Christmas Blue at Flynn's Page 8

  “I’ll have some.”

  Ben couldn’t believe it. The idiot actually held out his glass. Like he expected Rosie to pour it for him.

  Amaris watched with interest.

  Rosie held the bottle tighter. “You. Invited. Me.”

  “Plenty of food for everyone.” Flynn waved a hand around. “Look at all this food. Sit down, Rosie, have some more food. Please.”

  Oh boy.

  Ben got to his feet. “Now, everyone. It’s a lovely evening. Good food, good friends-” nearly choked on that one - “let’s enjoy ourselves.”

  “You invited me!” Rosie shrieked.

  Holy shit, that shriek went right through Ben. And everyone else. Flynn actually flinched.

  More concerned about her than Dax, Ben quickly pulled Flynn behind him while trying to calm the enraged Rosie down. “Now, Rosie, take it easy. It’s not that bad-”

  “You bastard!” Rosie flung the bottle at Dax.

  He ducked at the last second and it sailed over his head to thud into the grass.

  “And you think me getting drunk is a bad idea,” Rocky muttered.

  “Shut your cakehole,” Gram snapped as everyone scrambled away from the table.

  Amaris stood back, but her expression was thoughtful. “Emotions battered are torn from the life of feelings.”

  “Whatever the hell that means.” Gram jerked a thumb towards Rosie. “I suggest you batter somewhere else because that crazy sheila is going to go nuts.”

  “No!” Flynn stepped forward. “Everyone just stop!”

  Rosie flung herself at Dax and he went arse-up on the grass with the dreamy, romantic, floaty-type of girl on top of him trying to throttle him.

  Archie and Rocky leapt to his rescue, dragging her off.

  While Dax gasped and tried to get his breath back, Rosie screeched like a banshee.

  “Now now, sweetie.” Flynn tried desperately to calm her down. “Don’t do this, Rosie, he’s not worth it.”

  Rolling on the grass and gasping, Dax didn’t even have the breath to get indignant.

  “You invited me!” Rosie screamed. “We were together! You were my forever man! How could you do this?”

  “Geez.” Gramma chewed her nails. “The neighbourhood’s going to hear her.”

  “Anyone got a gag?” Gram asked.

  Worried that Flynn was going to get a smack in the eye from Rosie’s furiously waving fists, Ben pulled her to his side.

  “Maybe a bucket of water would help,” Archie suggested. “Cool that temper off a bit.”

  “I’m really worried,” Flynn whispered. “I’ve never seen her like this.”

  “Yeah.” Ben watched Rosie, wondering what she’d do next.

  “Should we call an ambulance or something?”

  “You thinking straight jacket?”

  “No! Tranquilizer!”

  “Unless they dart her like a raging bull elephant, Flynn, I don’t think that’ll work.”

  “We have to do something!”

  Ben totally agreed. This was getting well out of hand.

  Striding forward, he placed himself between Dax on the ground and Rosie raging in Archie’s grip, effectively blocking the object of her fury from sight. “Rosie. Listen to me.”

  “I’ll kill you, you piece of horse dunky!” Rosie shook a fist furiously.

  “Horse dunky?” Gram echoed. “What the heck is horse dunky?”

  “Polite word for horse shit, probably,” Rocky replied. “Wow, and your granddaughter thinks I lose control when I drink too much. I’ve got nothing on this nutcase.”

  Seeing that Rosie had no intention of stopping her embarrassing carry-on, Ben roared, “Rosie!”

  Everyone recoiled.

  Ignoring their shock, he lowered his voice and said sternly to a gob-smacked Rosie, “This isn’t helping anything. Now stop that shrieking like a fishwife and pull yourself together. You’re at Flynn’s home. Where’re your manners?”

  She stared at him.

  Flynn moved up beside Ben, but he put one arm out to keep her partially behind him, not trusting of Rosie’s reaction and not willing to risk Flynn’s safety.

  “I know you’re upset.” Flynn’s voice was soothing. “Come with me inside.”

  “Flynn…” Ben wasn’t so sure that was wise.

