands in his.

‘I can’t help it,’ he said. ‘I love Max. He’s the only real family I have left. But that day I saw you coming up the drive ... I can’t really describe it. I know I can be hard to live with … but if you decide to stick around, my God, you’d make me happy.’
‘The book’s nearly finished,’ Erika said.

‘Don’t you think I know that? That’s why I’m asking you. Stay anyway. Work on another book. More paintings. I … I could set you up in a gallery in Franschhoek.’
‘But do you even want to know how I feel?’ Erika asked.

‘About the gallery? Of course I do! We could dream it up together. We could –’ Erika pulled her hands back. ‘I mean about you.’

Jared caught her hands again, kissing each finger with such passion that it almost felt as though he was making love to her. ‘Darling Erika, I don’t think even you know that. So why rush things? We’ll have great sex. A great partnership. One day, when you let yourself go, you might even fall in love with me.’
She was, Erika realised, well on her way to doing just that.

♥

Like Erika, Jared was a good swimmer, matching her even strokes with his own. When she’d suggested they get in the water, he’?d seemed to expect her to dip in a toe. It certainly didn’t seem to have crossed his mind that she might actually swim. He followed as Erika dived through the waves, until they were both in deep water, treading as they caught their breath.

‘That’s what I love about you,’ Jared said, as Erika curled her legs around him.
Not quite I love you, but it still made Erika’s heart skip.
‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘No half measures. I can’t tell you how many girlfriends I’ve had who wouldn’t venture past calf height.’
‘And how many girlfriends have you had?’

But he was evasive as ever. ‘Doesn’t ma er. What ma ers is where you learnt to swim like that.’ he said. ‘For a Pom, you really aren’t bad at all – this water isn’t exactly warm.’

‘Bracing,’ Erika said. ‘I was on the swimming team at school. And you’re not too bad yourself.’

‘Waterpolo,’ Jared said. ‘Vicious sport. We used to grow our toenails so we could scratch our opponents underwater without being caught.’
‘Lovely.’

‘I tore the cartilage in my knee during a match. Not enough for surgery, but it made me wary.’
Erika smiled. ‘Not for very long if I know you, Mr De Villiers.’

Jared laughed. ‘Race you back to land, Ms Shaw. You may not find this water cold, but my bits are beginning to freeze up.’

By lunchtime the sun was baking, and despite a slight breeze the sand was almost impossible to stand on without sandals. They’d thrown a Frisbee in the shallows and a empted a few rounds of beach bats, but both of them were thirsty and eager for something other than another ice-cream lolly. Swinging the umbrella over his shoulder, and nodding for the release of the rental deckchairs, Jared walked ahead to the showers. Erika watched him rinsing off, the water trickling down his back as he moved his hands through his hair. A li le like a leopard preening.

Stepping from the shower, Jared rubbed himself down, then wrapped his towel around his waist, extracting his swimming trunks from underneath the makeshift skirt. He pulled his jocks and shorts up under the towel and slipped on a T-shirt. It had only taken a few seconds for Jared to get dry and fully clothed.

‘Come on, Erika,’ Jared said. ‘I’m starving. Just dump your stuff over here while you rinse off.’

Erika showered and slipped a sundress over her bikini, which immediately left watermarks over her breasts and bu ocks.
‘Sushi,’ Jared announced.

By three o’clock they’d shared a bo le of wine and enough California rolls and fashion sandwiches to lull them into comfortable oblivion. They strolled the few steps back to ‘the