“Where did you learn to dance?” I asked.
“High school. One year of ballroom dancing was required to graduate.”
I’d peppered him with questions all night. If my time with him was running out, I wanted to know everything and anything.
Jasper had indulged me, sharing without hesitation. Maybe the champagne had gone to his head too.
“Did you like your high school?”
He shook his head. “Not especially.”
“I loved mine,” I said. “For the most part. It’s not like there wasn’t the normal girl drama and whatever, but I always liked that it was the school where my brothers and sisters had gone. And it was the school where my parents went too.”
“A legacy.”
“Yeah.” That seemed like too fancy a word for Quincy High. “I like dancing with you.”
He turned his cheek, pressing his lips to my temple, then kept moving us around the floor.
“Do you like Montana?”
“This winter was fucking cold. But otherwise, yeah.”
“Too many years in the desert?” I teased.
“Probably.”
“You just need warmer clothes.” If he’d stay, I’d find him the best winter wardrobe around. “Favorite part about Quincy? And you can’t say Foster because I already know he’s your favorite. And you can’t say sex with me every night either because obviously that’s amazing. You have to pick a favorite thing or a place or something like that.”
Jasper opened his mouth. “The—”
“And you can’t say the A-frame.”
He stopped dancing. “Do you want to just tell me what my favorite is then?”
“The Eloise Inn?”
Jasper chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s your favorite.”
“I’ll share it. You have to admit it’s pretty fantastic.”
“It’s pretty fantastic.”
“See? I knew it was your favorite.”
He flashed me those straight, white teeth as his eyes crinkled at the sides.
“You’re so handsome when you smile.” I traced my finger across his bottom lip. “I like it when you smile.”
“I like it when you smile too.” He resumed our dance, matching our steps to the beat of the band’s slow melody. “Next question?”
“How did you know I was going to ask another question?”
“Your name is Eloise Eden.”
I giggled. “How many times have you been to Italy?”
“Three.”
“Are you having fun on this trip?”
“Yes.”
Score. “Me too. I didn’t expect to have fun, especially tonight.”
“Neither did I, angel,” he murmured.
Take that, Samantha.
It had been too easy to pretend tonight, to fall into this illusion of a happily married couple. And it felt so real that my hopes were soaring beyond the limits of my control. Tomorrow, when reality came crashing back, it was going to be as miserable as the champagne hangover I’d undoubtedly have.
But . . . it wasn’t tomorrow yet.
“How many—”
A woman appeared at our side, cutting my question short.
Her blond hair was swept into a chignon. On her wrist was a delicate rose corsage. The resemblance to Samantha was uncanny. This had to be her mother.
“Ashley.” Jasper stopped our dance, shifting me until I was tucked against his side, his body slightly in front of mine. Like a shield.
“Hello, Jasper.” Ashley smiled, offering her cheek.
He kissed it but his arm banded around my hip stayed firm. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She kept her entire focus on him, her gaze not even flicking my direction. Apparently I wasn’t worth acknowledging.
Or introducing.
Jasper didn’t give me a nod either.
Gee thanks.
“Charming wedding,” he said. “Though I expected nothing less.”
“Since I didn’t get to partake in yours, I inserted myself fully into this one. Much to Samantha’s dismay.”
Jasper’s smile was tight. Cold. “We appreciate the invitation.”
“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d come.” Ashley’s attention shifted to me. The sneer on her face, the open disdain, was something this woman had clearly practiced for decades.
And here I was thinking we’d escaped the drama. Damn.
I smiled wider, leaning into Jasper and putting my hand on his stomach. Don’t say something rude. Don’t say something rude. By some miracle, I managed to keep my mouth shut.
This was the welcome I’d expected from his parents, the confrontation I’d prepared for. The nasty glares. The hostility. We’d been so close to avoiding it tonight.
“Jasper.” A man clapped him on the shoulder, holding out his hand. “Good to see you. I meant to come say hello earlier but it’s been a busy night.”
“John.” Jasper dipped his chin. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” John didn’t ignore me and his stare was more cautious than callous.
“This is my wife, Eloise.” Jasper loosened his grip so I could shake John’s hand.
“Pleasure,” I lied.
“Mine as well.” John kept ahold of my hand. “I haven’t gotten to dance all evening. May I cut in?”
Oh, no. I opened my mouth to protest, but John was already crowding Jasper out of the way, tugging me into his arms.
Jasper’s jaw flexed but he didn’t steal me away. Instead, when Ashley moved in to steal my place, arms raised for him to take the lead, he danced with her.
Well, shit.
This was awkward.
“Beautiful evening,” I said. How much longer was this song?
“It is,” John said. “Weddings are always a great excuse to bring people together. It’s been too long since we’ve seen Jasper.”
“He’s just so busy. It’s hard for him to get away.”
John’s eyes, the same muddy color as his daughter’s, narrowed. “From Montana.”
“Yes. That’s where we live.”
“And you work at a motel?”
Did I want to know how he knew about me? Nope. “I manage my family’s hotel.”
“Hospitality is a necessary industry.” Spoken like a true douchebag who snubbed those he considered beneath his station.
“Jasper mentioned you’re in politics, is that right?”
He gave me a curt nod, almost like he was offended that I’d switched the topic of conversation while he was trying to run me down.
A few feet away, whatever Ashley was saying to Jasper couldn’t have been good, given that angry muscle in his jaw was flexing.
“It’s not easy to see Jasper with another woman.”
My gaze whipped to John’s, but I bit my tongue, holding back a snarky retort. Or an education about his cheating daughter.
“They have an unbreakable bond,” he said.
“Yet it broke.” About the time she’d taken another man’s cock. I smiled sweetly. “So I’ll have to disagree with your opinion.”
“It’s a fact, my dear. One known by every person in this room.”
“Even your new son-in-law? Yikes. Poor guy. He must feel very welcome in your home.”
John’s nostrils flared. “He, unlike you, isn’t blind to reality.”