British Big Shot: A Hero Club Novel

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British Big Shot: A Hero Club Novel Page 13

by J. H. Croix


  Jasper had enlisted Eloise’s help for the night with a few other staff. He stayed behind the bar and chatted it up with customers. I sat on a stool nearby with my feet hooked over the rungs, thinking I couldn’t wait until the night ended. Because I wanted more of Jasper. As I’d told him this morning, it felt too good.

  “How are you holding up?”

  I’d been staring off into space and glanced in his direction at the question. “Fine,” I insisted. “It’s not that bad. It’s just my hand. And if you weren’t here, I’d be handling everything fine.”

  His sharp gaze coasted over me, and it felt like fire on my skin everywhere his gaze landed. When his eyes made their way back to mine, he lowered his chin slightly. “I know you would. But it’s not necessary. While it is just your hand, you did need stitches. Eight to be exact.”

  “You counted?”

  He flashed a grin then. “I did.”

  At that moment, a woman called, “I’d love to try a few wines.”

  She was already tipsy, so I knew she’d already tried the wines several times. Jasper turned, ever solicitous, and went over to help her. I didn’t miss the way she batted her eyelashes and gave him a coquettish smile.

  “Jasper likes you,” Eloise said from my side.

  Heat flared on my cheeks, but I ignored it and shrugged. “You really think so? He’s just being nice because I hurt myself last night.”

  “You do know the sound travels from the loft, right?” she teased with a sly smile.

  “Busted,” Eloise added when I winced.

  “Oh my God,” I muttered as I grabbed my glass of wine with my good hand and took a long swallow.

  “He sounds talented,” she offered.

  “Please stop,” I pleaded.

  She winked. “That’s all you’ll hear from me about it. You need something to help you relax, and I think Jasper is a great plan for that.”

  Later that night, after Jasper insisted on cleaning everything up with my oversight, we went back up to the loft apartment. Looking his way, I said, “We might’ve been overheard this morning.”

  “Might’ve been?” he returned with a chuckle. “Eloise told me I’d better keep up the good work.”

  I should’ve taken this as a warning to pump the brakes on this madness. But I was foolish, so I didn’t.

  I dove headfirst into what I knew would be a brief but hot affair with Jasper. It was the opposite of smart. It was colossally stupid, and I couldn’t stop myself.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jasper

  “That was amazing,” Bridget said as she set her fork down and pushed her plate back.

  Anna smiled over at her, her cheeks pinkening slightly. “Thanks. I’m glad you two could come for brunch before you left.”

  Simon and Bridget had stopped by for brunch with us before they headed to the airport. Anna had insisted on cooking for them. The meal consisted of fluffy scrambled eggs with fresh tomatoes, goat cheese, and fresh herbs from the garden, along with bacon and roasted potatoes.

  I knew when I flew back to London, I would miss the food. As if reading my mind, Simon caught my eyes. “Does Anna cook like this for you every day?” he teased.

  I shrugged. “Almost. But I don’t insist.”

  Anna took a swallow of her coffee. “How long is your flight?” she asked, shifting the topic.

  “Almost eight hours,” Bridget said. “Fortunately, it’s a direct flight.”

  “How much longer are you staying here?” Simon asked me.

  I shifted my shoulders slightly, hoping Simon didn’t pick up on my discomfort. I didn’t particularly want to discuss this. “I’m scheduled to leave next week.”

  He nodded and didn’t say anything further. Bridget, however, did. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “About what?”

  “The business,” she clarified with an encouraging smile.

  “I’m not selling.”

  I snuck a quick look at Anna, noticing the twitch of worry between her brows. She never said it, but I sensed she was waiting for me to change my mind. I wasn’t going to, and I didn’t enjoy contemplating my subtle emotional uneasiness about why.

  “Smart move,” Simon chimed in.

  “Oh, good to know you think it’s smart,” I teased lightly.

