Chapter Ten

“How did I let you talk me into this,” Jen said with a laugh.

“Because you need to get out of the house and away from the hotel.” Brady said. “And because you love me.”

Jen grimaced as she peeled the light, flaky skin of the arrowroot she was holding and flicked it onto a growing pile in front of her. “You said we were going to do something fun…not peel a mountain of vegetables.” Jen laughed. “I don’t love you this much.”

“Awww, that’s just sad.” Marty chortled. He dumped his small paring knife and vegetable root he was holding and hugged Brady, almost dragging her off her chair. “I loves ya, darling.” He dropped a loud, smacking kiss on her head and returned to the job in front of him as Brady giggled.

Jen had to admit it. The arrowroot peeling party wasn’t what she’d expected when she’d arrived here, but it was certainly entertaining. A long table had been set up along the porch of local Pitcairners, Carrie and Bill Christian. Around half the community had turned up to help peel the small, floury root, and the air was full of chatter, laughter ,and the atmosphere jovial even with the huge job in front of them. A large igloo of cold passion fruit juice sat in the corner with a stack of plastic cups, and breadsticks in their crispy thousands sat in a big Tupperware container for the hungry horde.

Brady shrugged, smiling widely at Jen. “You said you needed to do something away from the hotel and get out of the house. So, here we are. Stop complaining, woman, or I’ll make you peel my share, too!”

“Es you tired fer peeling, already?” Carrie asked as she plopped a cool glass of passion fruit juice beside Jen and slid into the empty chair next to her.

“Thanks, Carrie, and no. I’m not tired, yet.” She waved down the table at the huge mound of unpeeled arrowroot. “Though, I can see us sitting here peeling until next week.”

“You’ll be surprised. With all hem sullen helping, et won’t take long.”

“What’s your definition of long, Carrie.” Jen scoffed.

“A couple of hours—tops. It’s the grinding and drying that takes the longest,” Carrie said. She dusted off her dirty hands on her denim shorts and passed Jen a long, crispy breadstick.

“Eat, Jen. You bin losing weight.” She frowned as she took a bite from her own breadstick and chewed thoughtfully. “Yorley es too skinny. Felix ought to bin teach yous fer cook before he moved out.”

The statement wasn’t said with any evil intent, but it still stung. It hadn’t taken long for the community to find out that Felix had moved back to the hotel. The concerned faces she met in the store and in the streets attested to that fact. The idea that everyone thought she couldn’t cook as well was just plain mortifying. She rolled her eyes mentally and kept her eyes focused on the arrowroot that she peeled.

The fact that she’d been living on Ramen noodles and coffee would have horrified Felix. Don’t think about him, her mind warned. Wincing, Jen changed the subject.

“So, what do you do with the arrowroot once it’s peeled and processed into flour?”

“It’s used as thickener in cooking, but we usually use it for arrowroot biscuits. It’s a traditional flat and crunchy biscuit passed down for generations.”

Jen picked another fiddly and flyaway piece of skin away from the tuber she was peeling. “All this effort…why not just buy the flour?”

Carrie shrugged, glancing up as the roar of an approaching bike neared. “We try to keep our traditions alive, Jen. We still grow our own sugarcane and make our own molasses, too. The only thing that we have let go by the wayside is drying our own sea salt. Now, that was a huge production.”

“I could imagine.” Jen looked around the table at all the chattering helpers and smiled. “I can see that it draws everybody together.”

“Mmm,” Carrie agreed. “We all band together. Last week, we helped Joseph dig his plot of arrowroot, and he’s here helping us. What goes around, comes around…” A large smile creased her face, and she stood up to greet a newcomer in the traditional, Pitcairn way.

“Wut-away, Felix!” Carrie cried. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”

Jen froze as Felix walked up the porch steps, and Carrie bent across the table to kiss his cheek and give him an awkward hug.

He glanced down at Jen and gave her an unselfconscious smile before kissing Carrie back. “Hey, you. Wut-away, yourself.”

Carrie smoothed down her shirt, leaving dirty smudges on the thread-worn material. “Here, take my seat. I’ll go get you something to drink.”

Bill snorted from down at the other end of the table. “Carrie, stop fussing.” He nudged his neighbor. “Should have seen her fluttering around Felix last week at Joe’s. The poor guy couldn’t peel an arrowroot without her trying to do it for him.”

