A Brit on the Side (Castle Calder Book 1) (2 page)

S
carlett untangles
herself from Jasper’s neck and reaches a hand out for me. “Bea, you remember Jasper, don’t you?”

I take a step closer, but stay out of reach. “Sure, of course. How are you?”

He fixes those eyes on me again. “Really well. Welcome to the other side. Are you still drinking iced tea or has Scarlett finally converted you?”

It’s a totally innocuous thing to say, but I have to will myself not to blush. The last time we had the tea discussion we were in the very small kitchen Scarlett and I shared. I offered Jasper a glass of southern sweet tea, which he refused and proclaimed disgusting. In the end, the only thing we did agree on was ice had its uses. Particularly in foreplay.

“I still like an iced tea now and then.” My voice squeaks. Wow, I sound like a fourteen-year-old trying to talk to her first crush.

No fourteen-year-old should be doing the things Jasper and I did.

As soon as I let that thought cross my mind, I try to unthink it. I’ll never get through my first day here, let alone the whole summer, if I keep this up. I knew there was a chance Jasper would be here and l swore to myself I’d be fine with it. Our weekend together was hot. From listing our favorite sexual preferences and positions to trying half of them. It was decadent. Flirtatious. But not a relationship, not an entanglement, not even an excuse to keep in touch besides an occasional wave in the background of Scarlett’s FaceTime. We haven’t even exchanged an email.

I clear my throat. “How’s Oxford or Cambridge, or wherever you are?”

“Cambridge.” Jasper’s lips turn up in a half smile. “It’s fine, except a pipe burst in the flat above me, flooding my place so not even the electricals work. I’m writing my dissertation and job searching, so I agreed to move out so they could gut the place. Hence the reason I’m here.”

Hence. I try to ignore the thud of disappointment in my stomach. Jasper knew I’d be here. I was lingering in the background the day Scarlett told him I was ditching my summer school teaching gig. His reaction was perfunctory, noncommittal. At the time I’d written it down to Scarlett and the fact she knew nothing about the weekend we spent together. Turns out it wasn’t for Scarlett’s benefit after all.

“That was such a disaster.” Claire pipes in. “Have you heard back from your insurance yet?”

Jasper shakes his head and he and Claire discuss claims while I sidle over towards Scarlett as she makes tea. Mrs. St Julien sets a stack of small plates on the counter, but her attention is on a piece of paper; she’s found a pen somewhere and it looks like she’s checking items off a list.

“Don’t worry, Jaz won’t be around much,” Scarlett says, her voice low.

“What do you mean?” I hug my stomach as if it can keep the butterflies that have suddenly appeared there from taking flight. As far as Scarlett knows, Jasper crashed in her room that weekend and I took him out for ribs. That’s it. She doesn’t know we stayed up talking until dawn, and she certainly doesn’t know what we did on the desk chair in the living room. As far as Scarlett’s concerned, I did her a favor. The end. As far as I’m concerned, it was easier to keep to myself. After all, Jasper had just gotten into his post-grad program at Cambridge. I had a brand new lease with Scarlett and a class of twelve-year-olds to worry about.

Besides, how do you tell your bestie you had the best sex of your life with her older brother in short-term parking? Short answer: you don’t.

“I mean, he’ll be around, but he has his dissertation to write, which gives him a free pass to do as much or as little as he’d like.” Scarlett’s tone makes it clear what she thinks about this.

“Jasper’s…fine. I mean, whatever. He’s fine.” God, that sounds lame. Made all the more so by my stammering.

Scarlett smiles. “I know, but let’s be honest, he’s not the easiest person to get on with.”

Well, no. He’s super smart and has a massive superiority complex, but he’s also got a wicked sense of humor, can be charming as hell, and good Lord, can he kiss. It all evens out, as far as I’m concerned.

“We have sixteen for dinner tonight,” Mrs. St Julien says, waving the list in her hand. “Louise should be here by two, but she’s going to need some hands.”

“I’ll help,” I say. Let Scarlett say what she wants about my kitchen skills.

Mrs. St Julien smiles. “Thank you, Bea.” She raises her eyebrows at Scarlett. “Any other takers?”

Scarlett puts her hands up. “I’m all about the front of house, serving customers and upselling drinks. What about Jasper? He’s not doing anything.”

