Jasper Vale (The Edens)

Blaze, you are killing me. I spun in a slow circle, taking in the hotel room he’d just cleaned.

Or attempted to clean? At what point did people stop giving an A for effort?

The bed was rumpled, the pillows askew against the headboard. The towels in the bathroom weren’t folded into neat piles, but rather tossed together haphazardly. The trash can beside the television hadn’t been emptied and he’d forgotten to vacuum.

“Okay, Blaze.” I turned, ready to rattle off the list of everything he needed to fix. Except Blaze wasn’t standing beside the cleaning cart where he’d been a minute ago. “Blaze?”

Nothing.

I groaned, walking to the door and checking the hallway. Empty.

“Seriously?” I muttered. If I wasn’t correcting this kid, I was chasing him around the damn hotel.

At least this time I had a hunch where he was hiding.

I tucked the cleaning cart closer to the wall so it would be out of the way for people walking by, then headed for the stairwell, jogging from the second floor to the first. As expected, Blaze was at the reception counter, talking to Taylor.

From the strained expression on her pretty face, she was sick of Blaze too.

“Blaze,” I snapped, drawing his attention.

Behind his thick, black-framed glasses, he rolled his eyes. This kid didn’t even try to hide his annoyance. I needed both hands to count the number of eye rolls and muttered insults I’d earned since Friday.

“Go upstairs and fix that room,” I said. “Make the bed nice. Fold the towels in a stack. Empty the garbage can. And vacuum.”

“I did vacuum,” he argued.

“Then vacuum again.” Maybe if I sent him up there to vacuum three times, he’d manage to get the whole floor.

“Fine,” he grumbled, his footsteps heavy as he passed by. Blaze walked with his eyes on the floor, shoulders rounded in. His black hair, severely parted down the middle, flopped into his face, probably hiding another eye roll.

We didn’t have a dress code for the housekeepers. It was more important to me that they were comfortable as they cleaned than to have them in a uniform. Most cleaned in jeans, tees and tennis shoes. Not once had I needed to ask an employee to wear something different. Not once, in all my years as manager.

When Blaze had come in on Friday to complete his new-hire paperwork, he’d arrived in a pair of jeans that he’d decorated with black marker. He’d written line after line of Fuck You Mom on those jeans, down his thighs all the way to his ankles.

Poor Lydia. I hoped she didn’t do his laundry.

He’d paired those pants with a red hoodie that had a middle finger drawn onto the front.

I’d told him that he was required to wear a plain, gray or white shirt with clean jeans. No profanity.

Clearly, he wasn’t happy that his mother had arranged for him to have this job. Maybe he was doing a shitty job because he hoped I’d fire him.

Oh, it was tempting.

But I’d promised myself I’d give him an honest two weekends.

He was working Saturdays and Sundays to start. Which meant I was working Saturdays and Sundays.

Instead of spending my weekend at the cabin alone, I’d been here, training Blaze. Yesterday, we’d worked together as I’d shown him how to clean a room and what was expected. Today, I’d let him do the work, but for every room he finished, I did an inspection.

So far, not a single room had been done correctly. Though they were getting better. Slightly. Maybe he’d do a decent job if that meant impressing Taylor.

Except I wouldn’t put that on her.

Taylor would be a senior at Quincy High in the fall. She was as reliable as she was friendly. With her blond hair and sparkling brown eyes, she was a ray of sunshine. She’d worked at the hotel since last summer. During the school year, she only worked weekends because she played volleyball and basketball. But during the summer, she was always willing to do whatever was necessary, from manning the desk to housekeeping, anything to add to her college savings.

“Sorry, Eloise,” she said once the stairwell door slammed closed behind Blaze. “I told him I was working and couldn’t talk but he just wouldn’t leave.”

“I know.” I sighed. “It’s not you.”

“He’s, um . . . different.”

If different meant creepy and rude. “Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“He hasn’t really done anything. He just talks about his video games a lot. They sound violent and that’s not really my thing.”

“If he does make you uncomfortable, text me immediately.”

She nodded. “I will.”

“Okay. I’ll go monitor his progress. Again.” With heavy shoulders, I turned and marched upstairs.

It took Blaze the three times I’d expected for the vacuuming to be sufficient. His shift was the longest I’d endured in years, and by the time the rooms were finished, I wanted to scream.

This wasn’t going to work, was it?

Not only was his work shoddy, his attitude was grating on my nerves. If he wasn’t grumbling under his breath or rolling his eyes, he was making bold, insulting statements about Quincy.

He fucking hated this shithole of a town.

Blaze’s words, not mine.

Part of me felt bad for the kid. New town. New house. His mom had shoved a job down his throat. That sympathy was the only reason I hadn’t fired him yet.

“That’s all for today,” I told Blaze, walking with him to the staff room.

