Pepper Lane Sweet Shoppe (Pepper Bay #14)

1

Erin

Cold wind whipped around Erin’s face, smacking her long dark hair into her eyes with a sting that brought on tears and annoyance, which was the last thing she needed. The bitter chill had taken hold on the inside of her short jean jacket, and the swirling and curling in the pit of her stomach had her almost doubled-over the handrail she was gripping on to with all her might.

The darkness of the sea almost matched the sky, not that Erin cared. All her mind could focus on was that the ferry taking her over to the Isle of Wight needed to hurry, because she seriously couldn’t take any more of the motion of the ocean. She was sure her face was actually green.

Her head was frazzled, her ears ached, and her reflux was slowly being tortured as she tried so desperately hard not to throw up over the side of the boat. Her knuckles had turned white, and her feet could no longer feel the four-inch heels she was wearing.

Erin groaned as her stomach flipped, inflicting every fibre of her being with the worst feeling ever. ‘I really hate boats.’

‘It’s a lot easier if you sit down,’ called a male voice.

Even moving her head to glance over her shoulder took extreme effort. She couldn’t be entirely sure if the seasickness was causing hallucinations or if it were just her watery eyes blurring her vision, but somewhere in amongst all that fuzz, her brain told her the man sitting behind her was wearing a wedding outfit. Top hat and tails style. Minus the hat. She squinted his way.

Oh great, now I’m seeing things. What is he doing? Is that booze he’s waving at me? Why is this my life? Why am I seeing a drunk groom? And why the hell did I decide to do this stupid trip? Argh! I’m going to throw up… No, no, no. Oh, please, God. Help me. I’m dying. And I’m cold. So cold .

The young man waggled his bottle of gin, gesturing to the seat where he swayed more than the ferry. ‘It’s warmer over here. Just so you know.’

Erin looked at her bent fingers, pretty sure rigor mortis had set in. The idea of sitting down pleased her jelly legs, but her brain told her she wouldn’t be able to make the journey.

‘You need a better coat this time of year. Are you not from this country, lady?’

Yes, I’m from this country, thank you very much. I’m from Yorkshire, and I work in London, and I know I should have a different coat, but clearly I didn’t think things through. Ooh, I need to sit down. No, lie down, or maybe just curl up and die somewhere .

Erin had to let go of the side at some point. Her body was weakening by the second. She tried to close her eyes, but that made matters worse, so she went back to attempting to stare at the horizon, as she had read somewhere that it helped with seasickness.

Nothing was helping, especially the weather. She really hated the cold. November being her least favourite month.

A spray of water hit her face, causing her to blink and let go of the rail. One of her ankles gave way, and as her legs were so weak, she buckled and almost hit the deck, where she knew she would stay because there was no way she would be able to lift herself up once that far down. Mostly because she was past caring.

Man hands were on her stomach, moving up to her armpits, then her body started to move all by itself over to a hard seat that numbed her backside so it matched the rest of her. Someone was sitting to her side, leaning their arm against hers, creating the tiniest amount of warmth to ripple through her skin. She watched a bottle slide into an orange carrier bag and then move upwards. Following the movement with her eyes, she noticed the rim connect with full lips before being waggled inches from her mouth.

It could have been her stomach that groaned or possibly her head, maybe the noise came from her throat as her hand lifelessly slipped down to his wrist to settle there.

The man placed the bottle of alcohol into his other hand, allowing her to rest on him. ‘Why are you out here? It’s warmer inside.’

‘I need fresh air,’ she managed whilst the contents of her stomach weren’t moving.

‘Yeah, well, there’s definitely plenty of that this evening.’

Erin wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, but at the same time, she thought the distraction might be useful. ‘Why are you outside?’ A slight rumble vibrated through her arm as he shuddered out a laugh.

‘I wanted to be by myself.’ He hiccupped, then sniffed and leaned into her a touch more.

‘Oh. Were you jilted at the altar?’ She twitched her knee so it jerked on his grey trousers. ‘Is that why you’re drunk?’

‘I am drunk, aren’t I? But not enough.’ He took another swig, and she felt his hefty sigh move her arm. ‘And to answer your first question… No. My best friend was getting married today, not me. I’m the best man.’ He scoffed, coughed, and took another glug. ‘Was the best man.’

Under normal circumstances, Erin would have probed, but illness had taken priority over the stranger’s wedding disaster story she figured he had. All the same, curiosity was a powerful thing, and she really did need to take her mind off the boat ride from hell. It was just difficult to speak all the while her lips were numb from the cold and her stomach was in knots, causing her need for a bed to rise by a hundred. She tried for some words, but he started to speak again.