  Simon rolled his eyes. “It is smart. I’m not just saying that to be nice. Plus, I think your grandfather would’ve liked your choice.”

  “His ridiculous requirements in the will made it clear to me that he didn’t want me to sell. It’s also a solid investment,” I explained.

  All of this was entirely true, however that wasn’t why I wasn’t selling. The sense of protectiveness I felt toward Anna was too powerful to ignore. I knew she loved this place and couldn’t imagine her having to give it up.

  There was a light knock on the door at the back of the winery kitchen where we were eating. Anna stood, peering out the windows. “Oh, I forgot. One of my grandmother’s old friends is stopping by to pick up some perennials. I’ll be back in a few.”

  She hurried out, leaving me behind with Simon and Bridget. Bridget looked at me, her eyes assessing. “You really like Anna,” she observed.

  The tension in my neck and shoulders tightened slightly. “Of course, I like Anna,” I replied, striving to keep my tone casual. I wasn’t about to mention that every time I let myself think about Anna, my heart thrashed in my chest. I also wasn’t about to mention that keeping my hands off her would take an act of God at this point, or so it felt. And I didn’t consider myself a religious man.

  Ever since last week, the day after she’d hurt her hand, I’d felt as if I were running too fast downhill. I couldn’t stop for fear of tripping and falling. The momentum of my emotions and need propelled me forward. Not a night had passed when we didn’t fall asleep tangled up together since.

  It felt good, dangerously good. Yet it was stupid. Really stupid. Anna herself had said it wasn’t smart, but I’d arrogantly thought I could control it and keep it compartmentalized.

  Simon drained his coffee and cocked his head to the side. He regarded me quietly before his eyes slid to Bridget’s. “Of course, he likes her. He doesn’t have enough sense to do the right thing about it yet.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I muttered.

  “You’re going to leave,” he said flatly.

  “Obviously, I’m going to leave. I need to go home and run a business.” I hoped my irritation didn’t show in my voice.

  “You can run your business from wherever you want,” Simon retorted smoothly.

  Anna returned with a streak of dirt on her cheek, and my heart thudded restlessly in my chest when she stopped beside the table. “Do you all need anything else?”

  Bridget smiled up at her. “Of course not. You don’t need to wait on us.”

  Anna shrugged and automatically began picking up the empty plates. Bridget stood to help her, and Simon lingered at the table for another moment.

  “What?” I asked when he looked from Anna to me.

  “Maybe ask yourself why you’re so irritable,” he said lightly.

  Not much later, I stood beside Anna in the parking lot and waved as Simon and Bridget drove away. I wasn’t paying attention when Jasper came up and head butted me in the back of my legs. I stumbled slightly and looked down at him. “Really, dude? I thought we were friends.”

  Anna laughed. “He is your friend. That’s why he’s doing that.”

  Looking up at her, I narrowed my eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. He head butted me the very first time he saw me.”

  She threw her head back with a laugh. “Maybe so,” she said, her brown eyes twinkling as she looked over at me. “But now, he really does like you.”

  Eloise called for Anna from the winery kitchen, and the day swept into busy-ness.

  I intended to try to have something like a conversation with Anna later that day, but I never got the chance. I did, however, find it impossibl
e to resist her that night. I found myself in the shower with her, admiring just how amazing the soap bubbles looked on her skin.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Anna

  “Jasper!” I gasped impatiently.

  He lifted me easily, but then, he was that kind of guy. Strong enough that with an assist from the tiled shower wall, he could lift me in his arms and sink inside me. Just like that, I was full of Jasper.

  I was awash in pleasure, and I was still being stupid about it. It was almost annoying how good we were together. Jasper was a generous lover and spoiled me.

  When I fell asleep later, I told myself he was leaving soon. I reminded myself life would go back to the way it was before. Except now I didn’t have to worry so much about money. I might miss Jasper for a little bit, but it would pass. It had to pass. Right?

  Those days flew by in a blur, and suddenly, I woke up and looked at the calendar. Today was the day Jasper would drive away. I hated goodbyes, like really hated them.

