Jasper Vale (The Edens)

Marriage.

That word packed a punch.

Eloise stood at the base of the steps, looking at me with those striking blue eyes. They caught the afternoon light, making them shine as vibrant as the sky above our heads.

She was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a sweater with a mock turtleneck. She looked warm. Comfortable, yet stylish. Beautiful.

So goddamn beautiful.

There was some resemblance between Eloise and her older sisters. The long, dark hair. The pink lips and the shape of their mouths.

But Eloise had a youthful appearance that had nothing to do with the age gap between her and her siblings. It was just . . . her. She had effervescence. Energy. A spark that radiated from those pretty eyes.

My wife.

I groaned. “What a fucking mess.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she muttered, starting up the stairs. “Should we go inside?”

“Yeah.” It was cold out today. Winter had a grip on Montana and it showed no signs of loosening its hold. When I left Quincy, I wasn’t going to miss these brutal temperatures.

Though when my flight had landed this afternoon in Missoula, the weather hadn’t bothered me as much as I’d expected. Either I was getting used to the snow, or contemplating the stupidity of my actions had made me numb.

Eloise stopped beside me on the porch, glancing around to take it all in.

There were two levels to the A-frame. The porch stretched across the front. Above us, a balcony extended off the loft bedroom.

When I’d come to Montana in January, the owners had built up an impressive pile of chopped wood for the fireplace. The stacks had dwindled since I’d been here, but hopefully there was enough left to get me through my stay. The logs rested against the porch’s railing, bracketing the center stairs.

The A-frame wasn’t like most I’d seen before. There were no massive windows out front, filling the triangular frame. Instead, those windows were on the backside of the cabin, offering a view to the landscape.

The green tin roof blended with the surrounding trees. The wood-slat siding was the same color as the earthy forest floor. It would have been almost camouflaged except the front door had been painted a bold orange-red, the color of rusted metal.

That red shouldn’t have fit, not that gaudy of a color, but I couldn’t imagine that door being any other shade.

“Cute cabin,” Eloise said. “I’ve never been to this place before. I’ve seen some of the other Stewart properties but not this one. I like it.”

“How did you know where I was staying? You didn’t ask Talia, did you?” Shit. If Talia knew about us, then Foster knew. And that was not a conversation I was ready to have.

“No. God no.” Eloise shook her head. “Talia mentioned a while ago you’d rented a cabin from the Stewarts. Their other vacation rentals are in town.”

“Ah.”

“Small town.” She shrugged. “Privacy has a different meaning in Quincy.”

“I’m learning that.” Every time I went downtown to grab dinner or a pastry from Eden Coffee, someone would wave and call me by my name. Someone I hadn’t met before.

It was . . . odd. Not necessarily bad. Not exactly good either.

“That’s actually the reason I’m here.” She waved a hand to the front door. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” I walked to the door, holding it open.

She breezed past me, her perfume wafting to my nose. Vanilla and spice. Floral undertones and a hint of smoke, like she’d been near a fireplace. The combination was subtle but alluring. It was the scent I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for three days.

“When did you get back?” she asked, her gaze roving around the interior.

“About fifteen minutes ago.” I’d hauled in my bag and immediately gone to light a fire. After it was lit, I’d headed outside on the porch, about to haul in more wood for later, when I’d heard tires crunching on gravel.

“Oh. Good.” She seemed relieved that I hadn’t been back long.

I jerked my chin for her to follow me through the cabin.

The kitchen sat at the front of the house, opposite a small dining nook. I headed for the living room, toward the open ceiling and large windows that overlooked the property. The fireplace crackled, its heat slowly chasing away the chill.

The cabin had baseboard heat, but I had a fire going whenever I was home.

Eloise spun in a circle, taking it all in, from the circular, iron staircase that led to the loft to the open bathroom door beside the laundry room.

The A-frame was small. Intimate. With the loft and another small bedroom, it offered me plenty of space.

It had been built in the seventies and had a vintage vibe. The walls were covered in tongue-and-groove boards. The honey color matched the massive beams that stretched from the floors to the peaked roof. The furniture was a mix of textured upholstery and leather, some pieces newer than others.

