Berch (3 page)

The restrooms are down a small hallway, and when I exit into it, Parker is leaning against the wall. My stomach clenches as he speaks softly. “Raven.” His gaze gives me the once over, and I move to walk by.

Of course he doesn’t let me, and I sigh as he stands in my way. “Let me by, Parker.”

He walks toward me, and I step back until I’m against an employee-only door. Living in the city, I’ve been trained in self-defense, and I say, “I’ll scream if you take one more step.”

He frowns. “Have I ever hurt you?” He puts a hand above my head and leans in close. “I want to apologize. I never should have shared what we did. I was a stupid boy. But I’m not like that now.”

“Glad to hear it. Now I’d really like to get back to my friends.” I place my hand on his chest to push him out of my space, and he grabs it. “We were so good together, baby. I’d like to try again.” The heat of his skin sears me.

“You can’t be serious.” I try to pull my hand back, but he grips tighter and I say, “Let me go.” I’ve raised my voice, and panic sends adrenaline to my bloodstream. I’m close to stomping a stiletto though his foot.

Parker’s body is suddenly yanked back as Berch says, “She said let go.” His voice is laced with steel, and something flashes in his eyes.

Parker glares at him, and a low, almost canine rumble sounds from both of them. Berch steps close enough that Parker has to feel his breath. After a moment, Parker throws up his hands. “Hey, man, we were just talking.” He backs away and winks at me. “I’ll be in touch.”

Air whooshes out of my mouth when he turns the corner, and Berch pulls me against his chest. “Did he do anything to hurt you?”

I wrap my arms around Berch’s waist and inhale his scent. “No.” I pull my head back to gaze up at him. “I’m not sure what he wants with me after all this time.”

“You have no idea, do you?” I crinkle my brow at him, and he says, “Don’t worry about him, Raven. As long as you’re with me, nobody can hurt you.”

His voice reverberates through me as if to brand the statement in my mind, and I wonder why both Parker and Berch are so interested.

M
y mom drapes a violet silk scarf over my shoulder. “See how gorgeous this makes your eyes look?”

“Oh, it does. Thanks, Mom.” My eyes are a warm brown, and the purple brings out the golden flecks.

I inhale my mother’s familiar lavender scent as she expertly ties the scarf for me. “Berch Lindholm. Haven’t you been in love with that boy forever?”

“Uh-huh. And he’s not exactly a boy anymore.”

My mom steps back to appraise my outfit. “No, I suppose not. And you’re not a little girl, either.” She smiles at me and her eyes are glassy. “You’re stunning.”

“Thanks.”

I rummage through my makeup bag as she sits on my bed and asks, “Heard back from any firms yet?” Before I came home for the reunion, I applied to almost every investment firm I could find in the New York City area. I refuse to give up.

I sigh. “No. This is getting kind of depressing.” My makeup brush taps as I remove excess powder.

“Don’t let it, honey. I’m a firm believer in things happening for a reason.”

I glance over at her to roll my eyes, and she says, “Like Berch asking you out. Maybe it’s fate telling you to come home and find something here.”

I recall Berch saying that maybe now is our time. “Could be.” I squeeze the eyelash curler and turn to her as I maintain the pressure. “Or it could be that someone wants a roommate.” My father died a couple of years ago, and with my younger sister off at college, my mom is all alone in our big house.

“Busted.” She offers me a sheepish smile.

The mascara wand is smooth in my hand as I focus on applying it without poking myself in the eye. “I feel like it’s failing if I move back home.”

“Happiness isn’t about a location.”

I think about how lonely I’ve been in the city and the fun I had last night with three people who have stayed in Winter Valley. But I’ve got more important things on my mind. I’m going out with Berch tonight. I take one last look at my makeup and turn to my mom.

“What do you think?”

“Nailed it.”

***

K
nowing I’d have to climb into Berch’s truck, I wore a dress in stretch fabric along with another pair of stilettos. It’s still not very practical, but at least I won’t rip out a seam. And let’s be real: Berch likes my legs, and I’d be a fool not to work that angle.

The doorbell rings, and my heels click as I make my way to let him in. I open up to Berch holding a bouquet of lilacs. The scent always reminds me of the day he saw me with the purple blossoms I’d stuck in my braids and told me I looked like a princess. I was seven and have held on to the memory all these years. “Thank you, these are beautiful.”