While he went to the locker I’d assigned him, I filled a coffee mug. It was bitter after sitting all day, but I sipped it anyway, needing the caffeine. Sleep this week had been lacking, mostly because I’d spent every night since Wednesday at Lyla’s place.

It was too quiet at the A-frame. The bed looked too lonely without Jasper. So I’d packed a bag and raided the fridge, extending my sleepover at my sister’s house.

Lyla’s guest room was cute and the bed was comfortable, but I just hadn’t been able to sleep. I woke up cold and no matter how many blankets I put on the bed, it wasn’t the same as snuggling against Jasper.

I yawned as Blaze slammed his locker door closed. “See you next Saturday.”

“I guess,” he muttered, walking to the time clock to punch his card with a thunk.

“Have a good—”

Blaze walked out of the room in the middle of my sentence.

“Week.” It was my turn for an eye roll. Then I stood in the quiet, sipping my coffee, staring at the time clock.

It was old fashioned. Charming. At least, charming up until the first and fifteenth of every month when I had to tally each employee’s hours manually before sending the details to our accountant. Replacing it was on my list of future updates. Someday.

When my cup was empty, I washed it in the sink and put it away, then headed to the front desk. “I’m heading out, Taylor.”

She only had about an hour left before she’d take off too. “Bye, Eloise. Have a good evening.”

I waved, using my hand to cover another yawn, then headed for the alley.

Knox’s truck was parked beside my Subaru. Part of me craved a bowl of his homemade mac ’n’ cheese and a big glass of wine, but instead of heading to Knuckles to visit my brother, I aimed my car toward home.

The sky was covered in gray clouds, and the scent of rain marked the air, so I rolled my windows down, breathing in the crisp smell as I drove.

My overnight bag and a pile of empty food containers were in the passenger seat. As much as I didn’t want to be alone in the A-frame, I’d told Lyla not to expect me tonight. I needed to do laundry and clean. And maybe tonight, I’d work up the courage to actually call Jasper to find out about his interview. Or not.

Phone calls, or communication in general, wasn’t really our forte. If our in-person conversations were one-sided, I couldn’t imagine what a phone call would be like.

To his credit, he’d done as I’d asked, texting me along the way for his trip. But the last text I’d gotten had been Thursday when he’d made it to Vegas.

Checking my phone for missed notifications had become as regular as yawning.

My eyelids drooped by the time I reached Alderson Road. Cleaning and laundry might have to wait another day. A hot shower and an early bedtime were calling.

But my exhaustion vanished the moment I turned onto the lane for the A-frame.

Jasper’s Yukon was outside the house.

My heart leapt.

He was home? When had he gotten back? Why hadn’t he texted me?

I parked and scrambled to gather my stuff. The sudden need to see him made my fingers fumble with a couple of the lids. But after some juggling, I had them all tucked close and managed to open the car’s door, kicking it closed while I hurried inside.

“Jasper?” I called when I didn’t see him anywhere. The containers were all dropped in the sink with a chorus of clattering. My backpack landed on the island with a thud. “Jas?”

The house was quiet.

So I moved through the living room, making my way toward the deck. I found him, sitting on the boards, his legs stretched in front of him as he bent to touch his toes. His hair was wet, like he’d just showered.

“Hi.” My eyes swept over his body, from his wet hair to his clean T-shirt to the shorts and his tennis shoes. Something in my chest unlocked. The breath I’d been holding since Wednesday. “You’re home.”

“Yeah.” He glanced up at me, then went back to stretching.

“Are you stiff from the drive?” I asked.

He shook his head, eyes locked on the toes of his shoes. “I showered but didn’t stretch at the gym after Foster and I finished up.”

The gym? “Foster’s gym?”

“Yep.”

I blinked, my sluggish brain trying to sort this out. He’d had time to go meet Foster? Wait. “When did you get back?”

“Last night.”

“Last night?” My jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Figured you were busy.” Jasper shifted, drawing one foot to the inside of the opposite thigh. Then he bent forward again, stretching those long, strong muscles while avoiding anything that resembled eye contact.

I huffed. Was this really happening? Did I mean so little to him that he couldn’t even call to tell me he was back in Quincy? Just a minute ago, I’d been so excited to see him. To hear his voice. To bury my nose in his chest and draw in his spicy scent.

But he’d been here. All day long. Probably glad to have the house to himself for a change.

My hands balled into fists. “I wasn’t busy.”

“Well, you weren’t here.” Accusation, anger, filled his rugged voice.

Was he mad at me? What the hell?

“I was at Lyla’s house because I didn’t want to be here alone. I’ve been at Lyla’s since you left me on Wednesday. She loved the fish tacos, by the way. But she said your cookies need some work.”

Jasper sat up straight.

Before he could say anything, I spun around and stormed inside, moving straight for the bathroom. I made sure to slam the door as hard as possible, then flipped the lock because he was not coming in here.

