Taking a Chance

by Maggie McGinnis

  “And happily-ever-after. Got it.”

  Daniel was quiet for a minute, then shrugged. “Everybody deserves one. Some of us just get lucky enough to get a second chance when the first one doesn’t work out.”

  “Maybe.” Jasper felt his entire rib cage suck inward. “Our situations aren’t really the same, though.”

  “I lost my wife. You lost yours. How different could they possibly be?”

  Jasper took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

  Oh, they were hellishly different.

  —

  “How could you possibly miss this dinner, Jasper?” Bridget’s eyes were red-rimmed, and mascara streaks ran down her cheeks. “Again?”

  “I’m sorry. I got tied up. You know I don’t have a choice about these things, baby.” Wow, she was pissed. He was using his best soothing voice—the one that always worked.

  But this time it didn’t.

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me. I can’t believe you did this again, after you promised—you promised—to make a better effort.”

  “I tried. I did. And I cut out as early as I could.”

  “From what, exactly?”

  Shit.

  “It was just a drinks thing. With Sinclair. You know how that goes.”

  “Yeah, I do. He says, ‘Jump!’ and you say, ‘How high?’ ”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No, Jasper. What’s not fair is that I had to make excuses for you again. I always have to make excuses for you.”

  “I’m sorry, okay? I have a job! I have responsibilities. And I’m sorry I missed some stupid little dinner, but Jesus. Give me a break. It’s Friday night, I put in sixty-plus hours this week, and I just wanted to come home and have a nice evening with my wife, not get met at the door with a list of my most recent transgressions.”

  “ ‘Stupid little dinner’?” Her sculpted eyebrows arched high.

  “We can see Luke and Hannah anytime.”

  “Luke and Hannah are moving to Boston, Jasper. But that wasn’t enough of a reason to tell your clients you were too busy tonight?”

  “I—shit.” How had he forgotten they were moving? He scanned conversations from the past week, trying to remember when they’d last talked about it. Had he known, even?

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms. “But hey, don’t worry. You have the flu. They understood.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. Really. I just—I forgot.”

  “I know. But I bet if I asked you the name of your third-biggest client’s grandson right now, you could rattle it off in a second.”

  Micah. Seven years old. Good at baseball and hockey, not so good at math.

  “No, I couldn’t. That’s not fair.”

  “What’s not fair is this, Jasper.” She pointed at her dress. “I sat here waiting for you, after you promised—promised—that this time you’d make it. I’ve made excuses to our best friends, to my parents, to my sister and brothers, to everyone in our lives.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. You know that.”

  “No,” she said. “That’s bullshit. You have choices. You’re making choices.”

  “My choices are for us, Bridget. I’m almost there. By this time next year, I’ll be a partner, and then we’ll move up the hill. We’ll go to Cozumel. We’ll take a nice, long vacation by the ocean, and we’ll toast to all of these hours that got us here.”

  She shook her head slowly, like she was studying him and suddenly finding him lacking—so, so lacking.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—I’m not even sure what I mean. But how long are you going to keep saying ‘by this time next year’ before you realize that we never, ever get where you say you want to be? When…when will it be enough?”

  “It is enough. We’re happy, we have a beautiful house, our friends are here. This is the life we dreamed of back in college. We’re living it.”

  She shook her head again. “I’m not.”

  His gut squeezed. Something in her eyes wasn’t right. Something in her spine was steelier than he’d seen before. Something in her jaw—something was so, so wrong.

  “Come on, baby.” He stepped forward, tried to pull her close, but she put up her hands and backed out of reach.

  Shit.

  “What’s wrong? Why is this suddenly such a big deal?”

  “It’s not sudden, Jasper. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to make apologies for us when you couldn’t get home to do whatever?”

  “I’m an attorney, Bridget. I have clients. It’s my job to be available for them when they need me.”

  “Well, guess what? I’m your wife, Jasper. And I thought it was your job to be available for me.”

  “Bridget, honey. What’s really going on? This isn’t you.”

  She studied his face again in that same analytical, disappointed way. “I’m…tired, Jasper. I’m lonely. I’m—I’m just…done.”

  “Bridget.” He felt the actual prick of tears as his stomach did 360s. What the hell was going on here? “Come on. We can fix this. We can—I can do better.”

  She shook her head miserably, and his chest hurt as tears fell down her cheeks. “I don’t believe that anymore.”

  “Honey, please.”

  “No.” She crossed her arms more tightly. “Just…no.”

  Oh, hell. She was serious. She was really, really serious. She’d had fits before, she’d been jealous before that in her mind, his clients came first, but this felt different. She was mad, but she was also…defeated.

  Time to pull out the big guns.

  “Hey, you know what I’ve been thinking about lately? Why don’t we start trying? For a baby.”

  Desperate times, desperate measures, right? He wasn’t ready to be a father yet—he knew that—but if it would make her stay…

  But instead of seeing a little light return to her eyes…instead of seeing a glimmer of possibility in her face…all he saw was abject misery.

  “That’s rich, Jasper. Really rich.”

  “I mean it.”

