Jasper cradled my body, holding me against his chest as he walked.
I stiffened, opening my eyes because I wasn’t ready to go back to the coffee shop. To face my sisters.
But Jasper walked toward the street, carrying me to his Yukon.
With a pop, the passenger door opened and he set me on the black leather seat. He closed me inside, then rounded the hood, climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine. With a quick glance in his mirrors, he reversed away from the curb and headed down Main.
He hit a button on the console. My seat warmers. Then he turned up the temperature, glancing over with his eyebrows furrowed.
How did he know I was cold?
Oh, right. I was shaking. Was it the cold? Or was it sheer panic?
I didn’t ask where we were going. I didn’t care. I just closed my eyes, waiting until the warmth seeped into my skin and the trembling in my fingers stopped.
The SUV slowed before Jasper took a corner. Then the whirl of the tires changed to a crunch as we turned off the pavement and onto a gravel road. I cracked my eyes as a street sign flew by.
Alderson Road. He was taking me to the A-frame.
Strange, how I’d only been there once, but the idea of that cabin soothed some of my worries. And this conversation, no matter the outcome, would be best had in private.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “For freaking out.”
“My fault.” Jasper shifted, his wrist draped over the wheel. “Better?”
I nodded. “Getting there.”
The drive down the gravel road settled more of my nerves. The rumble of the wheels, the bounce and jostle you didn’t have on asphalt. It reminded me of the ranch, of the countless hours I’d spent riding shotgun with Dad as he’d checked pasture fences or counted cattle.
My queasy stomach and clammy palms were gone by the time we reached the A-frame. My knees wobbled, just slightly, as I hopped out of the Yukon and followed Jasper inside, where I was greeted by the scent of a wood fire and Jasper’s cologne.
“What happened to your dining room table?” I asked. Instead of the round oak table that had been here the last time I’d visited, there was a black folding card table with four matching chairs.
“I bought this place.” He tossed his keys on the small kitchen island. “I called the owners a few weeks ago to ask if I could extend my rental. They were wanting to sell the place. So I bought it. Most of the furnishings too. But they wanted the table.”
“You bought this?” Did that mean he was staying in Quincy? Even after the annulment?
My head started to spin again, so I walked to the card table, sinking into one of the folding chairs.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper said. “I’m sorry I told them.”
“Who knows?”
“Just Foster and Talia. It happened a minute before you came in.”
I swallowed hard. “And Lyla?”
He blew out a long breath, leaning against the island. “I’m guessing Talia will tell her.”
“But you didn’t?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know she felt that way.”
My heart began to race. “And do you? Feel that way about her?”
“No.”
Relief crashed through my bones, my muscles sagging. Maybe it was silly, feeling this claim on Jasper. Okay, it was definitely silly. We were former lovers and soon-to-be former spouses. But still, the idea of him with Lyla made me want to scream.
“I’ll have to tell Lyla,” I said. “If Talia didn’t already.”
My phone vibrated in my coat pocket again. I didn’t want to check to see who was calling this time. I was too scared to see Mom or Dad on the screen.
“I’m mad at you,” I murmured.
“I’m mad at you too. You said you’d tell them in a couple weeks. You didn’t.”
I frowned. “I’m aware.”
“Don’t you think it will be better this way? If people find out from us instead of gossip?”
“Or not at all,” I murmured.
Jasper studied my face, his eyes narrowing. “You weren’t going to tell them, were you?”
The blame, the scorn, in his voice made me wince. “No one needed to know.”
His jaw clenched. “That’s why you want the annulment.”
“Do you really want everyone to know?”
Jasper didn’t answer. He just cast his gaze toward the island and the stack of mail on its surface.
It turned quiet. Too quiet. He might be okay with these long stretches of silence but they made me squirm. The vinyl beneath my thighs squeaked.
He had a right to be angry. So did I.
But the damage had been done. By both parties.
Hiding this marriage was no longer an option.
“How did you tell them?” I asked Jasper. “Foster and Talia? How did you tell them?” Maybe I could steal his explanation because at the moment, my own eluded me.
He sighed. “Told them I fucked up.”
Brutal. But effective. And true. “Then what?”
“Said I married your sister. Talia assumed it was Lyla. Then you walked in the door.”
To freak out and announce our marriage.
“Ugh.” I dropped my elbows to the table, letting my head fall into my hands. “What a cluster.”
My phone vibrated again. The curiosity was too much, so I slipped it out. Talia. She’d called three times. Lyla, only once.
“How do we fix this?” The question was for myself, but Jasper answered.
“What if we called off the lawyers?”
“Huh? What do you mean? We have to get the annulment. Or . . . a divorce. We need the lawyers.”
Jasper stared at that stack of mail on the island, his expression focused on whatever was on the top. “What if we stay married?”
I rubbed my ears. They didn’t seem to be working right today. “Say that again.”
He stood straighter, his gaze whipping to me. “What if we stayed married?”
“You want to stay married. How does that fix this?”
“Hear me out. What if this marriage wasn’t some drunken mistake?”
“Except it was a drunken mistake.” Had he forgotten that we’d both been riding the alcohol express as we’d walked into the Clover Chapel and messed up our lives?
“We know that,” he said. “No one else does.”
“I don’t understand.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, to the headache that had sent me to Lyla’s coffee shop in the first place. It had faded momentarily, during my panic attack. But it was brewing again, raging behind my skull.
“Instead of hiding this, what if we owned it? Tell everyone we got married. Admit it was rushed and reckless. But tell them there’s something here and we’re going to see if it works.”
My hands fell along with my jaw. “Stay married. To me? But I just announced to the coffee shop that we’re getting an annulment.”
Jasper lifted a shoulder. “We tell them it’s not a for-sure thing. Which it isn’t. And that we’re just exploring our options.”
Stay married. That was impossible. Wasn’t it?
Jasper’s gaze flicked to the stack of mail again. It was subtle. But something on that stack kept drawing his attention.
“What are you not telling me?” I asked.