I might have kept going, except Jasper puts a finger over my lips and says, “I’m glad you saw Theo. I hope it helped. And I’m so very sorry about how this all happened. I knew Scarlett’s feelings, regardless of whether I acknowledged them, but I never meant to be with you at the expense of your friendship with my sister. I need to say that before anything else.”
“I knew Scarlett’s feelings, too, and I never meant to be with you at her expense, period. I should have told her when I first knew I was falling for you. I should have admitted it the minute I knew, but I could barely admit it to myself.” I slide my arms around Jasper’s neck.
His meet at the small of my back and pull me close. “Can we go back to the part when you first knew you were falling for me? When was that, exactly?”
I grin and roll my eyes. “I suspected the night we went to Manchester. I knew the night of the wedding.”
“Do you want to know when I knew?” Jasper leans his forehead against mine and I nod. “The night we went to Windermere. I hated that night more than any in recent memory.”
“That feels like a long time ago.”
“A lifetime.” This time when Jasper kisses me, it’s slow and his lips are soft. His tongue meets mine and it’s not until my hand fists the front of his shirt he deepens the kiss.
By the time we break apart, my lips are swollen and the bats in my chest are back. This time clamoring for more. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to help Lou.” I let my fingers walk down the buttons of Jasper’s shirt, unbuttoning one. “Can we continue this later?”
“You name the time and place and I’m yours.” Jasper pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and his fingertips brush my jawbone before gently lifting my chin so my eyes meet his. “I mean it. I’m yours, Bea. Completely.”
“I’m yours, too.” I take Jasper’s hand and twine his fingers with mine, holding it between us. I feel the pounding of his heart, then mine. Perfectly in sync.
Chapter Thirty-Six
My last night at Castle Calder is the busiest night we’ve had all summer, apart from the wedding. Lou and I serve forty-five dinners and twenty desserts, and at least half of them are special orders needing to be prepped from scratch. By the time Scarlett comes through the kitchen door with a load of dishes at 9:45, my apron is splattered with tomato sauce and sticky with whipped cream, I’ve ripped a nail, and I’ve got a burn mark on my arm from not paying attention to the oven.
“The last couple ordered dessert, so we’re almost in the clear.” She drops the dishes near the dishwasher and begins loading. “Unfortunately for your going away shenanigans, there are still loads of people in the bar.”
“You know what? At this point, I’m not sure I’m up for shenanigans. I’ll settle for a glass of wine with my name on it,” I say, going over to help Scarlett load the dishes.
“That is a given,” Scarlett says. “In fact, you go clean yourself up and I’ll help Lou.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” My protest is half-hearted, but I know how much Scarlett hates the kitchen.
“If we end up taking your party to the bar so everyone can join in, you might not want to go out looking like that,” Lou says. “You’ll scare the guests.”
I stick my tongue out. “I cannot believe you said that. I’d be offended if you weren’t so right.”
Lou waves me off. “Go. And come back down to the bar when you’re ready.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I slip out of the kitchen and towards the stairs to the attic. Since coming back from London, I’ve been staying with Jasper in the attic room and, at this point, I’m more or less moved in. Claire said we could stay in the cabin, but the attic room feels like home. This whole place feels like home.
On cue, there go my eyes filling up again. I’ve been tearful off and on all day. Leaving here and going back to Atlanta is so far down the list of things I want to do, I can’t even see it. But I have to be at school for teacher training days before the kids come back next week and I’ve already changed my flight once.
I keep telling myself how lucky I am to have had this time at all. Don’t look a gift horse… Blah, blah, blah. It doesn’t stop my heart from hurting over the prospect of leaving tomorrow morning.
By the time I reach the attic, I’m dangerously close to all out sobbing. My first stop is the bathroom, where I splash water on my face until it cools. I do another round with the apricot cleanser Scarlett gave me before I look in the mirror. My eyes are still bright, but I don’t have my cry face on anymore, thank God.
I grab my make-up bag, knocking over Jasper’s razor and deodorant in the process. My glimpse of his room earlier this summer did nothing to prepare me for actually living with him, but living with Scarlett did. He’s as messy as she is, probably worse, and when I suggested maybe he could confine his disorder to one section of the bathroom, he looked at me the same way she does whenever this argument comes up at home – like I’ve got two heads, three mouths, and all of them are speaking Chinese.
But then he kissed the one mouth I do have. And my neck. And the spot at the base of my throat that makes me squirm. And I forgot why I cared so much about the bathroom being tidy when his hands were pulling my panties down and he was clearing a space on the bathroom counter before falling to his knees.
I told him afterwards making me come is a dirty way to win an argument, and he asked if it would be fairer if he made me come twice.
I feel a zing of desire and shake my head at myself in the mirror like that will make it subside. Jasper’s already warned me not to expect much sleep tonight. I don’t need to add to the buildup.
I focus on my make-up. Cover-up, blush, a little eye shadow, and waterproof mascara make a world of difference. So does brushing my hair. I put it back up in a messy bun because I know Jasper likes it off my neck.