The people around the table exploded with giggles, and Carrie glared at her husband. “Es not funny. Felix bin come to all these thing fer help. I just grateful es all.” She looked at Felix as he arrived around the table to stand in front of her vacated chair. “Don’t yous worry ‘bout dem cheeky devils.”

Felix grinned. “Dem just jealous, aye Carrie.” He turned to Bill, and with a cheeky wink, he added, “Better watch et, Bill. I might steal ha gal ‘way from yorley all.”

Bill winked back. “The way ha gal flutters her eyelashes at yorley, I don’t think it’ll be much of an effort, mate.”

The older woman flushed scarlet and glared at her husband. “Bill, you shush. Ha boy es just trying to fit en, and I es just helping.” She turned to Felix and patted his arm. “Your Pitcairn is getting better, Felix. Uh. I’ll just go get your drink.”

Jen glanced sideways as Felix slipped in beside her.

“Hi.” Her mouth felt stiff around the simple word, her heart pounding and her fingers frozen. It was the first time she’d seen him in over two weeks, since she’d run from their date. Guilt and remorse sat heavily in the pit of her stomach. She’d been avoiding him at work, ignoring his calls, and even resorted to hiding if he’d turned up at the house. Shame made her face burn hot, and her fingers feel wooden as she peeled. Mouth dry as cotton with his nearness, she had no idea how to react, what to say.

“Hey. How have you been?” he asked softly.

The concern in his eyes just about killed her, and she lowered her eyes. “Busy,” she mumbled.

He reached for a pile of arrowroot and pulled it toward him. Then, he deftly began to peel. “Me, too. Or trying to be.”

Jen watched him for a while, biting her lip and feeling desperate to cross the void that had sprung up between them. Their chairs were almost touching, they were so close. Yet, it felt like he was sitting across the room.

“You’re good at that.” She indicated with her knife to the quick work he was making of his peeling.

“Done it before. I came down to help Joe last week.”

“Oh.”

He stopped and stared at her for a moment. “I’ve been trying to keep out of your way, Jen. If I’d known you were here, I wouldn’t have come.”

She swallowed down the sharp pang of rejection and stared back. Putting down her knife, she pushed back the chair, desperately trying to hold back the tears that suddenly felt hot and plump in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.” Turning her back on him, she scrambled around the table, avoiding Carrie’s startled eyes as she stood at the head of the table with a full and dewy glass of juice.

Jen heard Felix’s chair scrape back as she ran, his apologetic murmurs to Carrie, but she let her leaden legs carry her down the porch and into the driveway. Tears were falling hot and wet now, and she wiped at her cheeks furiously, angry at herself for letting him chase her away.

He caught her halfway down the driveway, his hand grasping her elbow. “Wait,” he gasped. “Geez, you can move when you want to. Slow down.”

“Why?” She cursed the tears that flowed down her face. “You didn’t want me there. Hell, I didn’t want to be there, if that was your attitude. I’m leaving. Just let me go!” She jerked her arm free and stormed away from him, blindly turning into the road and stumbling once as she tripped on the rutted dirt track.

She heard him swear loudly behind her and then in a few quick strides, he was in front of her. He grabbed her by the arms as she attempted to move around him. “Just stop!”

Jen froze as she looked up into his face and, to her surprise, saw his own eyes glistening with moisture. “This is as hard for me as it is for you, Jen,” he said.

Sighing, he looked at his feet. “I’m trying here. Give me a break.”

“Trying?” Her voice went up an octave. “Trying to do what? Be nice to me? Well, don’t do it. Please, Felix. I don’t deserve it.” She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “What’s more, I just ran away from a table full of Pitcairners. I’m gossip, now—a new rumor to spread. I’m humiliated!” She hooked a thumb back over her shoulder.

His eyes shadowed with confusion and then glittered with anger. “Humiliated?” he echoed. “You were the one who ran out of there, not me.” The fury that fluttered across his face made her feel better—a wave of relief flooding over her. “It’s something you’re good at, it seems. Running, I mean,” he added.

That’s what I deserve, she thought. Not being nice. Don’t be nice, Felix. Yell, shout…do anything but that.

“We used to be best friends, Felix. And that’s how it should stay. Just friends,” she said, her voice shaking. “I thought…we were…you know…” She threw her hands up in the air in surrender. “Can’t you understand?”

His face twisted into a frown. “No, I can’t, Jen. What the hell do you want me to understand? I thought we were doing so well, and then you ditched me. Not only that, but every time I tried to get in contact with you to find out what I’d done wrong, you cut me out.”