  Then Rosie burst into tears, Flynn pushed past him and next thing Rosie was bawling on Flynn’s shoulder while Flynn patted her back.

  Seeing that Flynn wasn’t in danger of being hurt, Ben turned to check on Dax to find him standing with one hand to his throat. “You all right?”

  Dax winced. “She tried to kill me.”

  “You invited Rosie and forgot?” Ben shook his head. “What kind of a heartless idiot are you?”

  “I didn’t know she’d react like that!”

  “Just goes to show,” Archie commented. “Even the gentlest filly has teeth.”

  Gramma glared at him.

  “And a kick to rattle your balls.”

  Gramma folded her arms.

  “In fact, you’re lucky you still have yours, boy.”

  Amaris seemed to be taking it well. She simply stood there like some kind of Goth statue.

  “Maybe now we can sit and eat.” Archie marched back to the table. “I didn’t cook all that meat just to watch the blowies get to it.”

  Gramma observed Rosie. “You okay with her, Flynn?”

  “Fine.” Flynn started to lead Rosie to the house. “You all go and finish tea.”

  Ben frowned. “I’ll save you some food.”

  She flashed a grateful smile over her shoulder. “Thanks, Ben.”

  They’d all just sat down when Sally stopped scrolling and yelled, “Sid! You bastard!”

  Exasperated, Archie threw his fork down. “Now what?”

  “Sid isn’t even here,” Gram pointed out.

  “Put the phone away, for goodness sake!” Gramma ordered, annoyed.

  This could not be happening. Ben watched Sally jab numbers into the phone with her thumbs, then she slammed the mobile onto the table.

  “Hello?” Sid’s voice was clear to hear.

  “Sid, you cheating, lying, low-life scum!” Sally yelled into the phone.

  “What? Sally?”

  “I saw you, Sid! I saw you on your social media page!”

  “You what?”

  By now everyone had stopped to listen.

  Ben sighed.

  “You and Mandy! You and Mandy naked in the hot tub!”

  “What?” There was the sound of something, a voice in the background, then “Oh shit!”

  “You uploaded the wrong photo!” a female voice cried out on the other end of the mobile.

  “You cheater!” Sally was practically frothing at the mouth. “You cheated on me! With Mandy! How could you?”

  “I can explain!”

  Oh boy.

  Gramma had one hand over her eyes. “Turn off the mobile, Sally!”

  “Yeah, you explain, Sid!” Sally yelled. “You explain to me how we only just met Mandy and Daryl a few days ago, how we were all friends, and then you cheat on me! Explain, Sid! Explain!”

  “Wow,” said Gram. “This is like TV.”

  “Wish I could turn it off,” growled Archie. “This is beyond the joke. I’m going home.” With that he started loading food onto a plate.

  Obviously he meant to pack previsions for the long trek next door.

  “Take Sid off speaker.” Flynn was standing on the veranda, her expression tight as she listened to Sally and Sid yelling at each other. “And stop yelling, Sally.”

  Ben was just about to reach over and grab the mobile to turn it off when a siren sounded from the front of the house.

  Everyone froze.

  Except Sally, who kept ranting.

  Ben’s gaze met Flynn’s. His heart broke for her. She looked horrified, mortified, and disbelieving all at once.

  “What’s going on here?” A police officer rounded the corner of the hous
e with a second officer behind him.

  “Um - uh - nothing,” stuttered Flynn. “Really. I - it didn’t - why are you here?”

  The cop’s assessing gaze took in Sally still yelling on her phone and Rosie crying quietly in the shelter of Flynn’s arm. “There’s been a report of a disturbance. Yelling, swearing, fighting.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.” Archie shook his head. “This is the second blue here at Flynn’s since this lot arrived.”

  Gramma sucked in a breath. “What did you just say?”

  “I need a drink,” Rocky stated.

  Looking up, Sally spotted the police and burst into tears. Picking up her mobile, she threw it into the bushes.

  Because, Ben thought with a sigh, that made everything better. Not.

  Gramma and Archie were arguing.

  Gram was forcibly stopping Rocky from getting another beer.

  Dax had one hand to his throat.

  Amaris was still doing her Goth statue impression.