I lead him to the kitchen, and he says, “Lilacs make me think of you. I remember how you liked to stick them in your hair.”

He does?
I melt a little on the inside as my mother greets him. “Berch, how wonderful to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Lynch.”

A cabinet clicks as she opens it and retrieves a vase. “How are your parents?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Water rushes as I fill the glass container for the lilacs, and my mom says, “Good to hear. I look forward to working on the town gardens with your mother again this year. She’s got a good eye for landscape design.”

I raise my eyebrows at my mom for not telling me she’s working with Mrs. Lindholm. Berch says, “And she tells me you’ve got quite a green thumb.”

“I try. But our success is because we have a good team.” She takes the flowers from me, and the vase thumps on the kitchen table where she places it. “You two have a lovely evening. And Raven, don’t worry about when you get in. I won’t wait up.”

Berch takes my arm. “I’ll take care of your daughter, Mrs. Lynch.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I glance over my shoulder at her to send a quick glare. She winks at me, and I wonder what else she hasn’t shared.

When we get to Berch’s truck, his eyes crinkle with a smile as I pause to decide if I should hike my dress up or chance stretching it as I step on the running board. He asks, “Need me to lift you in again?”

“I—” I gasp as he grips my hips and hoists me into the seat before I can answer. His touch makes me tingle as I slide back on the cool leather. “Okay, then, I guess that wasn’t really a question.”

Berch shrugs, and the seat belt hums as he pulls it across my lap to click it into place. “I’m trying to encourage more dresses and skirts.” His grin is sly as he shuts my door, and it makes me chuckle.

After he gets in and the engine roars to life, I ask, “Where are you taking me?”

“My place. I’m cooking for you.”

If this were a first date with any other guy, I’d be uncomfortable about going to his house, but not with Berch. “That sounds wonderful. What’s on the menu?”

“Fish, wine, and a confession.”

“Confession? That sounds ominous.” The sun is beginning to set, and the orange glow is bright on the horizon, making me squint as I flip down the visor.

Berch reaches over and takes my hand. “It kind of is.” He turns the steering wheel easily with one hand as we exit my street to the main road. “What do you know about the wolves at Silver Lake?”

One of the favorite ghost stories told when I was growing up was about werewolves who live in our town, and I always wondered if there was some truth to it, because kids were warned against going to the lake after dark. “I’ve heard they’re dangerous at night.”

“Do you believe it?”

“I don’t know. But you live on the lake, so what do you think?”

Berch doesn’t answer right away, and I glance at him to study his face. He squeezes my hand and brings the warmth he generates to the forefront of my mind. “Some of them are. But most are not.”

“Great. You’re taking me to your house on Silver Lake. It will be dark soon. And you know it’s dangerous.” I grin at him so he’ll know I’m joking.

“Maybe I’m the one you should be afraid of.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because when I decide I want something, I get it. And I want you, Raven.”

I thread my fingers through his. “That doesn’t frighten me one bit.”

“Don’t be so sure. You haven’t heard my confession yet.”

He releases my hand and turns the truck onto a dirt road. The shocks squeak as we bounce over the uneven terrain, and I hold up my hand to block the glare of the sun. “Berch Lindholm, I’ve known almost everything about you for most of my life. There’s nothing you can confess that will scare me.”

We turn down a small one-lane road that leads to the water, and trees block the sunset from my view. I glance over at Berch to see his serious gaze as he says, “We’ll see about that.”

B
erch’s house is bigger than I expected, and we pull into the attached two-car garage. The automatic door creaks as it lowers behind us, and I hike up my skirt to step out of the truck quickly. But I’m not fast enough, and Berch gets a glimpse of my bare thighs. He lifts his gaze to my face and wiggles his eyebrows. “I really should let you do this on your own.”

I hit his arm lightly with the back of my hand. “Give me a tour.”

“Right this way.” Berch grabs my hand and leads me through a door that takes us to a small mudroom and then to the kitchen. He flips on lights that glow over the black granite countertop speckled with shimmery silver. Stainless steel appliances stand out against the charcoal-colored cabinets and red walls.

“Great kitchen. Do you like to cook?” I ask.

