Jasper Vale (The Edens #4)

My feet ached. My bones were weary. It was getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open.

“This is a dream,” I murmured, yawning for the hundredth time. I leaned on Jasper, my arms around his waist, feeling like I could sleep standing up.

I took one last look at the tower, then closed my eyes, committing it to memory.

Committing this place and Jasper, tucking the image away in the deepest corners of my mind, to the place where I vowed never to forget.

If there was ever a place to share before our final farewell, it was here.

“Where to next?” he asked.

“Quincy, Montana.”

It was time to go home.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO





JASPER





“Can I get you anything, sir?” the flight attendant asked.

“No.” I shook my head, keeping my voice low.

She looked to Eloise, curled into a ball and asleep on my lap, and smiled. Then she went to the row behind ours, moving on to the next passenger in the first-class cabin.

I relaxed my head against the seat. We were on the final leg of the trip home, and sleep had been sporadic since we’d left Italy.

I’d managed to catch a few hours at the hotel in Paris, but because we’d changed our flight to depart from France rather than Italy, we’d had to be at the airport early this morning. Eloise had slept some on the flight across the Atlantic, but I’d never been great about sleep on airplanes.

Just a few more hours, then we’d be home. Another hour of flying, the two-hour drive from Missoula to Quincy, then I’d crash in my own damn bed.

We could both use a solid night’s sleep.

Eloise had fallen asleep not long after we’d taken off on this final flight, but she’d kept jolting herself awake, until finally, she’d climbed over the console between us and curled up in my lap. She’d been dead to the world ever since.

I yawned. Exhaustion should have won out—it had been a damn long few days—but I couldn’t seem to shut off my mind. I couldn’t stop replaying what Ashley had told me at the wedding during that short dance.

It had been a load of bullshit about how Samantha would always love me. How it wasn’t too late for us.

I almost felt bad for Sam’s new husband.

Almost.

Clearly, Sam hadn’t married for love.

Did she even know what love was? Did I? What Sam and I’d shared had seemed like love. A bond. Attention. When stacked side by side with my parents, what Sam had given me, especially in the beginning, had resembled love. Once, long ago, I’d been so damn sure that what I’d felt for Samantha was love.

Now . . .

I wasn’t sure. I’d learned more about love from the woman drooling on my shoulder in months than I had from years with Samantha.

With the arm not trapped beneath Eloise, I plucked my phone from the cup. We’d loaded Wi-Fi onto both our phones in case we wanted to watch a movie, but nothing had held my interest, so I checked to see if there were any missed texts or emails.

No surprise, there was nothing from my parents. No text asking if we were still meeting for brunch. They’d probably arrived at the restaurant and completely forgotten they’d even invited Eloise and me to tag along.

Or maybe they’d been relieved when we hadn’t shown up.

It stung. Would it always? Would there ever come a time when I could see them and not hope that they’d care? Not even meeting my wife could spark their interest. They’d been happier talking to their friends last night than their son and new daughter-in-law.

It was one thing for them to dismiss me. But Eloise?

She looked so young today, her face without makeup and her hair pulled up. She was in a pair of gray sweats and a matching sweatshirt with sleeves that fell to her fingertips.

Maybe this anger toward my parents had nothing to do with me. Maybe it was for Eloise.

She deserved better than they’d offered.

We both did.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then went back to my phone, scrolling to the email that I’d been ignoring since Friday.

It was from the fighter I’d met with in Vegas. He needed an answer about the job offer.

So with one hand, I typed out my reply.

Eloise stirred the moment I hit send, like she’d felt the weight of that decision. “Hi.” Her eyelids were too heavy to open. So she let them fall closed and snuggled deeper, curling her hands beneath her chin. “How much longer?”

“Not long.”

She sighed and, this time, opened her eyes for good, sitting up straight and climbing off my lap.

I shook out the arm that had been behind her. It had fallen asleep five minutes after she had.

On a yawn, Eloise snagged her phone from the backpack at her feet. Whatever she read on the screen made her gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh my God.” She answered by handing it over.

There was a text open from Taylor. I hadn’t met her but Eloise had talked about the girl enough I knew she worked at the hotel desk.

I’m so sorry to bother you on vacation but Blaze came in to the hotel today even though he wasn’t scheduled to work. He would hardly leave the front desk and every time I told him I was working and couldn’t talk, he’d just ignore me.

“Who is Blaze?” I asked.

“My mom’s college roommate moved to Quincy. Her name is Lydia. Blaze is her seventeen-year-old son. Mom asked if I’d give him a job. I guess he was struggling and Lydia thought a job might do him some good.”

So Anne had asked for a favor. “That’s the kid you were training last weekend?”

Eloise nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She’d gone to work all weekend to train a new housekeeper, but I hadn’t asked for details. When she’d come home, she’d been exhausted. I’d assumed it was because she’d been working so hard to get ready for the trip.

Taylor’s text was broken into two so I kept on scrolling, reading the second message.

While he was talking, a bird hit one of the front windows. He went out to get it and even though it wasn’t dead he brought it inside anyway. When it tried to fly away, he broke its neck. I started crying and called my mom. She said that if he keeps working at the hotel, then I’ll have to find a different job. Blaze finally left when Mateo came in but I wanted you to know. I’m sorry.

“What the hell?” Blaze had killed a bird? In front of a teenage girl? “That’s fucked up.”

“Yep.” Eloise took the phone, typing out a reply to Taylor. She hit send, then tucked it in her backpack. “He’s fired. I hate firing people but I don’t think I’ll mind this time.”

“I don’t want you doing it alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll take care of it.”

“Look at me,” I ordered, waiting until I had those blues. “Not alone, Eloise. Call me. Call your dad. Call one of your brothers. But you don’t talk to this kid alone. Please.”

She sighed. “I’ll have to change the schedule. I don’t want Taylor at the front desk alone anymore.”

“I don’t want you there alone either.”

“Well, that’s not an option,” she muttered. “I never should have hired him. What a mess.”