  Rosie was sobbing.

  And Flynn - ah Jesus, his heart broke for her. Flynn looked utterly devastated.

  ~*~

  Ben had taken control.

  Sitting on his back veranda yet again, gazing out into the night, Flynn sighed.

  Ben had taken control, explained the situation to the cops, stood staunchly by her side through the whole humiliating ordeal, and after, too.

  After, when the police had gone, and she’d turned to her grumbling family and uninvited guests to say with deadly quietness, “Anyone not of my blood, go home. Now.”

  Rocky and Archie had strode off shaking their heads, Archie to eat his pilfered food and Rocky for a beer.

  Rosie had sniffled and wailed all the way off the property and Flynn simply hadn’t cared.

  Amaris had smiled thinly. “Blood is thick, bonds are tight, others are lost in the wind.”

  “Take your freakin’ wind and blow,” Flynn had retorted sharply. When Gramma had opened her mouth to admonish her, Flynn had stabbed a finger in her direction and growled, “Not one word. Not. One. Freakin’. Word.”

  Gramma looked like she wanted to argue but Gram must have seen something on Flynn’s face, because she’d grabbed Gramma’s arm. “Let’s give Flynn a little time to herself, shall we?”

  Dax chose to leave with Amaris, casting Flynn a wary glance as he passed her, while Sally seethed silently over Sid but wisely kept her mug shut and followed the grandmothers into the house.

  That left Flynn alone with Ben.

  When she turned to look at him, he’d simply gathered her into his arms.

  She couldn’t cry. Her throat was thick with tears, her chest actually ached. She was humiliated beyond belief, angry beyond anything she’d ever felt in her life, and just wanted someone to understand.

  That had been Ben. Sweet, kind Ben who had just stood silently and rocked her gently, steadying her as the adrenalin surge faded, waiting patiently, total support in his very stance. It was more than her family had shown.

  After several minutes he’d led her over to the fence, lifted her up onto the milk crate and followed her over the fence into his yard. Flynn had dropped down onto the steps of his veranda and simply looked into the darkening yard.

  So quiet.

  So peaceful.

  She was never going back until the bloody family was gone.

  Phoebe trotted out of the house and bumped her head against her arm.

  “Oh, Phoebes.” Gathering the little Siamese into her arms, Flynn buried her face in the cat’s tummy.

  Phoebe purred and kneaded the top of her head.

  Scruff came out, hopped down the steps, attended Important Yorkie Business in the gardenias, trotted back and curled up on the bottom step, resting his hairy little chin on Flynn’s foot.

  Gradually her slightly ragged breathing slowed down, the tightness in her throat eased, and the tension slid away from her shoulders. The cat and the dog provided warm, comforting, accepting presences which helped her calm down.

  She wasn’t sure how long it was until Ben padded across the veranda and sat down beside her, his strong thigh resting lightly alongside hers.

  Embarrassed, she lifted her face from Phoebe’s tummy to find him holding two mugs of hot tea, steam curling from the rims. Without saying a word, he passed her one of the mugs. As she took it, Phoebe rolled over onto her paws and jumped down to explore the garden. Prudently, she avoided the gardenias.

  Stars pricked the darkening sky as they sat and blew on the hot liquid.

  Ben broke the silence first. “Okay?”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  She flapped a hand towards her house.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He rested one big hand on her knee, gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “I’m related to them.”

  “Can’t help that.”

  “I can’t believe the way they acted.”

  “They acted. That’s the key word, Flynn, they. Not you. They are responsible for their actions. Not you.”

  “I can’t believe the cops were called.” She carefully rolled the mug between her palms. “I’ve never had the police to my house. Someone actually complained about the blue. Another blue. Oh God, what a mess.”

  “Rosie and Sally.” Ben shrugged. “They should know better than to cause such a scene.”

  Yeah, that said it all. Still… She bit her lip.

  “What’s wrong, Flynn?”

  She bit her lip harder.

  “Don’t.” He rubbed his thumb gently along her lip. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “I just…” She took a deep breath, lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Does this change things between us?”

  He looked blank. “What?”

