Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
JASPER
Marriage.
That word packed a punch.
Eloise stood at the base of the steps, looking at me with those striking blue eyes. They caught the afternoon light, making them shine as vibrant as the sky above our heads.
She was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a sweater with a mock turtleneck. She looked warm. Comfortable, yet stylish. Beautiful.
So goddamn beautiful.
There was some resemblance between Eloise and her older sisters. The long, dark hair. The pink lips and the shape of their mouths.
But Eloise had a youthful appearance that had nothing to do with the age gap between her and her siblings. It was just . . . her. She had effervescence. Energy. A spark that radiated from those pretty eyes.
My wife.
I groaned. “What a fucking mess.”
“My thoughts exactly,” she muttered, starting up the stairs. “Should we go inside?”
“Yeah.” It was cold out today. Winter had a grip on Montana and it showed no signs of loosening its hold. When I left Quincy, I wasn’t going to miss these brutal temperatures.
Though when my flight had landed this afternoon in Missoula, the weather hadn’t bothered me as much as I’d expected. Either I was getting used to the snow, or contemplating the stupidity of my actions had made me numb.
Eloise stopped beside me on the porch, glancing around to take it all in.
There were two levels to the A-frame. The porch stretched across the front. Above us, a balcony extended off the loft bedroom.
When I’d come to Montana in January, the owners had built up an impressive pile of chopped wood for the fireplace. The stacks had dwindled since I’d been here, but hopefully there was enough left to get me through my stay. The logs rested against the porch’s railing, bracketing the center stairs.
The A-frame wasn’t like most I’d seen before. There were no massive windows out front, filling the triangular frame. Instead, those windows were on the backside of the cabin, offering a view to the landscape.
The green tin roof blended with the surrounding trees. The wood-slat siding was the same color as the earthy forest floor. It would have been almost camouflaged except the front door had been painted a bold orange-red, the color of rusted metal.
That red shouldn’t have fit, not that gaudy of a color, but I couldn’t imagine that door being any other shade.
“Cute cabin,” Eloise said. “I’ve never been to this place before. I’ve seen some of the other Stewart properties but not this one. I like it.”
“How did you know where I was staying? You didn’t ask Talia, did you?” Shit. If Talia knew about us, then Foster knew. And that was not a conversation I was ready to have.
“No. God no.” Eloise shook her head. “Talia mentioned a while ago you’d rented a cabin from the Stewarts. Their other vacation rentals are in town.”
“Ah.”
“Small town.” She shrugged. “Privacy has a different meaning in Quincy.”
“I’m learning that.” Every time I went downtown to grab dinner or a pastry from Eden Coffee, someone would wave and call me by my name. Someone I hadn’t met before.
It was . . . odd. Not necessarily bad. Not exactly good either.
“That’s actually the reason I’m here.” She waved a hand to the front door. “Shall we?”
“Yeah.” I walked to the door, holding it open.
She breezed past me, her perfume wafting to my nose. Vanilla and spice. Floral undertones and a hint of smoke, like she’d been near a fireplace. The combination was subtle but alluring. It was the scent I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for three days.
“When did you get back?” she asked, her gaze roving around the interior.
“About fifteen minutes ago.” I’d hauled in my bag and immediately gone to light a fire. After it was lit, I’d headed outside on the porch, about to haul in more wood for later, when I’d heard tires crunching on gravel.
“Oh. Good.” She seemed relieved that I hadn’t been back long.
I jerked my chin for her to follow me through the cabin.
The kitchen sat at the front of the house, opposite a small dining nook. I headed for the living room, toward the open ceiling and large windows that overlooked the property. The fireplace crackled, its heat slowly chasing away the chill.
The cabin had baseboard heat, but I had a fire going whenever I was home.
Eloise spun in a circle, taking it all in, from the circular, iron staircase that led to the loft to the open bathroom door beside the laundry room.
The A-frame was small. Intimate. With the loft and another small bedroom, it offered me plenty of space.
It had been built in the seventies and had a vintage vibe. The walls were covered in tongue-and-groove boards. The honey color matched the massive beams that stretched from the floors to the peaked roof. The furniture was a mix of textured upholstery and leather, some pieces newer than others.
Nothing fancy. Everything comfortable. Just right for a guy who’d needed a rental for a couple months.
Montana was only a temporary stop.
