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“Must be for a convention or something,” she murmured to herself. The Head of Horticulture, James Jewel, sometimes hired out full-grown potted trees and pots of flowers in bloom to decorate stages and pavilions for events, and the staff always went to set them up and make sure the plants were cared for properly.
Beverley parked in her usual place, clicked her door lock, grabbed her tote bag, and walked over to the gate, looking hard at the men to identify them in the faint light. Strangely neither of them were colleagues. Who are they? Then she remembered Inigo talking about rare plants being stolen. Silently, she dropped her tote under a bush and walked so that the truck was between her and the two men. She sharpened her ears to hear any conversation they might be having, but there were just a few quiet grunts. Both men reappeared, carrying a huge pot between them. Several times they had to put it down and stretch their backs before picking it up again.
That’s the Alcantarea imperialis. It takes twenty years for that to flower then it dies. James will go ballistic if they steal that. It’s due to bloom in the next few months!
Beverley stepped into their line of sight and asked, “What the hell are you doing with the Alcantarea imperialis? And who are you anyway?”
“Fuck!” swore one.
“Time to get outta here,” added the other, dropping his side of the pot and racing for the truck cab.
Beverley was closer to the driver’s seat than he was, and she jumped into the cab, grabbing for the keys. She slid them out of the ignition, but then both men were wrestling with her, grabbing the keys and pushing her out of the truck.
The driver gunned the engine and his tires spun. Beverley grabbed hold of the open window and chinned herself up the side of the cab, trying to climb back in.
The driver attempted to steer with one hand and push her out the window with the other. His tires were still spinning and his companion was screaming at them both. The driver then remembered to take off the parking brake and with a lurch, the vehicle began to move. But by this time Beverley had pulled herself far enough through the window to grip the steering wheel with both hands and deliberately turned it in a circle so the truck couldn’t leave.
Hanging upside down, gripping the steering wheel with all her strength, blood rushing to her head and boots scrabbling for purchase on the outside of the truck door, Bev felt as though time stood still. She wasn’t sure whether she had been hanging on for seconds or much longer. But she was very pleased to hear sirens getting louder and louder. Her head was swimming, and the driver had taken both hands off the wheel to punch her face, but grim determination kept her holding on.
The vehicle stopped, the passenger door opened, and the passenger was pulled out. Beverley turned her head just enough to see Inigo deliver a rousing punch to the man’s face and drop him on the ground as flashing lights surrounded them and police yelled through megaphones. Gratefully, she let go of the wheel and allowed her body to slide to the ground.
The next half hour was a total blur for Beverley. Paramedics put ice on her face and massaged her shoulders. Police took statements, asking the same questions over and over. All she wanted to know was how Inigo had arrived at the crucial moment.
Finally, she was allowed to leave the ambulance and was surprised to see Hyacinthe standing with Inigo and James Jewel. James rushed over to shake her hand.
“Beverley, we’re so proud of you. The police have been tracking these people for months and always seemed to arrive everywhere too late. And our Alcantarea imperialis! They had our Alcantarea imperialis!
Beverley’s head ached, her face hurt, her shoulders were sore, but one thing she was sure of. The moment she’d seen Inigo and Hyacinthe standing there, she’d known why she couldn’t sleep and what really mattered to her. She was sticking with Hyacinthe and Inigo. She loved them. There was nothing like a near-death experience to make a person realize what was most important in life!
****
James had given the three of them the day off work. Beverley wasn’t quite sure why, but she wasn’t going to say no either. He’d also assured her she’d be getting a bonus for her morning’s adventure and a personal thank you from the Managing Director. It appeared that today, at least, she was the center of the universe. But all she wanted was Hyacinthe and Inigo. They meant far more to her than anything else.
An hour later, they were lying on Hyacinthe’s bed, Cinthe and Inigo teasing her about the smell of the liniment on her shoulders and making gentle, sympathetic jokes about the huge, purple bruise on her forehead.
“How did you get there, Inigo?” she asked.
“I decided to go in early and dig the west garden bed as a gift for you. Instead, I got to punch the bad guy in the nose.”
“And I wanted to fly through the garden and look at the plants. I had to hide behind a bush to grow again and saw your tote bag there. So I used your cell phone to call the police,” added Hyacinthe.
“That means we are attuned to each other. We do all think along the same lines,” said Beverley as she realized how true her thoughts were.
“Absolutely. And right now I’m thinking a little oral sex shouldn’t put too much pressure on your shoulders. So how about Hyacinthe sucks you and I’ll suck her?” suggested Inigo.
“Sounds like a plan,” replied Beverley, sliding down the bed.
“Now relax, Bev, and leave everything to me,” said Cinthe.
Bev closed her eyes as Hyacinthe trailed her small hands across Bev’s body. With her eyes shut, she couldn’t tell if anyone was paying attention to her flesh as Cinthe lifted her shirt up and gently brushed her palms across Bev’s breasts, then tweaked a nipple.
Bev gulped. Cinthe always seemed to know exactly how much pressure to exert to bring the greatest pleasure. Bev felt the bedding being pushed away and heard the thump as it landed on the floor, and then the bed moved as Inigo shuffled his position. It was amazing that she could work out so much of what was happening even with her eyes shut.
Despite the pain killers, her head was still aching fiercely, and she hated to think what her face would look like by tomorrow once the bruising came out. But right now she could relax knowing she could trust Inigo completely. Even though he was touching Hyacinthe, not her, his body was a warm reassuring presence on the bed, and Bev could sense Hyacinthe’s pleasure at his hands and mouth on her, as well as Cinthe’s pleasure as she touched Bev.
Bev opened her eyes again and watched as Cinthe slid down her body, licking a wet slippery trail to her cunt and then sucked her clit. With her head on the pillow, she watched Inigo as he lifted one of Cinthe’s legs up over his shoulder so his mouth could reach Cinthe’s pussy. Bev shivered, imagining Hyacinthe’s delight at his touch.
Bev closed her eyes again and smiled, reveling in the delicate teasing strokes of the woman she loved, and the reassuring presence of a man she respected. They were a team. It was as a team that they’d stopped the plant thieves. She might have been the one to grab the steering wheel of the truck, but it had been Cinthe who’d called the police, and Inigo who’d punched the other villain. They’d all separately and without talking about it, been at the same place at the same time.