  “Seeing what my family is like. Have you - have you changed your mind about, you know, me and you?”

  He stared at her for several seconds before his eyebrows popped up. “Are you serious?”

  She nodded miserably.

  “Flynn, how could you even think such a thing?” he asked incredulously.

  “After what happened, how can I not?”

  He frowned.

  Her fingers tightened on the mug. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said - I shouldn’t have - oh poop!” Her voice wobbled.

  Immediately his expression softened. “Baby, nothing can change my opinion of you. I know you. I’ve lived next door to you for a whole year, been friends with you. I’m not judging you by your family.”

  Relieved, she managed a wobbly smile. “Thanks.”

  Come here.” Slinging an arm around her shoulders, he tucked her into his side, pressed a kiss to her temple.

  Soooo nice. With a contented sigh, she leaned against him.

  After several seconds of silence, he murmured, “Just so you’re aware, if I didn’t know how important to you this Christmas get-together was, I’d have told them to take a hike within a couple of days of them arriving.”

  “My hero.” She patted his leg with her free hand.

  “Apparently a sissy hero.”

  “Archie can go jump in a lake.” She watched Phoebe stalk a moth across the lawn. “He wouldn’t know a real man if it slapped him in the kisser.”

  “Aw, baby.” Amused, he rubbed his cheek against her head. “You’re all protective.”

  “Of course I am.” Flynn savoured the flavour of the tea. “I know you’re all man. Men come in different shapes and sizes and nature. They’re not all tough, rough, and buff.”

  “Thanks.” There was a distinct pause, then, “I think?”

  Now it was her turn to look up at him. Had she offended him? But no, he was just looking at her with laughter making those lovely brown eyes twinkle. Man wasn’t egotistical, that was for sure. Definitely comfortable in his own skin.

  Nevertheless, she hastened to explain. “You’re the kind of man a woman wants. Steady, loyal, sense of humour, dependable, kind to animals, and above all…”

>   “I can’t wait. Yes?”

  “You have impeccable manners.”

  “I do, don’t I?” he agreed rather smugly.

  “The best.”

  “It’s one of my stronger traits.”

  “Along with your modesty?”

  “You noticed, right?”

  “Couldn’t help it,” she said dryly.

  Laughing, he took her empty mug and stood up. “Come on.”

  Curiously, she got to her feet. “Where are we going?”

  “We missed out on dessert. Unless you want me to fetch it?”

  “Go near that house next door? Are you kidding? The people there are insane, haven’t you noticed?”

  “You’re right. This is why I have a back-up plan.”

  “You do? What is it?”

  “Trust me.”

  She trusted him, which is why fifteen minutes later they walked out of the little deli several streets away holding ice creams. Hand-in-hand they strolled leisurely back towards their street, licking the cold creamy mounds while enjoying the cool evening breeze.

  Now this, Flynn decided, was Heaven. She could have spent hours just ambling along, enjoying both ice cream and Ben’s company, his big hand holding hers in a warm, comforting grip, their fingers interlaced, palms together.

  Perfect ending to an otherwise shitty day, of which she had no intention of thinking about.

  In fact, as the quiet, steady presence of Ben soothed her, she became more and more aware of him. Of Ben. His strong hand, his reassuring presence, the way he placed himself between her and the road, his scent of soap and masculine deodorant.

  The warmth of his body, the lean hip brushing against her, the swell of his muscular arm as it brushed against hers.

  His warmth stole through her, heightened her senses so that she became more acutely aware of him.

  As she finished the ice cream and licked her fingers, she couldn’t help but steal a glance to where he was finishing his own ice cream. Masculine lips closing over the last bit of cone, white teeth crunching through it, firm jaw moving as he chewed.

  Imagining those lips elsewhere, desire coiled through her, made her a little hotter as she fantasized about the sweep of his tongue on her skin, the tips of his sure fingers trailing over her body.

  The pit of her stomach pitched, heated.

  Her fingers tightened in his. Lifting their linked hands, he brushed his lips across the back of her hand and holy heck, there was definitely something dark, deep, and hot in his eyes. A mutual sizzling attraction.