“It’s not?”
“No.” He shook his head, his eyes searching mine. “You are my wife.”
“But you won’t even wear your ring,” I blurted, then a rush of emotion hit again. Confusion. Joy.
Too much. So I buried my face in Jasper’s shirt and let him hold me while I cried. Hard.
Was this happening? When the tears slowed, when the sobs turned to hiccups, I drew in a long inhale of his cologne and unburied my face from his chest. “Are you sure?”
“That you’re my wife?” His lips pressed against my hair. “I’m sure.”
The relief nearly sent me to my knees. But I clung to his shirt, fisting it in my hands like I was wrapping my fingers around his heart. If he ever tried to leave, I’d drag his ass back to Quincy.
Back to me.
“It’s not the end,” I repeated.
“It’s not the end.”
A laugh bubbled free. I unpeeled myself from his chest, searching those dark eyes.
They had the crinkles at the sides.
He kissed me, dragging his tongue across my bottom lip, slow and savoring. It only lasted a moment before he slanted his mouth over mine and delved, claiming every corner of my mouth.
I let that kiss sink into my weary soul, to calm some of the storm.
His shirt was soaked and wrinkled when I finally let it go.
“Sorry.”
Jasper cupped my jaw, wiping my damp cheeks with his thumbs. “You good with this?”
I nodded. Very good.
“In the car, when we were fighting, you said something.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Not today. Not after this.
“This, we have to talk about. Now.” He gave me a sad smile. “You said that I love Samantha.”
“Oh.” That was what he wanted to talk about? Really? Today?
I’d said a lot on Monday that I really didn’t want to relive. It had all been true, brutal honesty. But I still didn’t want to rehash it. There was no fight left in my bones.
“I don’t love Samantha.” He framed my face again, making sure my eyes were locked on his. “I don’t know if I ever really loved her. Not the way it should be.”
My breath hitched.
Did that mean . . .
Before I could even finish that thought, the lobby door opened and Mateo walked inside.
“Blaze is sitting on the hood of his car parked out front.”
Ugh. Major mood killer.
“Okay.” I sighed. “Hopefully he’ll give up and leave.”
“I don’t like that kid,” Jasper said, letting go of my face to haul me against his chest again. “No complaining when I’m your shadow for the next few days.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” My arms were trapped so I couldn’t give him my usual mock salute.
His chest shook with a quiet laugh.
I smiled, sagging against him. Then, because I was happy, I started crying again. “Sorry. I’m just . . . overwhelmed.”
“I got you,” he murmured, holding me tighter. “What do you need?”
You. “A nap.”
Jasper let me go, snagging my hand. Then he led me to a couch, sitting against one armrest before smacking his thigh. “Come on.”
“I need to work.”
“Take five,” Mateo said. “I’ve got the desk.”
“Are you sure?”
He winked, then left Jasper and me alone.
I stared down at Jasper, at that lap I loved to curl into so much. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? So I sat down, snuggling into his chest, letting the warmth from his body wrap around me like a blanket.
“Five minutes.”
He kissed my forehead. “Five minutes.”
I was asleep in seconds.
He held me for an hour instead, knowing I needed more than minutes. When I woke, Mateo was still at the desk.
And Blaze was nowhere to be found.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JASPER
Eloise popped the lid on her to-go cup of coffee and swept her purse from the counter. Then, like she did most mornings, she turned in a full circle. Two circles, actually. One spin to the right. One spin to the left.
“I’m forgetting something,” she said.
“Whatever it is, I’ll bring it to you later.”
“Okay.” She gave me a soft smile, her gaze trailing down my naked chest.
While she’d taken a shower and dressed for the day, I’d climbed out of bed and made coffee, only bothering to pull on a pair of sweats.
Her gaze lingered on my abs for a moment before her eyes shifted to my hands splayed on the island, those blues locking on my left. Her smile dimmed.
She was searching for the ring, wasn’t she?
Eloise had been paying my ring finger more attention this past week, ever since that day in the hotel lobby a week ago when she’d fired Blaze. The day I’d told her the divorce papers had landed in the trash. When she’d mentioned the ring in the heat of the moment.
Had she been searching for it all this time? I hadn’t noticed her staring at my hand, but maybe she’d hidden it better before Italy. Or maybe I’d just been oblivious.
But it was out there now, plaguing us both.
“You’re going to the gym?” she asked, her gaze dropping to her coffee cup. When she looked up again, her smile was back in its beautiful glory.
“Yeah. Foster and I are meeting in half an hour.”
“See you after?”
I nodded. “Want me to bring you lunch?”
“Yes, please.” She rounded the corner, rising up on her toes for a kiss.
I bent, sweeping her into my arms and sealing my mouth over hers. Our tongues tangled in a lazy, slow dance, kissing until she had a pretty flush to her cheeks and my cock stretched my sweats.
Another morning, I’d peel away those black slacks and fuck her while she was bent over the counter. But she’d had a hectic week, and I knew she wanted to get to work. So I eased away, holding her for just another minute to bury my face in her hair and draw in my favorite scent.
She clung to me with her arms banded around my ribs and locked behind my back. “I’d better go.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, loosening my hold. With a kiss on her forehead, I followed her outside, standing on the porch to watch as she climbed in her car and waved before driving down the lane.
The morning air was warm and the forecast was calling for another hot July day. The scent of pinesap filled my nose. The river rushed in the distance and birds chirped as they swept through the trees. Sunbeams streamed through branches, casting everything in a yellow morning glow.
It should have snared my focus. This little corner of Montana, my little corner, had become a source of peace. Instead, I looked to my hand and sighed.
If Eloise had refused to wear the ring I’d bought her, it would have bothered me. Especially now, after all we’d gone through together.
The ring she’d given me was simple. Classic. A titanium band with polished edges and a matte center.
What the fuck were the odds that she’d pick the exact style ring that Sam had given me years ago?