Chapter 18 #2
More importantly, I knew exactly one man capable of making Georgie sound like that.
No.
There was no way. I took another step down the stairs. Then I saw him. Jasper stood on Granny’s front porch wearing a tuxedo. For one absurd second, that was the only detail my brain could manage.
A tuxedo.
Jasper.
At my house.
Black jacket, crisp white shirt. Black bow tie. His dark hair swept back from his face. And those blue eyes were fixed entirely on me.
He held a clear container in one hand with a corsage tucked inside, but I barely noticed it.
He was here.
Nebraska was fifteen hundred miles away, and somehow Jasper Francis Alexander DuBois was standing on my front porch dressed for my prom.
For me.
His lips parted.
Nothing came out.
His gaze moved over me slowly—not in a way that made me want to cover myself, but as if he needed to make sure what he was seeing was real.
Then his eyes returned to mine.
“Mon Dieu.”
Two quiet words.
My knees nearly gave out.
Georgie recovered before I did.
“Romeo, what are you doing here? You can’t just show up—”
“Georgie.” Granny didn’t raise her voice; she didn’t have to. He turned. “Step aside.”
“Granny, he can’t—”
“I said step aside.”
Georgie stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”
Granny walked into the hallway with the calm expression of a woman who had already fought this battle and had no intention of fighting it twice.
“I am still this girl’s mother. Mr. DuBois asked for my permission, and I granted it. Now you’re going to step aside and let Fiona make her own choice.”
My eyes snapped to Jasper.
He’d asked Granny?
Georgie looked between the two of them. “You knew about this?”
“I did,” Granny answered.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“It wasn’t your business to know.”
Georgie’s jaw tightened. For one terrible second, I thought he might refuse. Then he moved and Jasper stepped inside.
His eyes never left me.
The room felt strangely quiet as he crossed the distance between us. The usual confidence was there in the way he moved, but something about his expression was different.
Almost uncertain.
I had never seen Jasper uncertain.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“Fiona.”
My name sounded different in his voice tonight.
“You look—” He stopped and shook his head once before switching into French. “Ma Belle, t’es la réponse à une prière que j’ai jamais été assez bon pour faire.”
I stared at him.
Georgie’s head snapped around. “What the hell did you just say?”
Sugar’s lips twitched. “He said, ‘My beautiful girl, you’re the answer to a prayer I was never good enough to pray’.”
My heart forgot what it was supposed to be doing.
Georgie made a disgusted sound. “That’s—”
“Nope.” Josie pointed at him. “You’re done, Georgie. One more word of objection and you’re sleeping at the clubhouse tonight instead of going home to your wife. I’m serious.”
His mouth opened.
Closed.
He glared at her, then at Jasper.
And somehow managed to remain silent.
I descended the last few stairs. Up close, Jasper was almost unfair. The tuxedo fit his shoulders perfectly, and the clean white shirt made his skin look darker. I caught the familiar scent of him when I stopped in front of him, cedar mixed with something I’d never been able to name.
But it was his face I couldn’t stop looking at.
Not because he was beautiful. Though, God help me, he was.
Because he looked nervous.
Jasper, who could flirt with anyone.
Jasper, who had an answer for everything.
Jasper, who’d driven halfway across the country in a tuxedo, was looking at me as though my next words actually mattered.
He opened the container. White roses rested against silver ribbon.
“May I?” he asked.
I held out my wrist. His fingers were warm as he slid the corsage into place. His thumb brushed lightly across the inside of my wrist before he let me go. The tiny touch left more behind than it should have.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
His brow furrowed. “For what?”
I looked at him. “For coming.”
Something changed in his expression. His smile this time wasn’t Romeo’s. It wasn’t polished or flirtatious or designed to make women fall at his feet.
It was Jasper.
“Ma Belle, I’d drive across the entire country just to see you smile. Distance is a minor inconvenience when it comes to you.”
I remembered teasing him with those exact words weeks ago. Apparently, he remembered too.
Of course he did.
He offered me his arm.
“Ready?”
I looked behind me. Granny was smiling. Josie looked so pleased with herself I knew she’d been involved in every detail. Sugar winked. Even Jasmine seemed enchanted by the whole thing.
Then there was Georgie.
He stood with his arms crossed, his expression caught somewhere between resignation and the desire to commit murder.
“Be careful,” he said quietly.
I wasn’t entirely sure which one of us he meant. Maybe both.
Jasper waited. He didn’t reach for me. Didn’t tell me it was time to go. He simply stood there with his arm offered and let me decide.
A few months ago, that detail might’ve escaped me.
It didn’t now.
I slipped my hand through his arm. “Ready.”
His smile returned.
We walked outside together.
Only when Jasper opened the passenger door of Sugar’s car did I realize she’d apparently surrendered her vehicle for the night too. I laughed under my breath as he helped me inside.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
His eyes narrowed. “Fiona.”
I smiled.
“Just realizing how many people were apparently conspiring behind my back.”
“You’re surrounded by criminals.”
“Sugar owns an ice-cream shop.”
“Perfect cover.”
I laughed again as he closed the door and watched him walk around the front of the car.
This morning, I’d been prepared to spend the night hiding at home because nobody had asked me to prom.
Now Jasper was sliding into the driver’s seat beside me after crossing half the country just to take me.
The difference should’ve felt unbelievable.
Instead, as he started the car and glanced over at me, it felt strangely simple.
For weeks, I’d been searching his texts for proof that I mattered to him. Picking apart every word. Wondering what Cher meant, what Ma Belle meant, what flowers meant, what every carefully avoided answer meant.
Tonight, there was nothing to decode.
He’d shown up.
And maybe that was the answer I’d been looking for all along.