Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Jasper
The whiskey bottle in front of me had been my plan to get my mind off Beulah. With each glass, things became clearer. Though now I’d downed half a fifth and knew I was drunk and that I should go to bed. But I didn’t. I waited. For her. I had to see Beulah and explain about this morning. About how fucking scared I’d been.
Stone left, yet again, after we argued. He said he’d be back in a week. He had his own shit to deal with. Which, of course, I understood. Stone was running from his father and the department store chain in malls all over the goddamn country that would one day be his. Stone hated the man who would one day make Stone CEO and hand his fortune over. But he didn’t want it. He wanted nothing from his father. Just last month, Stone talked about joining the rodeo circuit and leaving. A complete crock of shit. Hilarious, but a crock of shit. Our homes lives had been a nightmare growing up but his had been worse. My father had never beat me. But neither of us was mounting some crazy ass bull and getting stomped and pummeled into fucking oblivion. In a month, he’d be crippled or dead. Nope, no rodeo for Stone.
I was more intoxicated than I previously assumed, or so lost in thought I wasn’t listening when Beulah entered the room.
“Jasper?” her voice was unsure.
“You’re back. Have a good visit?”
She hesitated. Her eyes glanced from me to the whiskey bottle. I sat there with my glass rim full. “Yes, it was nice,” she replied. “They enjoyed the other treats you told me to take.”
How could I have Beulah without hurting her? Could I even do it? She was too damn perfect and innocent. I was scared I would fail and mess things up. What if she saw me for who I was and left me? How could, would I survive? Fuck, what if I fell in love with her? Was I even capable of it?
“Shit,” I muttered.
“What?”
I sat my glass down and laid my head back, tightly closing my eyes. Not looking at her was the best idea. Not facing this while admitting my paranoia was easier if I didn’t see that face. I’d remained awake to tell Beulah the truth. I had to explain.
“Do you know why I ran out this morning?” I asked. I doubted it, but I thought I’d see where her head was with this…us.
“No,” was her uneasy response. I was making her nervous.
“I left because I was fucking terrified,” I admitted with my eyes still closed.
She didn’t say anything. I heard her shuffle her feet. “You scare me. I’ve never been afraid before. Not about women, but you, Beulah Edwards, scare the fuck out of me.” There. The blunt truth. She needed to hear it.
“Oh,” she replied, her voice soft. I almost laughed. That one word was her response. An “oh” when she had every reason to be just as terrified.
“I don’t fall in love. That’s not my thing. I had parents who hated each other. I figured they must’ve been in love once. And look what it did to them? I could be just like my dad and fall in love with someone as fucking heartless and cold as my mother. I stayed clear of having feelings for a girl and that worked. . .until I met you. And you didn’t even try. You were yourself, not pretending to be something you weren’t, and it took a fucking half a bottle of whiskey for me to face the fact I’ve fallen in love with you,” I said, opening my eyes and looking directly at her. “You’re the type of different, that special brand that breaks a man and makes him want more. Makes him want a life he thought he’d never have. Until you, I never wanted to love someone, but. . .I want to love you. I think I’ve waited my entire life to love you.”
Her eyes were huge, mouth slightly opened, in surprise or shock or both. Hell, join the club. I was equally floored by this turn of events. It looked as if she was barely breathing. If she ran from me, not wanting this, I’d be gutted. She held that power over me without even trying.
“Me?” she finally responded, barely above a whisper.
There it was again. That thing that made her different. If I’d told this to any other girl I’d dated, she would’ve sunk her claws in deep. Had me make promises. But Beulah just stood there, wondering if I meant what I was saying and if I was saying it to her, though we were alone in the damn room.
“Yes. You. You have fucked me up. All that sweet, that face, those eyes that draw me in. They’re the fucking clearest green I’ve ever seen. I’ve laid in bed trying to think of something to compare them to. But nothing comes to me. Nothing is worthy of those eyes.”
She blinked and touched her temples with her fingers, then rubbed her forehead and face with both hands, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you drunk? Is this. . .”
I laughed. Beulah made me laugh a lot—something I hadn’t realized I had needed so desperately until her. I wanted to be close to her for many reasons, not just because I wanted to touch her so fucking bad I ached. Beulah made me happy. I’d been pretending so damn long I forgot what real happiness felt like. Even when life sucked, she managed to find joy in the crevasses. That was hard, exceptionally difficult.
“Yes, I’m drunk. . .but everything I just said is why I’m drunk to begin with. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting to be near you. I gave you a job in my office so you’d be close to me all day. Even when I acted like a dick, it was because I was attracted to you and didn’t want to be. Then I got to know you and found it was more than your beautiful face and body. It was you. That fucking glow inside of you. Both your inside and your outside captivated me, Beulah. You’re so perfect I couldn’t make you up.” If I was sober, would I be streaming through these great explanations? I highly doubted that. I’d be so damn nervous I wouldn’t say half the shit coming out of my mouth. Though I meant it. Every fucking word. With alcohol guiding, everything flowed forth like undammed water in a river. I was torched, the whiskey bottle had me saying things I never thought I’d say.
Still, Beulah hadn’t budged. I got up and walked over to stand in front of her. Close enough that I could feel her warmth without touching her, she tilted her head back. Looked at me and replied, “I think…that I love you. But. . .we shouldn’t say that. Those words. When you’re sober, you’ll realize that. This,” Beulah scanned the room, “couldn’t work. I’m not someone who can live in your world.”
I didn’t care about that shit. There was only one world and she was quickly becoming mine. If life gives you a Beulah. . . how do you walk away from that? I didn’t want to be my dad. I didn’t want his unhappy life. I wanted a life with sunshine in it —and Beulah was my sunshine. “Let me show you I can make this work. Please, Beulah, I can’t let you slip through my fingers. There is only one you and I will do everything you ask. Whatever you want.”
Beulah blinked, her eyes glistening. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m afraid to believe it. When you wake up tomorrow, you’re going to regret that you said all this to me. It’ll be awkward. . .I need this job. . .both jobs. . .you know that.”
I slid my hand around her waist, gently bringing her to me. “I won’t change my mind. And I sure as hell won’t regret this. Let me hold you tonight. When you wake up in my arms, you’ll know it’s going to be okay. We found each other for a reason. It was fate. It’s supposed to be. We’re. . . supposed to be.”
Beulah was stiff, but she slowly eased and relaxed as I spoke. Her body molded against mine. “I think fate sometimes can be cruel,” she whispered against my chest.
“I won’t let fate hurt you. I swear. It won’t come between us.”