  “No, you don’t. You don’t mean it any more than you meant it when you agreed to dinner tonight. You don’t mean it any more than you meant it when you said yes to Aspen with my parents last Christmas. You don’t mean it any more than you meant it when you promised to be home at least one fucking weekend a month.”

  Her use of the F-bomb hit him like a butcher’s knife to the ribs. Bridget never swore. Ever.

  “I’m leaving you,” she whispered, her voice catching on the last word.

  “Ah, hell, Bridget. No. Where would you go?”

  “To my parents’ house. For now. I don’t know, after that.”

  He closed his eyes. Okay, maybe a little cooling-off would be good. Maybe a couple of days with her folks would have her patched up a little and willing to talk. He shouldn’t argue.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” She looked up, angry-surprised.

  “Okay about taking a couple of days at your parents. Not okay about—the rest.”

  “Well, here’s the thing, Jasper. You don’t get to decide.”

  Her back straightened, and she pulled a tissue out of the box on the counter, wiping her cheeks.

  “I—what’s that about? I’ve never made your decisions for you.”

  “You decided this life for us.”

  “You wanted this life. Have you forgotten that?”

  “I didn’t. I didn’t want this one. I wanted to be your wife. I wanted to have babies with you. I wanted to live happily-ever-after in a nice Victorian house on a nice, safe street. With you. I didn’t want to live in a big, empty house by myself, with a husband who couldn’t be bothered to give me a tenth of the time he gives his clients. I didn’t sign up for that.”

  “You can’t get where we want to be without putting in the time at the front end. That’s what I’ve been trying to do! I’m trying to give us the life we dreamed of, Bridget.”

  “Well, guess
what? You can continue to do so, but I’m out. This isn’t my dream. And honestly? Here’s what’s killing me right now.” She paused, trying to steady her shaking chin with her fingers. “You’re not my dream anymore, Jasper. I—I don’t even know you.”

  An hour after she left the house—an hour after he’d begged and pleaded and reached after her to grab only air—the doorbell rang, and he set down his whiskey glass in relief. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and went to the door, never stopping to question why she wasn’t just coming in through the garage, like usual.

  “Mr. Stone?” A police officer stood on the wide porch, and in the ten seconds it took Jasper to nod in shock, the entire frigging world tipped over.

  Days later, he sat alone in the darkened living room, not having bothered to turn on the lights since Bridget had left. He’d read the coroner’s report that sat on the floor beside him a thousand times, but he picked it up again.

  One word hit him like a battering ram to the gut. Hit him every time he read it, so he kept reading it, because maybe that ram would finally kill him, too. And that would be the only fair thing about this whole situation.

  Chapter 20

  “I didn’t realize marshmallow-roasting was such serious business.” Emma smiled as she sat down next to Jasper on a log a couple of hours later. After Shelby and Cooper finished a little five-song set, a couple of the guys had built a monstrous bonfire in the fire circle just down from the main lodge, and everyone was gathered around it now as Kyla and Ma doled out marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate.

  Sparks drifted toward the sky, then fizzled out, and Jasper blinked hard, trying to erase the earlier images from his head.

  “What do you mean, ‘serious business’?”

  “Well, I just figure with the level of concentration you’re giving the one on your stick, there must be some sort of perfect s’more prize or something you’re after.”

  “Nope. Just tired, I think.”

  “Oh.” She nodded uncomfortably. “Did you want to head out? We can leave anytime. You don’t have to stay on my account.”

  He looked at her. “You really want to go back to that depressing hotel room?”

  “Not a bit, no. Especially after seeing the cabin Kyla just showed me.”

  “You going to move out here now?” He smiled. “Told ya you’d fall for the place.”

  “I’m not sure what my expense account will stand for, but wow. So tempting.”

  “You could always try the ask-forgiveness-later route and just book it.”

  Emma laughed. “Don’t tempt me.” Then she squawked as her marshmallow dropped into the fire. “Shoot.”

  “Uh-oh,” Hayley called from across the circle of logs, pointing at the spot where Emma’s marshmallow sizzled. “You know what that means.”

  “What?” Emma asked.

  “You have to kiss somebody.”

  “Yup.” Daniel put his arm around Hayley’s shoulder. “And I should know. Hayley’s been dropping them on purpose all night.”

  “Have not.” She elbowed him.

  Jasper watched Emma out of the corner of his eye as she listened to Daniel and Hayley. She smiled, but it was tight.

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I think there’s a special dispensation for first drops, especially if somebody doesn’t know the rules.”

  “Oh, please.” Hayley rolled her eyes. “You can’t be that bad to kiss.”

  Beside him, Emma slapped her hand to her mouth, but not before he heard a surprised little snort erupt.

  “Sorry.” She laughed, then widened her eyes as she lost her balance on the log. She bumped into his stick as she righted herself, and with a sizzle, his marshmallow dropped into the fire.

  “Ha!” Hayley laughed. “Now it’s like fate! You both dropped them. You have to kiss.”

  Jasper raised his eyebrows. “How old are we all?”