‘I caught them, you see.’ He glanced down into her tired eyes as she rolled her head up to look at his face.

She thought he had a nice face, even if drunk. She pegged him for mid-twenties. At least, he looked around her age.

His hair is stuck to his forehead. I wonder if it’s bothering him. I wonder where his top hat went .

‘I’m Tyler Silver.’ He offered the slightest of smiles. ‘Who are you?’

Erin watched his warm, sleepy eyes roll downwards as though he couldn’t hold the weight of them in place any longer. ‘Erin,’ she whispered.

‘My ex-girlfriend’s name is Mandy. She was at the wedding.’ He shook his head slowly, then lowered his cheek to rest on her hair. ‘She kissed the groom. Properly. I walked in. Just before the service.’ He scoffed, jolted, and then settled back down. ‘Been going on for just over a year, apparently.’ He moved his face so they were looking at each other again. ‘Do you believe me, Erin?’

She nodded, but even that was a struggle. Her head needed to be back upon his shoulder. Life was a lot more settled there. As long as nobody moved, she was sure she could make it off the ferry alive.

‘So now I’m drunk,’ he told her flatly.

Erin said the only thing her mind could concentrate on. ‘How long does this ride take?’ It seemed like forever, and she was certain a member of staff had told her they would arrive at the island in a jiffy. She had no idea a jiffy could be so long.

‘We’re here,’ said Tyler, not moving away from her arm.

In one way, that was good news, but Erin had a dilemma. How on earth was she going to make it to land when her body had given up the ghost?

‘Do you have a car?’ asked Tyler.

‘No.’ Her teeth chattered, so she clamped her numb lips together, hoping she didn’t have to speak again.

‘I’ll get you a cab.’

Erin tried to shake her head. ‘No more rides,’ she managed, wanting so desperately to simply curl up and sleep off the sickness.

‘Ty,’ called a staff member. ‘Come on, mate.’

Tyler stretched his arm, shifting Erin’s head. ‘On my way, Luke.’

‘Please,’ mumbled Erin. ‘I don’t think I can move.’

Tyler took a swig of his drink, then stood, waggling a hand down. ‘I’ll help.’

Looking at him swaying was worse than feeling the waves. Erin groaned as he pulled her to a wobbly stand. Any minute now and the contents of her stomach were making an unwanted appearance, she was sure.

‘Just focus on me,’ whispered Tyler, close to her ear, delivering his stale boozy fumes to her nostrils, which did little to help matters.

How she was putting one foot in front of the other was beyond her, but she kept her focus on her shoes all the way onto the island that she wished she hadn’t bothered coming to. A damp wooden bench was her next stop, and even though it confused her why the drunk stranger had left her there, she was far too ill to care. Flopping to one side, she raised her legs, deciding a good night’s sleep was in order.

‘Nope. Not here,’ said Tyler.

He was back, and she was on her feet again. It was all too much. She went to tell him to stop moving her but was interrupted by projectile vomit. The man’s hands were holding back her hair as she dropped to her knees to throw up over the side of the bench.

That was it. She could take no more. He could get stuffed. She was sleeping on the ground, wherever she was, and let that be an end to it.

Tyler clamped her cheeks, tilting her weary head to one side. ‘See that house with the Christmas tree in front? It’s a B&B. There’s a room there for us tonight. You in?’

Hard, cold, vomit-infused ground or warm, comfy bed? It wasn’t a hard decision, just one that meant moving again.

Erin groaned as Tyler gently lifted her off her knees. ‘I feel so ill,’ she croaked, looking to him for sympathy and perhaps a cure.

A slight crooked smile hit his lips. ‘You’ll feel better in a minute. Trust me.’

For some bizarre reason, she felt she could trust him. For one, he looked ready to pass out just as much as her, and two, he had kind eyes. Dark-brown and warm.

Tyler hooked her up under his arm and led her over to the large coastal house, taking her into the warmth of its hallway.

‘Oh, look at the state of you,’ said the middle-aged woman behind the reception desk.

Erin squinted at the woman’s purple hair.

‘Hello, Queenie,’ said Tyler, leaning Erin against a lemon-panelled wall. ‘We need to sleep.’

Queenie’s sea-blue eyes widened. ‘You need something all right.’ She shook her head as she sighed. ‘Come on. Follow me.’ Grabbing a key from a box behind her desk, she waved them towards the stairs.

Erin was happy to sleep in the hallway, but once again, she was moved.

‘Thought you were staying on the mainland for the night,’ said Queenie, taking the stairs slowly.

‘Wedding was called off,’ said Tyler, tightening his grip on Erin as she flopped.

Queenie glanced over her shoulder. ‘No, why?’

Tyler grinned at Erin. ‘Groom didn’t kiss the bride. Kissed my girlfriend instead.’