Speechless, Jen hugged her arms around herself. She had to admit, as much as she hated to, that he was right. “We had fun,” she said lamely.

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Then why—why did you stand me up?”

“Because, I’m no good for you,” she said simply. Giving him a wide arc, she walked around him and began walking, again. “We were…I started to feel something, and I just couldn’t take the chance of starting something that I couldn’t finish. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She winced as he growled with anger and kept walking as she heard his heavy step behind her. “It was dinner, Jen. Dinner. Not marriage.” He swore loudly. “We are living on an island one mile by two. You hurt me more by turning your back on me. You could have at least talked to me about it instead of letting me think I did something wrong. It’s you who had the problem and was too scared to say. You who needed the space. All you had to do was pick up the bloody phone at least one of the times I called and left message after useless, unanswered message!”

Glad the Quintal House was just around the corner, Jen sped up—fury building at his every word. She stomped wordlessly toward the house, burning with unreleased anger. She turned at the bottom of her porch, faced him, and waggled an accusing finger in his face. “Friends don’t turn their backs on friends. The same principle you just spouted so sanctimoniously applies to you. We work in the same damn hotel, Felix. If you were that upset about me not turning up, you could have found me if you really wanted to.”

He snorted with derision. “Oh, that’s rich. Friends…” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be your friend, Jen.” He said angrily, and then groaned as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

Blood turning to ice in her veins at his words, Jen stepped back, and her heels caught on the bottom step. As she felt herself falling, Felix stepped in, his arms coming in to catch her from landing with a solid thump. He pulled her up but didn’t release her, and instead pulled her closer.

“Let me correct myself. I don’t just want to be your friend. I want to be more than that…much more,” he said softly. His dark eyes captured hers, searching for something, and she felt herself falling, again—not physically this time, but emotionally. “I moved out, because I couldn’t stay here and know you were just next door, just a wall separating us. Not when I’d told you how I’d felt and this invisible wall had come up between us. Then, you dumped me, and I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong. Things changed that day at Saint Paul’s pool. They changed for us, they changed for you, and I know it. It felt different between us…it is different.”

Being this close to him, Jen was unable to think. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she thought it would soon explode. The blood rushed through her veins, and she could feel her body traitorously tremble in his embrace. She saw him lower his head toward her, knew he was going to kiss her again, and was powerless to resist.

I don’t want to resist, her mind screamed.

She met him halfway, their mouths meeting in silent desperation, her arms slipping around him, body melding itself of its own accord to his. She kissed him hungrily, her lips matching his tender ministrations at first, but then asking for more. Her fingers wound their way up his muscled back, into the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him in closer. Opening her mouth to him, she heard him moan as she led the way. Tongues dancing, darting, tasting, and tempting, she sank into the sensations he opened up deep within her.

Head whirling, she barely felt him pick her up, still reeling in the sensation of his mouth on hers, their breath mingling. Was this what right was? Did it mean feeling like I am falling? she thought hazily.

Then, they were in the house, Felix kicking the door closed behind them. She heard herself sigh with pleasure as he rained kisses down on her mouth, a hot line of fire along her jawbone and neck. She slid with agonizing pleasure zigzagging through her body, down the hard length of his as he set her on her feet—his need, his want for her obvious as she felt him press against her. With fire of her own burning with longing, her legs like jelly, and she whimpered as he pulled away.

“If you want to stop, tell me now, Jen,” he growled.

She looked up into his lust-softened face and shook her head. Pulling her shirt over her head, she dropped it onto the floor. The sudden glint of pure lust in his eyes sent a stab of desire radiating out from the very core of her.

“Don’t stop, Felix. I don’t want you to stop.”

Then, she was back in his arms, being lifted with a feral moan, and carried to her room.

The look in her eyes was unmistakable. She wanted him. She wanted him, and that was all that mattered. His head sang with the hazy look of wanton need on her face, the urgency of her kisses. He asked, barely able to form the question, and his heart jolted painfully in his chest as she gave him the green light. As she slipped out of her T-shirt, the lacy cups of her bra revealed, and her creamy skin unveiled, Felix felt his mind slip.

He placed her as gently onto her bed as his lust-glazed mind would allow and took a second to shuck off his own shirt. She hissed in a breath through her teeth, and his moment of sanity slid. With a groan, he lowered himself onto her, his mouth plundering hers. He had to have her, taste every inch of her.

