Jasper Vale (The Edens)

“You’re a good dancer,” I told Jasper as he led me around the floor. “We should dance more. Do you know the two-step? Or the jitterbug?”

“No,” he said, twirling us in a circle.

“Oh. Want to learn? I just know the girl part, but Griffin or Knox or Mateo could teach you. They’re all good dancers. We could all go dancing at Willie’s one night.”

Jasper spun us again, his low hum the only acknowledgment of my idea.

“Was that a yes?”

He chuckled.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” I smiled, following his footsteps.

His cheek was pressed against my temple. One hand held mine while the other cupped my ass, unabashedly feeling me up. Jasper’s grip was a not-so-subtle reminder of the claw marks I’d left on his own delicious behind.

From the moment we’d returned to the wedding reception, there’d been a bubble around us. Jasper and I had been in our own world, ignored by the other guests. Ignoring the other guests.

We’d found fresh flutes of champagne. We’d raided the food trays, sampling the post-dinner fare. And even Jasper had indulged in the cake—definitely not as good as Lyla’s—before he’d swept me onto the dance floor.

I’d been in his arms ever since. My head was perfectly buzzed from the champagne. I was still riding the high from sex upstairs earlier. My limbs felt loose. And even though his icky parents and his infuriatingly beautiful ex-wife were in the room, somehow, I’d managed to block them out.

No one had better try to pop my happy bubble.

“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.”

My gaze drifted around us, and for the first time tonight, I saw a pointed stare. A woman turned away too fast when she met my gaze. Had people been staring at me all night? Pitying me?

Did they see me as some pathetic stand-in? The woman who could never compete for Jasper’s heart? Not when it had belonged to the woman in a white gown.

The woman he’d loved his entire life.

“There’s a reason you’re in Italy.” John bent lower to speak directly in my ear. “Jasper will never let go of Samantha. He might pretend to care. He might even be fooling himself. But at some point, he’ll realize it’s fake. And then you’ll disappear. I have no delusions Samantha’s marriage will last. And once it fizzles, they’ll find their way back to each other.”

Fake. Jasper and I were fake. And oh, how I hated that word.

It took everything I had to hide a reaction. To keep it hidden that he’d fired a shot and hit me straight in the heart. Be tough. “Like I said, I’ll have to disagree with your opinions.”

“You’re a stupid girl to believe you’re anything other than a fleeting distraction,” he whispered.

A stupid girl Jasper had married on a drunken whim.

A mistake.

“Thanks for the dance.” With one purposeful step, I pulled away.

Jasper’s arms were waiting.

He swept me away from John and Ashley, the pair exchanging a look like they’d planned that interruption all night.

“What did he say?” Jasper asked.

“Nothing nice,” I admitted, struggling to breathe.

“I’m sorry.”

I shrugged, swallowing the lump in my throat. Don’t cry. “It was bound to happen. You warned me about it, right?”

My mistake had been thinking we’d get that attitude from his own parents, not Samantha’s. No bathroom run-in tonight. Just an ambush on the dance floor.

As Jasper led us around, I scanned the room again. People were staring. Whispering.

Damn, I was an idiot. How could I have let myself believe this was real?

Stupid Eloise.

Maybe Samantha had broken his heart, had betrayed his trust, but he’d loved her for years. We were at her wedding, weren’t we? Maybe John was right.

Maybe Jasper wouldn’t ever really let her go.

My chest ached, and the swelling of emotions made it hard to breathe. Goddamn it. Don’t cry. I would not cry tonight.

“Ask me another question, El.”

“I’m all out of questions.” My voice cracked.

“Ask me.” His lips caressed my forehead as he spoke. “Please.”

It was the please that made tears flood my eyes. But I blinked them away, refusing to let the assholes in this room win. “What’s your favorite city in the world?”

“Paris.”

It was on my bucket list.

“Have you been?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Someday.”

Someday I’d visit all the pretty cities. I’d add more stamps to my passport. Maybe, if I was lucky, the man who came with me on those trips would be free to love me too.

“Come on.” Jasper broke the dance, clasped my hand and led me from the ballroom. His strides were so long that I had to skip every couple steps to keep up.

He walked straight for the elevator and hit the button for our floor, digging a key card from his pocket the moment we reached level three. As he headed down the hallway, he pulled out his phone from his jacket, quickly typing in something before pressing it to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” I asked, rushing to keep up.

He kept moving, unlocking our room’s door. “Yes, I need a chartered flight from Naples to Paris. Tonight. Departing in two hours.”

I gasped.

Jasper looked down at me, something serious in his gaze. Then the crinkles appeared. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin, before he waved me into the room. “Go pack. Hurry.”

Pack. For Paris.

At the moment, being anywhere other than Italy, than this hotel, seemed like a brilliant idea.

I flew into action, racing around the room to sweep up everything I’d scattered around in the past couple of days.

Jasper did the same as he talked on the phone, giving our details to whoever was on the other end of that call.

How much did it cost to fly from Naples to Paris on a whim?

At the moment, I really didn’t care. France sounded like the perfect escape.

Jasper ended the call, his suitcase and carry-on bag both packed and zipped shut on the bed. He came to the bathroom, standing at my side to help collect my toiletries from the counter where we’d scattered them earlier, shoving them into my travel case.

“Are we really going to Paris?” I asked.

He met my gaze in the mirror. “We’re really going to Paris.”

THE CITY OF LIGHT.

Paris at dawn was magical.

The streets were quiet. Only a few cars traveled along the sleepy roads. A woman walking her dog passed by, but other than the murmured French she spoke into her phone, the city was still tucked in from last night.

Jasper and I stood on the Pont d’Iéna, the Seine flowing beneath the bridge’s arched feet. His gaze was on the river. Mine was locked on the Eiffel Tower, catching the early sun’s rays.

The jet he’d chartered last night had touched down in Paris five hours after we’d rushed from the hotel in Italy. He’d hailed us an Uber to a hotel, but only so that we could drop off our luggage before the same car had brought us here. Just in time to watch the sunrise.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I whispered.

Jasper’s chin was on my head, his arms around my shoulders. “Dream come true?”

“And then some.”

Because we were together. Because I’d let myself fall into the illusion again.

Someday, I’d go back to Italy. I’d visit Rome and Tuscany. I’d eat my weight in pasta and gelato. But I doubted I’d ever come to Paris again.

This was a memory I didn’t want covered with another.

The breeze caught a tendril of hair, whipping it into my face. I was still in my dress from the wedding. Jasper was in his tux, though he’d draped the jacket over my shoulders to keep me warm.

A yawn tugged at my mouth.

But I refused to move from this spot or admit I was exhausted.

If this was my morning in Paris, I wouldn’t waste it. So we stood together, locked together, as the city began to stir. Tourists and Parisians crossed the bridge. Cars clamored along the roads. Only when the gates to the tower opened did Jasper and I finally abandon our spot on the bridge. Then we spent the day exploring.

From the Louvre to the Notre-Dame Cathedral to the charming, crowded streets of Montmartre, we barely skimmed the surface of all there was to see, bouncing from one place to the next. In another life, each spot would get an entire day of its own, but since we only had one, I made the most of it.

Until the sun had completed its journey across the sky and ducked beyond the horizon. Until we were back in the same place we’d been this morning. On the bridge over the Seine, standing at the base of the Eiffel Tower once more to watch its shimmering lights against the darkened sky.

“Ready to go back to the hotel?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

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.