I also purposely put on the dark blue halter dress I know he likes. It’s a similar style to the one I tried on at Harvey Nichols, but with an H&M price tag, and it definitely shows off my so-called assets. I almost don’t mind it’s a UK sixteen. Almost.
One more glance in the mirror above the dresser and I’m ready. It feels weird to be dressed up when everyone else will be in work clothes, but Scarlett made me promise I’d let them make a fuss over me and, as she says, “that means dressing the part.”
I’m extra glad I’ve taken the time when I hear the noise from the bar. It sounds like every guest in the hotel is in there, and judging by the crowd when I walk in, it looks that way too. But it takes me only seconds to find the people I care for. Jasper and Will are behind the bar pulling pints of beer, Scarlett, Claire, and Lou sip glasses of wine off to the right, and Hannah smiles, talking with Paul by the entrance to the dining room. I close my eyes for a second, as if I can capture the moment like a photograph in my mind.
When I open them again, Scarlett’s striding towards me, holding a glass in an outstretched hand. “Come on. We’ve been waiting for you,” she says, thrusting the glass at me. “You look great, by the way. Very glam.”
“So do you. Honestly, I want a magic fairy who turns my bedraggled work self into a siren with the flash of an apron and a few necklaces.” I flick my fingers at one of the chains Scarlett wears around her neck.
“I’ll trade my magic fairy for a guy who looks at me like that when I walk into a room.” Scarlett points to Jasper, who grins at me from behind the bar with a smile so bright it could power a small village.
I grin and wink, then turn my attention back to Scarlett. “I mean, he’s your brother, which is a little ick, but maybe that’s how you all do things here?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, don’t be disgusting. You’re welcome to him.” Scarlett elbows me in the ribs and rolls her eyes.
“Maybe Mr. Waring-Smith is more your style? I read Fifty Shades like everyone else, you know.” The fact we can even joke about this is testament to how far we’ve come in the past couple of weeks. If pressed, I’m not sure Scarlett would say she’
s totally comfortable with Jasper and me together, but I’m not going to press her.
“Uh huh. And I read Medea, so don’t test me. Come on, we have a surprise for you.” Scarlett weaves her way back towards the table where Lou and Claire wait.
“Finally. We tried to wait for you, but we didn’t try very hard.” Claire smiles and raises her glass as we join her and Lou. “Cheers. To Bea’s great British summer.”
I take a sip of wine before raising my glass in return. “To everyone who’s made my British summer great.”
“I don’t think everyone’s here yet,” Claire says, nodding towards the bar, eyebrows raised.
“I’m all-inclusive in my toasts. Besides, I’m pretty sure we’ll have a few toasts tonight.”
Do we ever. We have toasts with the girls, Hannah and Paul, Jasper, and the guests who’ve stayed on, sensing a party. By the time Lou and Claire wheel out a huge chocolate cake on a trolley, I’ve got my arm firmly around Jasper as much out of affection as necessity. I switched to water in my wine glass a while ago, but I can still tell I drank too much early on.
Lou stands opposite the trolley and says, “It’s your favorite. Chocolate torte.”
Scarlett, whose wine glass has been on constant refill all night, says, “And you’re having a big piece. No one-bite-and-I’m-done tonight.”
I nod and Jasper squeezes my waist, saying, “I think Mum wanted to say a few words first.”
“Indeed, she does,” Hannah says. She waves a hand towards Will, who clangs a bell somewhere behind the bar until everyone quiets. There are still at least twenty guests, most of whom I’ve spoken to tonight as Scarlett’s told everyone – loudly – I’m leaving in the morning. They all turn their attention to Hannah, who fishes a piece of paper from the pocket of her dress with a sheepish smile, although her voice is loud and clear as she speaks. “I had to write down notes because I was afraid I’d forget what I wanted to say. Bea, having you this summer has been an absolute pleasure. I’ve always been glad you’re such a good friend to my daughter, and seeing you make my son so happy feels like a gift. We’ll miss you tremendously and know you always have a home here, whether you need a break, a job, or just a cup of tea.”
People chuckle, but my eyes are brimming. I’m twenty seconds away from losing it already.
Hannah nods at Lou, who clears her throat and takes her own piece of paper out of a pocket. Crap. Make that ten seconds away from losing it.
“When you walked into my kitchen your first day, my only thought was, ‘What on earth am I going to do with this girl?’” Lou says, smiling. My first tear spills over. So much for ten seconds. “But then you kept at it and through dogged determination you became someone I rely on. And, well, if ever again you decide that teaching’s not for you, I’d have you back in my kitchen in an instant. You let me know ahead of time, though, so I can negotiate a fair wage for you first.”
More chuckling. Jasper wipes a tear from my cheek and kisses the top of my head as Lou nods at Claire.
She smiles and her own eyes are watery as well. “I’m going to keep it short and sweet, Bea. You’ve been an amazing roommate. Well, for the time we’ve actually been roommates.” She throws a pointed look at Jasper. “And I’m holding you to meeting up in New York when I graduate next year, so start planning.”
