Read Loving Your Lies Online

Authors: Piper Shelly

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #adventure, #cancer, #runaway, #sad, #france, #angel, #teen, #london, #summer, #teenager, #first kiss, #ya, #first love, #best friend, #mother daughter, #teen romance, #orphanage, #new adult, #vineyards

Loving Your Lies (12 page)

Crushed stone crackled under my boots as I
twirled along the path, drinking in the beauty of this place.
Thousands of shrubs, tied to wires, stood like tin soldiers. They
reached no farther than up to my chin.

“Wicked,” I breathed.

“I am not surprised you like them.” Marie
grinned. “Some say, one either hates the vines, or loves them for
lifetime. In your case I would say, it is in your blood to feel
close to the vineyards.”

It was in my blood? What a strange choice of
words. Yet, this little piece of earth connected with me in an
instant. Invisible roots grew from my feet, dug through the stony
surface, and anchored me to France. A warm vibration in my body
tried to feign that I’d finally come home.

Get a grip, idiot. This is the land of the
enemy.

I straightened my back, and the muscles in
my face hardened. “What do you want me do?” My ice cold voice
detached me from my aunt as well as the vineyards.

Marie tapped a finger to her lips. “You can
see if Julian needs help with the fertilizer.”

I tracked the direction of her outstretched
arm. Some eighty feet across the field, Julian scooped white powder
out of a bucket and tossed it without much concern underneath the
bushes. I could do that.

Lou-Lou’s paws pounded on the dirt behind me
as I jogged over to him. While I had trouble climbing through
between the two lines of wire ropes stretching along each row, the
dog simply dodged them.

Seven rows of shrubs farther west, Julian
greeted me with a laugh. “Seems like you made a new friend.”

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want to let her
next meal out of sight,” I muttered, eyeing the colossal dog
sideways.

Julian set the bucket on the overturned soil
and wrinkled his nose. “I really scared you with that silly story,
didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t.” Unable to help myself, I
stuck my tongue out at him. “But I think you owe me an apology for
trying.” Fists planted on my hips, I waited for him to say,
I’m
sorry, Jona
.

A chuckle ripped from his chest instead.
“Rrright.”

My ego stomped an invisible foot on the
ground. “That so didn’t sound like an apology.”

Bucket in hand again, he ignored my
complaint and continued his work, with me fast on his heels. The
smirk he cast me over his shoulder irritated me like hell.

He’d better not dare think I followed him
out of boredom. Or worse, interest. After all, I came over to work.
“Marie said I should help you with, um, whatever you’re trying to
do here.” I waved a hand at the powder he dropped in fistfuls to
the ground every few feet.

“And here I thought you already took a shine
to me,” he teased.

So says the guy who woke me this morning
by tickling my nose.
I snorted and fell back a few steps.

Julian jerked his head, motioning for me to
follow him. “Come on, Jona. Of course, I know you came here to
work.” His laughter chimed out warm and fair and assured me he was
just trying to wind me up again.

I paced up to match his stride. “Fine. What
exactly am I supposed to do?”

He handed me the half empty bucket. “For
starters, you dust the roots along the path with this powder. I’ll
go fetch another bucket.”

In a graceful jump, he took the two rows to
our left and headed for some sort of square container. Lou-Lou
chased him with a happy bark, for twenty feet, then she angled off
as a bird caught her eye.

While Julian filled an empty pail with the
contents of a man-high box, I dug my hand into the fine powder and
let it run through my fingers. What could a substance similar to
flour do to the vine?

Following Julian’s example, I dropped a
handful to the ground, trying to draw a small white circle around
the stem of a little bush.

“You don’t have to be that precise,” he said
behind me, tossing a fistful to the ground on the other side of the
path. “Rain will wash the powder in, so the roots can soak it from
the wet dirt.”

Facing the clear sky, I squinted against the
burning sun. “Doesn’t look like it will rain any time soon.”

“Then the sprinkler will do the job.” He
winked and continued to toss the floury matter.

Even after he’d turned away from me, I still
stared at his back. I couldn’t understand how such small moves from
his side set my heart at a jungle drum beat. He had me yearning for
more of his attention. I flexed my shoulders, shook off the
annoying feeling, then continued with the sprinkling.