  I didn’t have to try to stay busy to keep myself distracted because there was always more than enough to do. I even made sure I was tied up with customers when it was time for him to leave. Eloise appeared in the front area of the winery.

  “I’m covering,” she said sternly, arching her silver brows and sort of glaring at me.

  “I’ve got it,” I said lightly.

  “You’re needed in the back,” she returned pointedly and practically shoved me through the door into the kitchen.

  The very second I saw Jasper standing by the door across the room, my heart started rioting in my chest and I felt a little sick. He wasn’t wearing a suit today although he did have on slacks and a rich blue button-down shirt. It set off his eyes, and he looked delectable. He made a habit of looking delectable with no effort whatsoever.

  Don’t be a coward, you can handle a goodbye.

  Crossing the room, I stopped in front of him. “Are you going?” I asked the most obvious question possible at the moment.

  I prayed he would make this quick. Because I’d gone and fallen for Jasper. I needed him to go so I could get started with getting over him.

  “I thought perhaps you weren’t going to let me say goodbye,” he said, his tone somber.

  My throat was tight, but I managed a quick breath. I swallowed, praying that I didn’t cry. “Just busy,” I squeaked. Looking down at the floor, I added, “Thank you for your help.”

  When I looked back into his eyes, I felt compelled to say what came next. “If you change your mind and want to sell, I’ll sign the agreement.” Those words came out in a rush.

  He was still quiet. I worried my heart was pounding so loud even he could hear it. After a moment, he finally spoke, “I’m not going to change my mind, Anna.”

  “Okay.” I took a step back, but he was faster than me and caught my good hand in his, reeling me close

  “One more kiss.”

  “I hate goodbyes,” I whispered.

  “I hate saying goodbye to you,” he whispered in return, just before brushing his lips over mine and pulling me close.

  Jasper left. That night when I went up to the loft, it felt so empty. So empty that I called Aubrey and asked her if she’d bring me one of those kittens from the litter she found. She’d just told me about it the day before. Aubrey blessedly didn’t ask why and showed up a little while later with an orange kitten.

  “I think they’re about ten weeks old. This one’s a little girl. I even brought you some kitten food.” She handed the kitten over, and the kitten immediately started purring.

  “Thank you.”

  “You can call him, you know,” she said pointedly before leaving.

  I promptly named my new kitten Mango. She kept me thoroughly occupied with her sweetness and playfulness. I still missed Jasper, though, so much that every cell of my body carried an echoing ache.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jasper

  Three weeks later

  “What now?” I snapped.

  “Damn, you need to relax,” Simon’s voice came through the phone line.

  I caught myself about to actually growl into the phone line. “Apologies. I thought you were my assistant.”

  “Is that how you talk to your assistant?” Simon countered.

  This time, I had to catch myself before I sighed. “When I’m running late on a financial report, yes, I suppose I can be impatient.”

  “Ah, I see. When you’re cranky, you’re an ass to your staff. Not a good look.”

  “Hello, Simon. Shall we start again? How are you doing, and what can I do for you today?” I asked smoothly.

  “Bridget wanted to know if you’d be coming back to the US soon, now that you have business interests here.”

  I didn’t miss the sly sarcasm in my cousin’s tone, and I knew without a doubt he was making no effort to disguise it. “No current plans,” I quickly replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. I knew where this was going, and I was already annoyed.

  “How is Anna?” he asked, his tone downright cheery now. I imagined he enjoyed making me uncomfortable. The only advantage I had was he couldn’t actually see me.

  “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to her.”

  “In three weeks?”

  My heart gave a tricky twist in my chest, and my stomach felt a little hollow. I was being an asshole.

  “I wasn’t really paying attention to the time,” I lied, blatantly. I knew exactly how many days it had been since I’d seen Anna. Twenty-two, in fact, one day past three weeks.