Nothing fancy. Everything comfortable. Just right for a guy who’d needed a rental for a couple months.

Montana was only a temporary stop.

Foster had moved up here permanently, but I’d only ever planned to stay long enough to train him through the fight. Then I’d either return to Vegas. Or find somewhere new. If Foster didn’t retire, I planned to travel. To bounce back and forth. If he hung it up, then I had options.

My place in Vegas was waiting. I’d return. Or I wouldn’t. But first . . . Eloise.

The silence between us stretched. She looked everywhere but at me.

What had happened to the woman who talked too much, who voiced every thought in her head? Maybe she was as lost for what to say as I was.

“Sorry.” That seemed like a good enough place to start.

“Things, um . . . they got a little out of hand on Saturday.” The color rose in her cheeks. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s my fault.”

Three days of replaying every moment from Saturday and I still couldn’t figure out what exactly had happened. But I remembered every second. From the fountain to the chapel. The image of her—writhing beneath me with that hair spread out in silky strands across a white pillow, that mouth parted in ecstasy—was branded on my brain.

A surge of blood rushed to my groin. Damn it. That, too, had been a constant the past three days. It seemed I couldn’t think of Eloise and not get hard. I frowned, pissed at myself, and cast my gaze to the windows.

“You do want to get this annulled, though, right?” she asked.

“Yeah.” No question. “The sooner the better.”

“Phew. Thank God.” The air rushed from her lungs. “Just checking.”

Annulment was the only option. So why did her relief bother me so much?

I shook it off, facing her with my arms crossed over my chest. “I’ve got a good lawyer. I can reach out to him and get the process moving.”

“Okay. Obviously I’ve never done this before.”

I wished I could have said the same.

“Should I get a lawyer of my own?” she asked.

“If that would make you feel more comfortable.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking about it for a moment. “I’ll let you know.”

“’Kay.” I nodded. “Better give me your phone number.”

“Right.” She pulled her phone from her jeans pocket, waiting until I recited my number.

A moment later, my own dinged from where it sat on the kitchen island.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“No, uh, yes.” She gave me an exaggerated frown. “I have some things happening. Good things, I hope. But this was sort of, um . . . irresponsible. And it would be great if we could keep it a secret.”

“A secret.” It wasn’t like that hadn’t occurred to me too. But just like her relief, it burned.

“Yes, I really need this to be as quiet as possible. Especially from my family.”

“So you’re asking me not to tell Foster.”

“Exactly.” She sighed again, more of that irritating relief.

“To lie to my best friend.”

A flash of panic crossed her gaze before she clasped her hands together, shaking them as she pleaded, “Please, Jasper. My family will freak out about this. And my entire future hangs in the balance here.”

That was a bit melodramatic. Or it should have been, but there was nothing but sincerity on her face. And desperation. “We can’t hide this forever, Eloise.”

“Not forever. Just until it’s annulled. I’d rather tell people that we messed up and fixed it than have an audience while we’re in the process of unraveling a mess, you know?”

A muscle in my jaw flexed as my teeth clenched.

“So, is that a yes? You’ll keep it a secret?”

Fuck. I really hated lying. And not telling Foster felt like a lie by omission. But maybe she was right. Maybe it would be better to at least get the annulment started before announcing this marriage.

Unless we couldn’t get an annulment and this turned into a complete clusterfuck. I’d save that headache for another day.

“Fine,” I clipped.

“Thank you. Okay, uh . . .” Eloise pointed over her shoulder for the door. “I’ll get out of your way. I need to get back to work. And just call me, I guess, when you hear from your lawyer.”

My gaze dropped to her ass as she walked away, taking in her slender curves and the long line of those sexy-as-fuck legs.

My body’s reaction was instant. Heat flooded my veins. No good would come from me fantasizing about Eloise. Yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

She slipped out the door, the wide curls in her hair bouncing as she jogged down the stairs. The door to her car slammed closed, and moments later, the sound of her tires on the gravel disappeared, leaving me alone in silence.