I smile and nod but don’t trust myself to speak. Especially as Scarlett takes a deep breath and raises her glass in my direction. She doesn’t speak to me, but looks at the people around me. “Bea’s been my best friend since we were twenty years old, and I was a scared transfer student moving into a dorm at one of the biggest universities in America.” She pauses and laughs. “I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it felt like it at the time. But the point is, Bea was my assigned roommate and I left her no choice but to become my friend because I was needy. A lot of things happened this summer, but the one thing I’ll remember is I got to know my best friend. Really know her. Maybe for the first time. And it’s been bloody brilliant.” Scarlett looks at me, finally. Her eyes are shiny. Luminous, almost.
I’m crying for real now and when Jasper’s hand slips down my ribcage, I grab it and shake my head. I’ll be a puddle on the floor if he goes next. When I turn to him, I’m surprised to see his eyes are full too, and he says, “I had a whole speech prepared, but I don’t think either one of us could get through it, so I’m going to have to improvise, okay?”
He pulls me close, resting his forehead against mine, and I take a shaky breath, nodding. No one moves, like they’re waiting for a declaration.
“I love you,” he says, his voice low. Then his voice grows louder. “I love you.” And louder as he lifts his head and rests his chin on my hair. “I love this woman. I love her for who she is and who I am when I’m with her, and for every other cheesy cliché reason you can think of and a few you cannot. I love her for the way she loves me, which is no small feat, as those of you who know me are aware.”
Scarlett’s voice rings out. “Hear, hear.”
“Case in point,” Jasper says and there’s a ripple of laughter. As it dies he continues. “Most of all, I love her for the way my family and friends love her because they do. We do. I do.”
“And that’s a toast. Who wants cake?” Scarlett again, though her voice sounds scratchy now.
Cheers and clinking glasses echo around me and, slowly, conversation begins again as people gravitate toward the trolley. I keep my face buried in Jasper’s shirt until I can catch my breath, and I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand before I look up. “God, I love you.”
“I love you, too. And may I say, you look ravishing this evening? As in, stunning, obviously, not as in to take by force.”
I smile and kiss the corner of his mouth. “You won’t have to force me. Trust me on that.”
“Stop or we won’t make it until cake.”
“We need to. I didn’t get my turn.”
“Your turn for what?” Jasper asks.
“You all said these amazing things and I need to reciprocate.”
“Reciprocate? You don’t need to reciprocate.” Jasper’s voice is gentle. “You need to revel in it.”
I start to protest, but then I feel an arm on my back and Scarlett’s hand holds out a piece of cake. Claire’s arm slips around my back on the other side, holding one for Jasper. He takes both, balancing them on one hand as Hannah and Lou join our little circle. Paul and Will squeeze in behind Lou and she raises her fork. “Bea, if you’ll do the honors.”
Jasper hands me my plate and I poise my fork above the cake. I make sure to meet everyone’s eyes as I speak. “Before I do, I want to say this has been the best summer I’ve ever had and thank you. I love it here. I love you. And I love every single calorie in this cake.”
Everyone laughs and we plunge our forks into the rich chocolate. I take a bite and as the chocolate melts on my tongue and I look at the smiles around me, arms of friends around my waist, the man I love across from me, I do exactly what Jasper says.
I revel in it.
Thank You!
Thank you for reading A BRIT ON THE SIDE! Want more Bea and Jasper? I’ve got a free epilogue for you and you can sign up to get it here. It’s a little bit steamy and a little bit sweet and I hope you love it.
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Swimming To Tokyo
The rules for swimming are simple:
Rule #1: There is no lifeguard on duty.
Since her mom died three years ago, nineteen-year-old Zosia Easton’s been treading water. Living at home. Community college. Same old Saturday nights. So when her
father breaks the news he’s taken a job transfer—and by the way, it means renting out the house that’s been her refuge—a summer in Tokyo feels like it just might be a chance to start swimming again.
Rule #2: Beware of unexpected currents.
Finn O’Leary has spent God knows how many years trying to drown out his past. Juvenile detention. Bad decisions. Worse choices. He’s managed to turn it around – MIT, Dean’s List, a sexier-than-thou body with a smile to match – at least on the surface. When his mom asks him to spend the summer with her, Tokyo seems as good a place as any to float through the summer.
Rule #3: Swim at your own risk.
Lies We Live
Ella Ingraham is a best-selling novelist. She's also a murderer. At least that's what most of the world thinks after her ex brought a tabloid frenzy and a civil suit down on her for "negligence" following the stillbirth of their unplanned child at eight months. Her cross-country drive is meant to be an escape, and Horatio, AR is just another random exit off the highway. Until she meets Josh Devereaux.
Josh Devereaux – seductive, charming and hot, hot, hot – is a part-time farmer, full-time tech genius holed up in his hometown after a few years in New York turned him into someone else. Someone worse. His closetful of skeletons has been locked up tight since he returned to Arkansas, right along with his heart. He knows Ella could unlock both – and what a bad idea that would be.
Ella has no intention of getting involved with Josh, but as one date turns into more, feelings surface Ella hasn't felt in years -- like hope. As their relationship grows, Josh knows he should tell Ella the truth about his past. If only the lie wasn't so much easier to believe.
A Brit on the Side (Castle Calder Book 1) Page 24