“Last night.” My entire body vibrated with fury as I stripped off my jeans and The Eloise Inn T-shirt. I balled up the latter, throwing it with all the force I could muster against the tiled floor. Then I turned on the shower, not waiting for the water to warm up before I stepped under the spray.

The moment the icy water hit my shoulders, tears flooded my eyes.

He’d come back last night.

No call. No text. And then to be upset because I hadn’t been waiting with bated breath for his return?

“How dare you, Jasper Vale,” I whispered as the first sob broke through.

God, I had missed him. I had missed him so much it ached. We could have been together last night. We were running out of time, and he’d wasted a whole night being mad.

I would have come running. All it would have taken was a phone call.

He didn’t even care enough about me for a text.

The tears fell hot down my cheeks as the cold water stung the skin on my back. When it warmed, I tilted my head back, letting the water soak my hair and face.

This is fake. This is fake. This is fake.

Over and over again, I replayed those three words. And when the tears had stopped, when my hair and body were clean, I shut off the water and plucked a white towel from the shelf.

Numbness spread through my veins as I brushed out my hair, unable to see my face because the mirror was fogged.

This is fake.

This was a lie. And I’d made the horrible mistake of believing it was real.

The irony was stifling. The one person in Quincy who knew the truth was the one who’d fallen for the lie.

Another wave of tears pricked my eyes but I blinked them away, swallowing the lump in my throat. With my shoulders pinned, my chin held high, and a towel wrapped around my body, I opened the bathroom door.

Jasper stood in the middle of the living room, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his legs planted wide. His gaze was locked on the bathroom door, almost like he’d been standing in that exact spot the entire time I’d showered.

The ten feet between us might as well have been a chasm to the earth’s very core.

“Did you get the job?” My voice didn’t even wobble. Go me.

“He made me an offer.”

“You didn’t accept it?”

“Not yet. But I probably will.”

Then he’d be gone.

Shit. My nose started to sting. More tears were coming, and damn it, I didn’t want Jasper to see me cry. I looked around, searching for a place to hide. Except this fucking cabin didn’t have enough walls or doors.

I’d have to walk past Jasper for the office or the deck. Since I doubted he’d let me lock him out of the bathroom again, I marched toward the kitchen, bypassing the island, and this time, I slammed the front door.

While I’d been in the shower, the clouds had burst. It was still light outside and the overcast sky made the colors around the A-frame pop. The evergreen limbs and the grasses sweeping their brown trunks practically glowed green. Rain drizzled in a steady stream, soaking the trees. Dirt and gravel and pine needles poked the soles of my bare feet as I stepped off the porch stairs and onto the forest floor.

There was a little clearing in the trees outside the A-frame. It wasn’t very big but it was enough that if you craned your neck, you could see the stars.

The stars weren’t out yet. There were no tiny sparkles in the sky to give me hope. But I tilted my head to the gray clouds regardless, letting the water drops coat my face.

This is fake, Eloise.

Why was it so hard to align a head and a heart?

“What the hell are you doing?” Jasper’s voice was a dull murmur against the thunder rumbling in the background.

Still, I heard him. I ignored him.

Until one moment, my face was catching droplets, the next, the rain had stopped. I cracked my eyes open, my lashes heavy with water. And I stared up into Jasper’s eyes.

My heart pounded. Our breaths mingled. I drowned in his dark gaze as his hands cupped my jaw. Then his mouth crushed mine, his tongue sweeping inside with a greedy stroke. The groan that rumbled in his chest echoed in my bones.

Our lips moved frantically as we clung to each other, tongues dueling. He licked and sucked, devouring me whole. And for everything he poured into that searing kiss, I sent it right back. The thunder to his lightning.

We were a storm.

Two souls lost in the pouring rain.

Jasper kissed me until I was breathless, my heart racing. Then he broke away, his eyes searching mine again.

“Eloise.”

Just my name. Something inside me cracked. I was so sick of pretending. I was so tired of caring for this man and not knowing fuck all about him.

“I want to be your friend.” His best friend. Not Foster. Me. “I want you to talk to me. Or try.”

The torment in Jasper’s gaze twisted my heart. He looked like I was asking for the world.

Maybe I was.

“I want to know you, better than anyone else knows you.”

His hands came to my face, his palms pushing away the rain and stroking through my wet hair. “What else do you want?”

I want this to be real.

But it wasn’t.

“I want you to kiss me.”

He didn’t hesitate. He slammed his mouth down on mine again, his tongue sliding along my lower lip.

I moaned, fluttering my tongue against his, just like he’d taught me. The moan that came from his throat, my reward.

Jasper lifted me off the ground, waiting until my arms encircled his shoulders, before he swept me inside.

Then he ripped away my towel.

And used it to clean the dirt from my feet.