“Marriage.” I chewed on the word and spit it out.

A secret marriage.

Foster was going to beat my ass for this.

We’d been friends for years. Best friends. We’d met when I’d started going to the gym where he’d trained in Vegas. The two of us had clicked instantly. He’d needed a stronger trainer, someone to push him beyond his limits. In turn, he’d challenged me too.

His career had given me a purpose. His wins were mine. So were his failures.

If he did retire, it would be the end of an era for us both. What next?

“I can’t do a damn thing until I get an annulment.” Or a divorce.

I balled my fists, an undercurrent of frustration buzzing beneath my skin.

A fuckup. I hated fuckups.

Normally, I’d spend a few hours in the ring with Foster, throwing punches and kicks, fighting until the frustration ebbed. But if I called him, he’d want to know why I was angry. He’d want to talk.

And I’d just agreed to keep my damn mouth shut.

So I headed for the stairs, ignoring the bags that needed to be unpacked and the laundry that needed to be washed.

I changed out of my jeans and boots, swapping them for sweats and tennis shoes. Then, with my earbuds in and loud music blaring, I headed outside and started running. It was at the end of Alderson Road that my phone dinged, the chime drowning out the music.

Digging it out, I kept running as I read Foster’s text.

Make it home?

I typed out a quick reply. Yep

Sorry they couldn’t get you on our flight

Yeah too bad

Foster and Talia had returned to Montana today too. When I’d told him I was flying back earlier than originally planned, he’d sent me their itinerary in the hopes I could join them.

Except I’d requested the later option, not wanting to see Foster yet. Not before I’d spoken to Eloise. Maybe because I’d known it would be hard to keep the truth to myself.

A secret? How was I supposed to keep this from him?

There were things Foster didn’t know about me. He knew I’d been married once, but I hadn’t shared those details.

No one knew what had happened.

No one but Sam.

Except this was entirely different. Eloise would be his sister-in-law before long. Of that, I had no doubt. That made us brothers by law.

My feet stopped. My heart hammered.

Not from the run, but from the reality.

Fuck, he was going to be furious. There was a chance this would end our friendship.

“Damn it.” I bent, swiped up a rock from beside the road and threw it as hard as possible into the forest. It hit a tree with a loud thwack, then dropped with a muffled thud.

Foster was one of the only people in this world I trusted wholeheartedly. He’d earned it by confiding in me his ugliest truths.

He’d told me about his history with Talia. The mistakes he’d made years ago. His desperation to win back her heart. His willingness to give up everything for her love.

Talia and I didn’t know each other well, but the fact that she’d been willing to let go of the past, to forgive Foster, well . . . not a lot of people had that strength of character.

They’d both given me their trust.

And this was how I repaid them? With a secret marriage? A secret annulment?

This was wrong.

Eloise had begged, but I shouldn’t have agreed. A secret would only make it worse.

I spun around and sprinted for the A-frame. When I reached the porch, I went straight to the shower to rinse off my run. Then I swiped my keys from the kitchen counter and drove into town, parking in an empty space on Main.

There wasn’t a lot to Quincy, Montana. I supposed for most, that was its appeal. I hadn’t decided if I liked the simplicity of this small town, or if it was the reason I felt this constant restlessness.

Downtown had become a regular hangout spot. I’d spent numerous afternoons walking up and down the blocks, peering through storefronts and office windows. There wasn’t a restaurant I hadn’t eaten in at least twice.

And in the center of it all, the tallest building in sight, stood The Eloise Inn.

I marched toward the hotel, about to open the lobby doors, when a beautiful face appeared in the glass.

“Oh.” Eloise’s eyes widened as she stepped outside. “Sorry. Uh, sir.”

“Sir?” What the fuck?

Eloise gulped. Then before I could inform her we needed to revisit this secret idea, she ducked past me and rushed away.

She practically flew down the sidewalk, reaching the corner and looking both ways before she crossed the street.

“What the fuck?”