A tiny piece of Erin’s heart went out to him. It would have been more but she was far too ill to bother with any emotion that wasn’t linked to feeling sorry for herself.

Queenie stopped at a door on the landing. ‘Well, that explains you. But what about missy here?’

Erin wanted to introduce herself but felt it was likely she would throw up instead.

‘Bad case of seasickness, I’m afraid,’ said Tyler.

Queenie nodded as she opened the door. ‘Yep, that’ll do it.’ She led them inside the small single-bed room. ‘Right, this is all I’ve got tonight. You and your mate will have to make do.’ She pointed at the floor. ‘Pull the spare out from under the bed, Ty. It’s all made up. I’ll get you some PJs.’

As she left, Erin wondered if Tyler used the B&B often. ‘Not your first rodeo here?’ she asked, grateful he placed her on the bed.

Tyler laughed as he pulled out the spare mattress. ‘Not for a while, but this place is known for helping local youngsters straight off the ferry after a night out on the mainland. Queenie’s been our angel for years.’ He cleared his throat as he dropped to the mattress on the floor. ‘Just for the record, it’s been a few years since I’ve been sloshed, but seeing how yesterday was my twenty-ninth birthday, and today I found out my girlfriend and bestie have been having an affair for over a year, I think I deserve a drink, or two.’ He raised his bottle, then guzzled some more.

Erin felt sick just thinking about alcohol. She had no idea what to say to the poor man. ‘I’m twenty-eight,’ came to mind.

Tyler raised his bottle again. ‘What a time to be alive.’

‘That’s enough of that,’ said Queenie, marching back in. She swiped away Tyler’s drink, placing some dark pyjama bottoms in his hand instead. ‘Get that on and straight to bed.’ She put a bottle of water by his side. ‘And get that down you.’

Erin attempted a smile as the woman handed her the other half of the pyjama set.

‘Put that on, love, and snuggle down. I’ll fetch you up some tea and toast to help settle your stomach.’ Queenie glanced over at Tyler as she headed for the door. ‘And I’ll bring up a couple of buckets in case either of you need to throw up in the night.’

Tyler chuckled as she left, tearing off his wedding outfit as though it offended him.

Erin faced the door, waiting for Tyler to get into bed. ‘Where’s your hat?’

‘On its way to France, probably.’

She gathered that was his way of saying he tossed it in the sea. A shiver caused her stomach to flip. Her head ached and her eyes were as sore as her throat.

‘Get in bed,’ said Tyler softly. ‘You need to sleep.’

Erin was way too exhausted and ill to slip into the nightshirt she was so kindly given. She slowly lowered her head to the soft pillow and closed her eyes, praying everything would stop spinning.

‘At least take your shoes off,’ said Tyler quietly. ‘Get comfy.’

Queenie was back. ‘Let me help you, love.’ She glared at Tyler as Erin tried to sit up. ‘Face the other way and close your eyes.’

Tyler did as he was told, and Erin allowed the older woman to put her into the nightwear.

‘I don’t know where my luggage is,’ said Erin, groaning.

‘Don’t you worry about that, love. I’ll find it and bring it straight up.’

‘I feel so ill, Queenie,’ she whispered as she was tucked beneath the covers and handed some tea to sip.

‘It does that to some, but you’ll be okay by morning. You just get some rest.’ Queenie offered a slice of lightly buttered toast, but Erin wasn’t sure she should. ‘Just a nibble, love. Line your stomach.’

Erin was surprised she managed to eat half a slice. The tea was soothing, and so was Queenie’s presence. She wished she had grown up with such a woman. It would have been nice to have someone motherly around. Her own mother had been quite distant and cold. So much so, she wasn’t exactly missed after her death.

‘This is Erin,’ said Tyler, not bothering to sit up. ‘I found her on the ferry, so best leave the door open tonight, Queenie.’

Queenie smiled at Erin. ‘That’s what we do here when there aren’t enough rooms and folk don’t know each other too well. But I’ll tell you something, love, you’re as safe as houses here, and that young lad over there, as drunk as he is, wouldn’t harm a fly.’ She patted Erin’s hand. ‘You’re perfectly safe with us. I know every single person in my B&B tonight. You drink your tea and get some sleep.’

Erin thanked her, then smiled to herself as the woman wedged the bedroom door open.

‘Night, Erin,’ whispered Tyler, turning to face the wall. ‘Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.’

Unable to drink any more of the hot beverage, Erin snuggled to her side, glad she didn’t have to move again. She had water by her bed, a bucket on the floor, and the comfort of knowing she seemed to be somewhere safe, even with a drunk stranger sleeping on the floor by her bed.