She arched against him as he kissed her face, her neck, and the lobe of her ear. Tasted the hollow of her throat. With a finger, he moved her bra strap and kissed her shoulder, sliding it down her arm. A breast popped free of the silky cup, and he took the creamy globe in his hand, running his thumb along her nipple. A moan escaped from his mouth as it hardened at his touch.

Her fingers scrabbled at his waistband, and he almost lost control as a fingertip touched the tender skin inside. Not yet, his mind whispered.

Her mind slipped as she touched his straining manhood, her lust-crazed mind screaming as he pulled away, moved down. She almost thought he’d changed his mind, decided to end it there, when she felt his fingers at the snap of her shorts and the material begin to slide down over her hips.

Too slow, her mind yelped. Do it, now. I want it, now! She shuddered as cool air touched heated skin, almost leapt from the bed as his lips and tongue touched where her body desperately yearned for him to be. Suddenly, fingers manipulated, tongue delved deep, and she arched her hips. A river of fire, a flood of heat surged from deep inside. She dug her hands into his hair, calling his name as her body shuddered, unable to resist the wave of sensation that peaked and roiled within her.

Breathless, she watched as he rose above her, the silky smoothness of his belly causing a new fission of excitement against her own as he slid up her dampened skin. When he’d lost his shorts, she didn’t know, but the shock of hardness against the still throbbing center of her had her squirming, her flesh opening to admit him, stretching to allow him to fill her.

He entered her, and his eyes closed against the feeling of his flesh parting her, sinking into her. He’d wanted this for so long. The sensation of her, wet and hot around him, almost unhinged whatever sense he had left. He could feel the miniature shocks of her body tighten and loosen around him, and he was glad he’d made her come before he’d taken her. At the back of his mind, his conscience crowed at his lack of stamina, and he groaned as he felt the fires rise within him.

She met his fevered thrust with her own, rocking against him. Mouth-to-mouth, sword–to-hilt, they moved together, rising another peak, moving in ancient rhythm. As he coasted over the wave, crying out with the joy of it, she joined him in exaltation, and they rode the wave together.

* * * *

They lay spooning together on the bed, a sheet casually pulled up over them. She could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her back as he breathed. She lay silent, mind reeling at what they’d shared. The memory of being angry, stone-cold furious at him one moment, and the next, desperate for his hands to be on her, his mouth to cover hers. The ferocity of the change of emotions nagged at her.

Her whole body felt relaxed, sated, and she wiggled closer in to his embrace, grinning at the instant reaction she caused. This feels so good, she thought, but what next?

She bit her lip as she considered the war her heart and mind suddenly waged. Her heart told her that such pure emotion was surely a sign. Her head told her different. Look at your sister and Bryce, it prodded. Their relationship wasn’t just sex.

She grinned despite the serious thoughts raging in her head. Obviously, Kate’s current condition meant they obviously were active in that department. The smile faded. No, it wasn’t just sex—they had something Jen just couldn’t put her finger on.

Jen stared at the wall, unseeing as she remembered watching the build of emotions between the pair. How she’d watched the relationship grow. Granted, she told herself, the beginning had been rocky. Bryce had almost torn her sister a new one after falling in the boat, but once they’d both calmed down, things had been different. The relationship had grown naturally—love slow and sure. She remembered the attraction from day one, now that she thought about it.

Walking across the jetty on arrival to Pitcairn, the draw between the pair had been noticeable to everyone—including Celia, who had tried to destroy the new relationship almost as soon as it had begun.

So, she wondered, what makes Felix and me any different?

Why question it? Why not take this for what it is? she asked herself. He’s not asked me to marry him, just trust the experience. Stop trying to analyze every second. Just enjoy the moment.

“What are you thinking?” Felix interrupted her reverie.

“Nothing,” Jen said, reluctant to burst the pleasant bubble. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

His low chuckle rumbled through his chest to her back, and she quivered with the sensation. “I can’t sleep. I’m thinking a few things back here, and something’s just come up,” he rumbled. His hand slipped beneath the sheet and slid along her side, slowing to a stop on her hip. Where it rested, a low heat began to spread, and her heart skipped a beat.

“I’m going to have to go pick up my bike from Carrie and Bill’s—they’re going to wonder what the hell’s happened to us…but first…” The hand slipped lower, and Jen closed her eyes and bit her lip as pleasure began to hum with his touch.

She turned in his arms. “To hell with the bike,” she said huskily and claimed his mouth with hers. And to hell with thinking, she thought. Just feel.