Was she really going to pretend like I was some nameless stranger? That I hadn’t been inside her days ago?

“Hell no.” I stormed away from the hotel, following her across the street.

She walked with her head down, chin tucked and her hands pulling on the hems of her sweater, using it to cover her fingers and keep them warm.

I’d forgotten a jacket. This long-sleeved tee was too thin for the cold, but my blood was an inferno, raging hotter with every step.

Eloise headed away from Main, down a street into a residential neighborhood. We reached the end of a block, and she kept on moving.

So did I.

She was supposed to erase the bad. She was supposed to be a beautiful picture over an ugly drawing. This? Not helping.

I didn’t need two miserable experiences when it came to my ex-wives.

By the start of the second block, my long strides had closed the gap between us. I trailed her by three feet.

She heard me behind her and glanced over her shoulder, those blue eyes narrowing. But she didn’t stop walking.

So neither did I.

“Jasper,” she hissed, shooting me a glare. “People are going to see us.”

“Who?” I held out my hands, looking around the deserted street. Not a soul was out in their yard. It was too fucking cold. And no one had driven by either.

She frowned, faced forward and kept on walking.

“You could at least not run away when you see me.” Or call me sir.

“We just agreed to keep this a secret.”

“So that means I’m a fucking stranger to you now?”

She huffed, her breath a billowing cloud as she turned off the main sidewalk for a walkway. She’d changed directions so fast that I’d blown past her and had to turn around to follow her to a small, single-level house with denim-blue siding and a white door.

Eloise stopped on the stoop, bending to lift up the corner of her welcome mat and pull out a key.

“Not a great place to hide your house key,” I said.

“Who’s hiding it?” She slid it into the lock. “That’s just where I leave it.”

I blinked. “You leave your house key outside your house for anyone to find? You’re joking.”

She didn’t answer. She shoved inside the house, dropping her phone on a small table in the entryway before walking to the adjoining living room.

I closed the door behind us and followed.

She whirled, her hands flailing in the air. “Why did you follow me here?”

I was about to tell her I’d changed my mind. That I couldn’t keep this from Foster. But I didn’t get the chance.

“You can’t just follow me.” She waved a hand between us. “If people see us, they’ll know. If my parents find out, I’ll lose everything. They’ll think I’m not responsible. They’ll think I haven’t changed. They’ll think I can’t be trusted with The Eloise. Then that’s it. Poof. They already didn’t want to give it to me. They already tried to give it to Knox and probably would have except he said he didn’t want it because yeah, maybe I wasn’t ready for it then and maybe they were right about me being too close with the employees but it’s been a good year and seriously, this will ruin everything.”

She gulped down some air. Then she started pacing.

The talking? Didn’t stop. Apparently my wife didn’t need to be drunk to ramble.

It was like being in Vegas all over again. I watched her, transfixed, and unable to look anywhere else.

Another man might have glanced around her house. Made sure a serial killer hadn’t used her not-so-hidden key to break in while she’d been at work.

But I just stared.

“Why did we get married?” Her hands dove into her glossy hair. “We could have just had sex. I definitely would have had sex. A lot of sex. Because it was good sex. I mean, we could have kept having sex. But this? My family is going to—”

“Eloise.” I closed the distance between us, my eyes searching hers.

Her shoulders slumped. “I have to show them I’m responsible.”

Oh, how I hated that word out of her mouth. She was too free, too pure of heart, to be trapped by the expectations of others.

“Fuck responsibility.”

“Jasper.” She frowned. “Not helping.”

I didn’t like the frown. So I sealed my lips over hers and kissed it away.

She whimpered, her body stiffening.

No, that wasn’t right. The best part about Saturday was the way she’d melted for me. So I backed off enough to whisper against her mouth. “Relax.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

It took her a moment, but her eyes drifted closed. The tension crept from her frame. When I licked the seam of her lips, she moaned. And this time when I kissed her, she sank into it, letting me slide inside.

Damn, but she tasted good. Better than Saturday. How was that possible?

Would sex be better too?

There was only one way to find out.