Foster had moved up here permanently, but I’d only ever planned to stay long enough to train him through the fight. Then I’d either return to Vegas. Or find somewhere new. If Foster didn’t retire, I planned to travel. To bounce back and forth. If he hung it up, then I had options.
My place in Vegas was waiting. I’d return. Or I wouldn’t. But first . . . Eloise.
The silence between us stretched. She looked everywhere but at me.
What had happened to the woman who talked too much, who voiced every thought in her head? Maybe she was as lost for what to say as I was.
“Sorry.” That seemed like a good enough place to start.
“Things, um . . . they got a little out of hand on Saturday.” The color rose in her cheeks. “I’m sorry too.”
“It’s my fault.”
Three days of replaying every moment from Saturday and I still couldn’t figure out what exactly had happened.
But I remembered every second. From the fountain to the chapel.
The image of her—writhing beneath me with that hair spread out in silky strands across a white pillow, that mouth parted in ecstasy—was branded on my brain.
A surge of blood rushed to my groin. Damn it. That, too, had been a constant the past three days. It seemed I couldn’t think of Eloise and not get hard. I frowned, pissed at myself, and cast my gaze to the windows.
“You do want to get this annulled, though, right?” she asked.
“Yeah.” No question. “The sooner the better.”
“Phew. Thank God.” The air rushed from her lungs. “Just checking.”
Annulment was the only option. So why did her relief bother me so much?
I shook it off, facing her with my arms crossed over my chest. “I’ve got a good lawyer. I can reach out to him and get the process moving.”
“Okay. Obviously I’ve never done this before.”
I wished I could have said the same.
“Should I get a lawyer of my own?” she asked.
“If that would make you feel more comfortable.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking about it for a moment. “I’ll let you know.”
“’Kay.” I nodded. “Better give me your phone number.”
“Right.” She pulled her phone from her jeans pocket, waiting until I recited my number.
A moment later, my own dinged from where it sat on the kitchen island.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“No, uh, yes.” She gave me an exaggerated frown. “I have some things happening. Good things, I hope. But this was sort of, um . . . irresponsible. And it would be great if we could keep it a secret.”
“A secret.” It wasn’t like that hadn’t occurred to me too. But just like her relief, it burned.
“Yes, I really need this to be as quiet as possible. Especially from my family.”
“So you’re asking me not to tell Foster.”
“Exactly.” She sighed again, more of that irritating relief.
“To lie to my best friend.”
A flash of panic crossed her gaze before she clasped her hands together, shaking them as she pleaded, “Please, Jasper. My family will freak out about this. And my entire future hangs in the balance here.”
That was a bit melodramatic. Or it should have been, but there was nothing but sincerity on her face. And desperation. “We can’t hide this forever, Eloise.”
“Not forever. Just until it’s annulled. I’d rather tell people that we messed up and fixed it than have an audience while we’re in the process of unraveling a mess, you know?”
A muscle in my jaw flexed as my teeth clenched.
“So, is that a yes? You’ll keep it a secret?”
Fuck. I really hated lying. And not telling Foster felt like a lie by omission. But maybe she was right. Maybe it would be better to at least get the annulment started before announcing this marriage.
Unless we couldn’t get an annulment and this turned into a complete clusterfuck. I’d save that headache for another day.
“Fine,” I clipped.
“Thank you. Okay, uh . . .” Eloise pointed over her shoulder for the door. “I’ll get out of your way. I need to get back to work. And just call me, I guess, when you hear from your lawyer.”
My gaze dropped to her ass as she walked away, taking in her slender curves and the long line of those sexy-as-fuck legs.
My body’s reaction was instant. Heat flooded my veins. No good would come from me fantasizing about Eloise. Yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
She slipped out the door, the wide curls in her hair bouncing as she jogged down the stairs. The door to her car slammed closed, and moments later, the sound of her tires on the gravel disappeared, leaving me alone in silence.
“Marriage.” I chewed on the word and spit it out.
A secret marriage.
Foster was going to beat my ass for this.
We’d been friends for years. Best friends. We’d met when I’d started going to the gym where he’d trained in Vegas. The two of us had clicked instantly. He’d needed a stronger trainer, someone to push him beyond his limits. In turn, he’d challenged me too.
His career had given me a purpose. His wins were mine. So were his failures.
If he did retire, it would be the end of an era for us both. What next?
“I can’t do a damn thing until I get an annulment.” Or a divorce.