“Don’t be trying to pawn off your jobs on me,” Jasper says. “Besides, I’ve got a Skype call with a professor at Emory at seven.”

“Emory University? In Atlanta?” I ask the question before my head catches up with my mouth.

“The one and only. I’m in the running for a research position there in the fall,” Jasper says.

Oh.

My.

“That’s great,” Claire says. To Mrs. St Julien, she says, “I can help with dinner. Don’t worry.”

Both Mrs. St Julien and Jasper give her grateful smiles. Claire asks Jasper something about his research – it’s on molecular biology, he says – while Scarlett pours tea. She splashes milk in each cup, then hands them around while Jasper holds forth about nucleotide structures and genetic abnormalities.

I half listen. All I can really focus on is Emory University. In Atlanta. What are the odds? I wonder if he’d stay with Scarlett and me? It would make sense; that’s what he did last time, but that was a week, capped off by the weekend where Scarlett asked me to “pretty please, look after Jasper” because she had an art show in Asheville. And, well, look how that turned out. If the position comes through, we have not only this summer to get through, but the fall too?

I close my eyes. Suddenly the secret I’ve kept from Scarlett feels big. Made bigger by the fact I’ve kept it from her at all. Would she have freaked out? Maybe. Will she freak out now? Oh yes. Because not only have I hooked up with her brother, I hooked up with him and kept it a secret. And if Scarlett’s said it once, she’s said it a thousand times – one of the main reasons she ended up at Georgia State was Jasper. They grew up being super competitive and college was just another scorecard to be gloated over at the other’s expense.
Plus, it was a chance to be out of Jasper’s shadow for once, you know?

I have a few annoyingly perfect cousins, so despite growing up an only child, I do know. I also know nothing casts a shadow like your best friend crushing on your brother. Never mind screwing him.

I feel a hand on my arm and let my eyes flutter open. Claire’s green eyes peer down at me. “Why don’t I show you our cabin? You look like you could use a lie down.”

Scarlett has taken Claire’s place, murmuring with Jasper while they both sip tea, their heads bent close together. Scarlett says they’re Irish twins because their birthdays are less than thirteen months apart, but seeing them standing so close, they could be actual twins with their wavy brown hair and high cheekbones. Jasper’s thick eyebrows are hidden behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses where Scarlett’s are plucked, arched, and perfect, but their features are equally arresting.

I don’t realize I’m staring until Claire clears her throat. I wrench my gaze away and nod. “Sorry. I’m in a jet-lagged daze. Lying down sounds like exactly what I need.”

Scarlett hears and glances up. “I can take you if you want?”

Claire waves her off. “I need to go get my phone anyway. You stay and catch up with Jasper and your mum.”

Scarlett raises her eyebrows at me and I nod. I’m so tired I’d follow this girl I just met anywhere as long as there’s a bed at the end. I don’t say that, but Scarlett must see the weariness in my expression because she grins and says, “You’d better rest up. Dinner service is a bear.”

Claire saves me from making a smart retort by walking out of the kitchen and I follow. She goes back the way we came, out the front door and starts down a path leading away from the castle. I think about asking if we can get my bag out of the car, but the thought of dragging my suitcase with its crappy wheels over the pebbled drive makes me feel even more tired, so I leave it. I’ve got my phone to set an alarm and that’s all I need right now.

Claire turns towards a small stone building at the edge of the tennis courts. There are two windows and a chimney, but it doesn’t look like any cabin I’ve ever seen. But apparently definitions are different here because, sure enough, Claire turns the handle and says, “Here we are. When there are a lot of guests, it’s a good idea to lock the door, but we’ve only got two couples in at the minute, so I don’t usually bother.” She steps in and continues. “It’s small, but functional. There’s no oven, so if you want to cook properly you’ll need to go up to the main house. But there’s a kettle and a microwave, and we’ve got a hob, so it’s not like you can’t fry an egg when you want to.”

I nod, but my attention is on the room itself. It’s not big, but it’s perfect. A small kitchen alcove is framed by a table for two at the window, overstuffed sofas face a stone fireplace, even a grandfather clock ticks away in the corner. “It’s so cozy.”

Claire nods. “They rent this out as self-catering sometimes, but most people who come here want to stay in the castle, so lucky us.”