The bottom of the bucket had already come
into view, when quick, heavy footfalls crushed the stone behind me.
I jerked out of my monotone work. Pail flying, I spun on my heel to
gaze into the beaming face of a tiny woman who resembled a teapot.
Her hair, no longer than my pinky, shone silvery gray in the
morning light and curled like pigtails all over her head.

Her lips pulled back in an eerie wide smile,
revealing a set of healthy white, but uneven teeth. Stunned, I
focused on her heavy eyelids that looked as if they yearned to
close over her bright green eyes.

“Ah, Jona!” she cried out in delight,
pronouncing my name
Shonáh.
Arms spread wide, she sang out
in French,

Je suis très heureuse de faire ta
connaisance
!”

I had no idea what she mumbled.

Then she pulled me into a tight hug. My body
shaped against her round belly, she swayed me a couple of times
from side to side. Her embrace knocked the air out of my lungs.
Dumbstruck, I clung to her shoulders, so as not to tip over by her
enthusiasm.

Only when she let go of me, I managed to
croak a hoarse, “Hello.”

The teapot shot a few more words in French
at me. I finally caught the name Valentine and figured she was
trying to introduce herself. Obviously she knew my name, if not the
right pronunciation, so I replied, “Ah, yes.”

A moment later she hugged me again then
shuffled away.

“Now, that was weird,” I whispered after she
was gone, trying to gather my composure. “French people seem to be
a happy folks.” Always friendly to strangers and blessed with a
smile that they seemed to wear all day.

To my left, Julian chuckled low and deep.
“Valentine was pleased to meet you. And she doesn’t speak
English.”

Head angled, I mimicked his lopsided smile.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

His laughter shook us both as he wrapped one
arm around my neck and pulled me forward. The warm ocean scent of
his skin overlapped the intense smell of the young vine. I breathed
in deeply then swallowed hard.

The small hairs on his forearm tickled my
chin and made me aware of how close he really was. His side rubbed
against mine, the warmth of his body seeped into my skin. I felt
way too comfortable in his embrace. For a brief moment, I longed to
rest my head on his shoulder. I tilted my chin to gaze at his
cheerful eyes before I pushed out of his hold.

He wasn’t my friend and sure shouldn’t be so
close. And most important, I shouldn’t feel so good around him.

Julian studied me for a second. Though he
didn’t say a word, I could read the question clearly in his quiet,
blue eyes.
Is it really so bad
?

It was too nice. And that was the
problem.

His glance lowered to my chest. “Oh bugger,
I smudged your shirt.”

I pulled at my tee. The powder on his hand
had left a white trace on the collar of my V-neck. Before I could
dust it off, Julian was already brushing the fabric, giving me a
quick start. But he only messed the mark of three fingers into one
white blur.

“Stop it.” I slapped his hand away and
laughed. The powder wouldn’t be padded off, not even with my clean
hand. “You ruined my tee.”

“And I had a nice time doing so.” Julian
smirked. “Don’t worry, princess. A shirt isn’t something that can’t
be washed.” He tapped my nose with his powdered finger then
returned to dusting the roots.

Hand shoved into the white material, I
flounced before him. “You’re right. It can be washed—” A big grin
sat on my lips as I pressed my palm to his chest, leaving a white
mark on his midnight blue shirt.

Julian didn’t seem surprised, nor did he
bother to wipe off the dirt. Instead he made one threatening step
forward and leaned close to my ear. “I guess you would kill me if I
did the same to you.” His suggestive words set a bunch of
butterflies on the loose in my stomach.

As he pulled me against him, his strong hand
on my bottom made me suck in a breath. His whiskers rubbed against
my cheek, playing havoc with my senses. With my front pressed
against his, a weakness settled in my knees. I dreaded to collapse
in his arms any moment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have my revenge.” His
voice had dropped an entire octave.

If I weren’t out of my mind at this second,
I would have sworn he nuzzled my temple. Before I could gather my
thoughts, he let go of me and continued his walk.

My heart pounded like mad. I took a moment
to steady my knees. Better stay a little farther behind, out of his
reach.