  “Currently, twelve, but I’m cool with that.” Hayley’s own eyebrows went up in response, but Jasper shook his head, and she shrugged, apparently deciding not to push it.

  Emma leaned close. “Is this now a challenge to your manhood?”

  “Not one I’m worried about.”

  “Because it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” She shrugged. “I mean, if it helps you preserve your rep or whatever.”

  “I’m not going to kiss you to preserve my rep, Emma—such as it is.”

  “Okay. Just offering.”

  “Do you want me to kiss you?”

  “Hell, no.”

  He sat back. “Well, feel free to think on it. Jeez.”

  She laughed. “You could ask me why.”

  “Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Why is the answer ‘hell, no’?”

  “Because I’m afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Of wanting more than a kiss.”

  He felt his eyes go wide, and he shook his head. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Maybe I want to hear it again.” He looked at her until she finally looked back up at him. “Are you serious?”

  “I…think so.”

  “Why?”

  “Does there have to be an analysis? You’re single, I’m single, the world is turning, we might die tomorrow, so why not enjoy tonight, yadda yadda.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, that was so you.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “Totally didn’t sell that, did I?”

  “Nope.”

  “I don’t know, Jasper. But I do know I’m kind of sick of analyzing my every move to absolute death. I just spent one of the best days of my life out here with you, and maybe I’m just stupidly high on fresh air and horses and big, friendly families. Maybe I want a slice of it for myself because it’s all the things I don’t have.”

  She looked down. “Or maybe I have been trying for two weeks to think of you as only a resident’s son who I’ll forget as soon as I go back to Florida—”

  “Smart.”

  “It’s not working.”

  “No?”

  “Hell, no,” she whispered.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He smiled. “No, I’m not. But if I say it’s unintentional, does that get me any points?”

  “I don’t know. Depends what you mean by unintentional. Because that tree was pretty damn intentional today.”

  “Wasn’t, actually. I honestly meant to just show you the view.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And then you went and leaned up against me, and your hair smelled so damn good, and your whole body quivered when I touched you…”

  “Ah, so it’s my fault.”

  “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

  “I was just trying not to fall out of the tree.” She smiled, then looked around like she’d just realized other people might be listening. “Thank you for bringing me out there. Thank you for bringing me here. It’s—it’s been a great day.”

  “Better than work?”

  “Haven’t even thought about work. Not even once.” Her eyes widened. “Seriously!”

  “Good. I might be out of line suggesting it, but I have a feeling you could use more days like this.”

  “Oh, I could definitely use more days like this.” She nodded slowly, her face thoughtful. Then she smiled and leaned close. “Hey—don’t you need to feed the kittens?”

  He shook his head. “One of my café kids took care of it.”

  “But…I mean…don’t you have to do it every few hours?”

  “Yeah, but they’re fine for now.” He shrugged like it was nothing to worry about, then caught the way her eyebrows were up, her eyes wide, like he was a thick doofus who wasn’t understanding something.

  “So they’re good?” She nodded slowly. “We don’t need to maybe go check on them? At your nice, warm house, where nobody lives besides you, and nobody’s staring at us like they’re waiting for us to jump each other right here on this log? W
here maybe we might—I don’t know—watch a movie or something?”

  “Oh-h,” he said, as if it was just dawning on him what she was suggesting. “A movie might be nice, sure. I haven’t watched a movie in a while.”

  She looked like she might thud her head on her knees, which amused him probably more than it should.

  “Yes, Jasper. A movie. Definitely not snuggling. Or kissing. Or maybe ignoring the movie and going upstairs to your room. Definitely not turning the lights down low and undressing me so, so slowly that you feel like you might die before you’re finished. And definitely, definitely not lying with me in the dark, forgetting about everything else in this entire world until tomorrow morning.”

  He stared at the fire for a long, long moment while his body processed her words, and the whispery tone she’d used to deliver them, but as soon as he could do so without embarrassment, he stood up and turned to the others at the fire.

  “Emma needs to—go. So I’m—we’re going to go.”

  Oh, for God’s sake. Had the English language fled south along with all of his blood?

  Hayley grinned from the other side of the fire. “Good night, then! Great to meet you, Emma!”

  “You, as well,” Emma said as Jasper pulled her to her feet. Then she turned to where Ma and Cole sat on one log. “Thank you so much for letting me join you for supper, and for letting me ride this afternoon.”

  “You’re welcome anytime,” Ma answered. “Anytime at all.”

  “Good to have you here, Emma.” Cole stood up and reached out a hand. “Keep Jasper out of trouble, will ya?”

  Emma laughed. “That might be a bigger job than I’m capable of.”

  Everyone called their good-nights, and it was all Jasper could do not to pull Emma into a dead sprint on the way to his truck. Yeah, it’d been—forever but still. The thought of her in his house, in his bed, under him, around him…ah, hell.

  As he opened the passenger door for her, he paused. “You sure about this?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Is that your line of the night?”

  “Hell, yes.” She laughed. “It’s working pretty well so far.”

  —

  “Here we are again,” Jasper said as he unlocked the café door and opened it for her to walk through. “Home sweet home.”