Seriously. This beats our Atlanta apartment by a mile, even if Scarlett and I can walk to the uber-trendy neighborhood bars nearby. “It’s really great.” My eyes land on a pile of books on the coffee table and my hand flies to my mouth. “I just had a horrible thought. Am I ruining this for you? I mean, you’d have this place all to yourself if it wasn’t for me, right?”

“I might. It depends who they bring on board. A few summers ago I shared with a Polish girl, who was lovely, but I didn’t understand a word she said until about mid-July.” Claire smiles. “Don’t worry. I’d rather have the company than not.”

I hope so. Especially after another horrible thought occurs to me – I hope we’re not sharing a room. There are three closed doors leading off from the main room, but one could be a closet for all I know. Unfortunately, Claire makes no move to open any of the doors to give me a clue either way, so I shuffle my feet and say, “So do you work here every summer?”

“For now. Once I finish my graduate program, I’ll have to get a proper job, I suppose.” Like Scarlett. This is probably her last summer at Castle Calder, which made the invitation to join her even more appealing. Claire continues, “You’re an English teacher, right? Is that what Hannah said?”

“Math, not English. I teach middle school, which Scarlett says you don’t have here. My students are twelve to fourteen, which pretty much means all the hormones, all the time.”

“And you do this job willingly?” Claire asks.

I laugh. “I did my student teaching in high school. Trust me, it’s worse.”

Claire laughs too. “If you say so. I’m probably jaded after seeing the kids here over the years. Best form of birth control on the planet.”

“I believe you. I think anyone considering kids should spend a day with a group of prepubescent girls.” I shake my head. “The only thing that keeps me from total despair is I was one once and I outgrew it.”

Claire laughs again. “We need to put a night on the books for your tales from the dark side. Preferably with a pint in hand.”

“It’s a date. But won’t I be in the kitchen most nights?” The prospect is unnerving to say the least and for the first time I realize I never even asked Scarlett what the work schedule would be like.

“I don’t know, but you’re on tonight, so nothing like getting stuck in.” Claire crosses the room and flings open a door. “I’m so sorry. This is your room. You’re exhausted and here I am babbling on.”

I cross the floor and join her in the doorway. Claire gestures towards the double bed in the center of the room. “If you need anything, let me know. The bed has a proper duvet, so you shouldn’t be cold, but sometimes our American guests are surprised the great British summer isn’t all that summer-like. There are towels in the bath and I’ll get Jasper to bring your case in from the car.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get it later.” I have visions of Jasper walking in on me fast asleep and even though he’d probably turn around and walk right back out, I’d rather not see him one-on-one for the first time with bedhead and raccoon eyes.

“Okay, either way.” Claire clasps her hands together. “Are you all set? Do you need anything else at the minute? Do you need me to wake you?”

I don’t even like Scarlett waking me up, so I assure Claire I’m fine and she scurries out, closing the door gently behind her. I sink down on the bed and look around the room. Like the main part of the cabin, the bedroom is cozy and welcoming. From fresh wildflowers on the dresser to books stacked on the shelf, everything about the room is a gentle invitation to come and stay awhile. The curtains rustle in the breeze from the open window and outside I hear a lawn mower in the distance. Otherwise, silence. I can’t even hear Claire moving around in the rest of the house.

I force myself off the bed to use the small en suite bathroom, which is filled with fluffy white towels and a basket of toiletries on the window ledge. The tub gleams and looks like it was made for bubble baths. It even looks big enough for two.

I squeeze my eyes shut like I can stop the thought from fully forming, but too easily I imagine Jasper and I intertwined in that tub – his lean muscles and long limbs wrapped around mine. Jasper doesn’t have an almost six-pack or biceps like Theo, but he’s hot for a self-proclaimed science nerd.

Which is exactly the wrong way to think about him. Another train of thought I need to derail.

I open my eyes, splash water on my face, and comb my fingers through my tangled black hair before veering back to the bed. I slip my shoes off, peel off my jeans, and yank the comforter – duvet – down with a little too much vigor while forcing myself to focus on the sound of the mower outside. It’s gotten closer. I can smell the freshly cut grass now.

I slide under the duvet and settle back into the pillow, closing my eyes, letting the hum of the mower fill my head. It takes a few minutes, but I haven’t spent all that time practicing yoga for nothing. As my breathing evens out, the mower drowns out any thoughts of Jasper – naked or otherwise – and lulls me to sleep.