We continued our task in silence. When it
was time to refill our buckets, he got me set with a full pail but
left his empty one by the container. “Can you continue alone for a
while?”

“Sure.” I frowned. “Where are you going?” I
didn’t want him to leave me.

“I won’t be long. You just finish this line,
and I’ll do the other side when I come back.” He strode off before
I could agree to his order.

Headed toward the house, his pace increased
while I watched him. Maybe he needed to pop to the loo. But he
could have said so when I asked. I shook my head, returning to the
task.

Without him, dusting the ground was a darn
boring job. I’d covered about twenty yards when Marie found me. At
her side walked a man with shocking red hair and a big bulbous
nose.

“This is Henri,” she said.

The man held out his hand, and my own got
lost in the cup of his chunky fingers. With Valentine being a
teapot and this man as tall and slim as a beanpole, they really
were a mismatched couple.

“Hello, Henri.” I tried to imitate the sound
of his name the way Marie had said it.
Ou-ree
.

He flashed a chipped-toothed smile and
squeezed my fingers. From his silence and nodding, I gathered he
too didn’t speak English. Cool, one more person I didn’t have to
talk to, although he and his wife seemed like nice people.

Attention dedicated to strewing again, I
whirled around once more at my aunt’s amused chuckle.

“Jona,” she snorted. “What is that on your
backside?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” I twisted my neck
to catch a glimpse of my bum, first left then right. A powdery
handprint glimmered on my pants.

I growled, dusting my butt to get rid of the
traitorous mark of Julian’s hand. The bastard had gotten his
revenge indeed. “This will cost him his head!”

Julian came back half an hour later. Too
long for a loo-break. Most of my anger had blown off by that time,
too. And the bottle of mineral water he handed me vaporized the
rest of my annoyance.

“Stay hydrated on hot days like this, or
you’ll end up with a headache.” He took a swig from another
bottle.

The wonderful liquid cooled my throat. Until
the first draught, I didn’t even realize how thirsty I was. I
guzzled down half a liter within a few seconds. The rest we left in
the shade beside the container.

The morning went by almost too fast, and
soon Marie called us to come inside for lunch.

“Go with Marie, Princess,” Julian said.
“I’ll come in a few minutes. Your uncle needs help with the dirt
scanner.”

I knew what he talked about. A small machine
Albert had used all morning. A short cable connected a pen-like
thing to a little box in his hand. Randomly, it seemed, Albert dug
the pen into the earth under various shrubs and read information
from the screen on the box. Winemakers used such funny
equipment.

I rushed after Marie. My face red and heated
from the sun, I appreciated the little break in the cool house.
Since I’d refused to eat breakfast this morning, my stomach roared
a starving rumble by the time I sat down at the oval table.

The dragon joined me, yet she was clever
enough to choose the place farthest away from me. Dark rings
shadowed her eyes, and her hand shook as she reached for a glass of
water. Her fingers so bony and slim, it was a miracle she found the
strength to lift the cup to her mouth.

While she drank, she gazed at me over the
brim. Not to show any weakness, I held her stare with a grim
expression. Looking away would have meant I cringed from her.

Unfortunately, eye contact brought her to
bad ideas such as speaking to me. “How did you like the vines?
Julian said you were having a good time outside.”

Julian said
?
Of course, he
came to see her when he left me alone out on the field. Bloody
hell, I should have guessed. A hint of jealousy mingled with rage
at her boldness exploded in my stomach.

“The judge sent me here to work, and that’s
what I did. No more, no less.” I rose from the chair to grab a
drink. Sometimes backing off was the smarter way—whatever was
necessary to make her stop talking to me.

While I filled a glass under the tap, Marie
sneaked closer and wrapped one arm around my waist. “Really? No
more than work?” she whispered. “I thought I heard you
laughing.”

I glared daggers at her, but she beamed.
Jeez, I hated her for being so lovely.

When I lowered into the chair again, my
mother averted her gaze to her folded hands. With her shoulders
hunched, she looked like she couldn’t hold her head up. I didn’t
remember her being haggard like this in London. Actually, she’d
made a rather steady appearance then, apart from her sunken
eyes.

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