“I’m getting there. After a few months of takeout, I decided I needed to learn, so I’ve been teaching myself.” Light flashes as he opens the refrigerator. “Wine?”

“Sure.” The counter is cool under my hand as I drag it across the top while I wander toward the great room. “I know what you mean. I got tired of salads in plastic containers and decided the same thing.”

The living space is expansive with a high-peaked ceiling, and I make my way to the sliding glass doors that open to a deck. The sun is halfway below the horizon, making the lake glisten in the orange twilight. “What a gorgeous view.”

I glance out to find a sailboat tied to the dock. It’s appropriate that a quiet man wouldn’t own a motorboat, and I smile. Berch’s feet thud behind me, and I turn to take a glass from him. “So far you’re not scaring me one bit. This house is wonderful.”

“Come.” Berch takes my hand, and we move toward a hallway. He tilts his glass to the right, and I glance into a room that looks like an office. “My study.” He turns to the left. “And this is a guest room.”

I peek into a room decorated in soft shades of blue before we approach the stairs. We pass a bathroom and laundry room on the way, and Berch says, “I know this house is big for just me, but I had it built with a family in mind, because I don’t intend to move.”

Carpet muffles our steps when we get to the second floor, and we walk past three bedrooms and a bathroom before we get to the master suite. The room is huge, and so is the four-poster bed in dark-stained wood. But my eyes are drawn to the picture window that overlooks the lake. The sun has just fallen below the horizon, and I walk over. “It’s even more spectacular up here.”

“What is?”

“The lake.” I turn to Berch. “You must love waking up to this.”

“I do. I’m fortunate that my family owns so much land here.”

Tart white wine coats my tongue when I take a sip, and I return my focus to the water. Berch leans close and points across the lake. “My brother Bosun and his wife live over there.” He moves his hand and says, “And my brother Brindle and his family are there. You can’t see it, but my parents are across from him.”

“So the Lindholms all live on the lake?”

“We do. It’s a nice combination of being close but having enough space if we need it.”

“That is nice.”

Berch’s body is inches from mine, and I lean into him without thinking. He slips an arm around my waist. “Could you imagine living here?” he asks. His glass clinks as he sets it on the windowsill, and he reaches for mine.

With you?
Lust rushes through me as he turns me by my hip to face him. I gaze at his mouth, wanting to taste it, and I don’t know how to answer. My voice is low when I finally say, “I’m not sure.”

Berch takes my face in his hands and leans down. He whispers, “Perhaps I need to convince you.”

I grasp his arms to steady myself when Berch Lindholm’s lips meet mine and he finally kisses me. My fantasies flash through my mind, but the real thing is better than I imagined. It’s as if he knows what I like, and our tentative nibbles make way for something hungrier as our tongues join in. My hands move up his arms, and I grip strong biceps, wishing I were touching skin instead of soft cotton.

He breaks away and sighs. “Raven.”

I touch my lips lightly and smile. “Berch.”

“Come. I’m making you dinner.”

“Right.” I take a deep breath and grab the glass he hands me. “Dinner.”

When we get to the kitchen, I’m put to work cutting a sweet onion and sautéing it to caramelize while Berch dresses red snapper with a variety of spices. He asks, “Have you heard from Morgan Stanley?”

I push an onion ring with my tongs and watch the oil coat the translucent slice. “Not yet.” And part of me hopes I don’t, because then I would have to leave Berch. I shake the thought, because that would be giving up.

“If you want a job here, I have a friend who works for a firm downtown. I’d be happy to get you an interview.”

Berch has rolled up his sleeves, and the muscles in his forearm flex as he lifts the tray of fish to make his way out to the grill. The idea of those arms holding me instead clouds my mind, and I say, “Maybe.” Why would I leave now that I have something started with the man I’ve wanted all my life? “Make that a strong maybe.”

I’m rewarded with a huge grin. “I’ll take that as a challenge and do my best to change your answer to a yes.”

What am I saying? I’m not the kind of girl to let go of a career goal for some guy. Even if it’s the one I’ve wanted all my life.

W
e eat in front of a fire, and the flames make shadows dance along the walls. I sigh as I push my plate away. “That was the most delicious meal I’ve had in a long time. You put my cooking skills to shame.” I lean back in my chair and swirl the wine in my glass.