  Simon was quiet and then let out a rather elaborate sigh. “Really, Jasper? I thought maybe you finally met someone who would get you to think about something other than business and move beyond your parents’ miserable marriage.”

  “Since when was I your personal project?”

  “You’re not my personal project. You’re my cousin, and whether it’s smart or not, I actually give a damn about you. You seemed more relaxed than I can ever recall when we visited you in California. As a fellow human with workaholic tendencies, I was happy for you. I’m guessing you brought yourself back to London and returned to a life of constant work.”

  “I had a lot to catch up on,” I said, almost wincing at the defensive tone in my voice.

  “Sure, you did,” Simon replied. I could practically feel his disappointment emanating through the phone line into my ear.

  “I did,” I insisted, practically biting my tongue after that. Because my insistence only revealed I was trying to make a point, more to myself than Simon

  “Obviously, I know you had plenty to catch up on, Jasper. You’re generally a busy guy, as most of us are. You’ll have to talk to Anna at some point, seeing as you own a business with her. Or I suppose you could delegate that to one of your minions.”

  “Simon,” I warned.

  “What? No one else will talk back to you, so I’m just trying to help. I’d like to see you a little happier and enjoying life more.”

  “How is Bridget?” I hoped that detour would get him off his focus on Anna.

  It did for a little bit. We chatted like a regular catch-up phone call until the very end. We were saying goodbye when Simon said, “Call Anna. Don’t be an ass.”

  My solicitor stared at me in surprise. “This is not what I expected,” he finally said.

  “What did you expect?” I growled.

  I seemed to be growling a lot and snapping at people. I was in a constant state of irritation.

  Benjamin, who’d known me for years, gave me a long look as he leaned back in his desk chair. “I expected you to want to sell. I figured a month would give you enough time to persuade Miss Lennon to agree to let you sell.”

  I wasn’t about to share the fact that Anna told me she would agree to the sale. “It’s a good investment, if a bit unconventional.”

  He simply stared at me. “Okay, then.”

  That night, I walked into my flat. The sound of my keys dropping in the bowl on the table by the doo
r echoed loudly. Compared to Anna’s loft flat at the winery, my flat was gigantic, and the space felt empty and cold. Rain lashed the windows on this dreary London evening. Hell, I couldn’t even call it evening. It was close to midnight.

  I knew exactly what time it was in California, and I wanted to call Anna. She had nicely texted me the day of my trip to make sure I landed safely. I’d replied that I had.

  I tapped open my phone, my eyes landing on our last text exchange. My heart gave an achy thump. I was being an ass, as Simon helpfully pointed out. He’d adopted some Americanisms since he’d met Bridget and now lived in the US full-time. Ass did have a little more punch to it than arse.

  I finally gave in to the urge. I didn’t call, but I texted.

  How are you? Been thinking of you.

  The urge to tell her that I missed her was strong, but I had some well-formed habits, and all of them involved dodging intimacy. It wasn’t particularly hard not to tell her I missed her. However, not communicating the feeling didn’t change it. Not in the slightest. I missed her fiercely.

  I came awake with a start. I’d fallen asleep fully dressed on my couch. Disoriented, I glanced around, finally realizing the sound of my phone buzzing on the coffee table was what had punctured my sleep.

  I grabbed it and scrubbed my hand over my face. I read Anna’s return text with bleary eyes.

  I’m well. I hope you are too. If you’ve reconsidered selling, please just let me know.

  I wanted to throw the phone because her cold, stilted, and polite response was unsatisfactory. Nothing like the warm, willing girl I’d spent too many nights with and who I dreamt about every night since I’d left.

  A few days later, in what I could only describe as a fit of pique with myself, I attempted to go on a date. Well, let me clarify. It wasn’t a date. I had an arrangement with Jane, a colleague who worked as the CFO for another business. She was lovely and intelligent and had no expectations, none at all. She was too busy for romance and occasionally needed a date for business functions, and we occasionally attached benefits to that arrangement.

 

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