Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
S he’d manifested a good day today. It was supposed to be a good day. There’d been no nightmares last night. No embarrassing visits from Jesse. The blueberry jam and clotted cream on top of her scone at The Tea House was amazing. It had started so good.
But that good day had ended the second she’d pulled out her laptop.
She chopped the carrots with a bit more aggression.
There’d been no words written…again. Even bad words hadn’t made it onto the page today.
She used to have so many ideas. Love stories and meet-cutes and funny little conversation starters…they’d all crowded her head, and she’d turned them into stories. Good stories.
What happened? Was she out of ideas? Would she never finish a book again?
The bad didn’t end there though. She’d dropped and broken one of Mrs. Gerald’s gorgeous teacups. She’d received half a dozen not-so-nice texts from her mother about the cost of mailing the things Aspen didn’t want sent anyway. And the second she’d gotten home and taken off her shoes, she’d stubbed her toe. And, holy Hannah, did it hurt.
Now, all she wanted to do was make dinner…but she’d forgotten the pasta for her pasta casserole, which was kind of important.
The door opened and she didn’t even look up. It would be Jesse. Perfect Jesse. Yesterday, he’d literally made her breakfast and a steaming-hot cup of coffee. Good coffee. It was like he’d known how much she needed it after the night she’d had. She’d wanted to fall at his feet and kiss them, she’d been so grateful. It was like he could do no wrong.
And he hadn’t brought up the nightmare again. In fact, he was acting like it never happened…for which she was grateful.
“What did those carrots do to you?”
Her traitorous heart set off in a gallop at his deep, sexy voice. “I forgot the pasta for my pasta casserole and didn’t want to walk back to the grocery store.” Didn’t really answer his question, but it was connected.
“I see. And is that the carrots’ fault?”
“If I said yes, would you believe me?” Another far too aggressive chop of the carrot.
Suddenly he was right beside her, his hand covering hers, stilling her movements.
She sucked in a quick breath, her gaze stuck on his large hand on hers. When he touched her, it was like every other thought just dropped out of her head.
“You didn’t get any words written today?” he asked gently.
She looked up. Mistake. Big mistake. His eyes were too close and too beautiful. “None.”
Sympathy darkened his eyes as he removed his touch. Her skin suddenly felt cold. “Is that all that happened?”
How did he know? Was he really good at reading her, or was it just written all over her face? “My mother was messaging me.”
“Okay, and what did she say?”
“Yesterday she called and insisted on sending me some of my stuff that I left at her place. Stuff that I don’t want back. Stuff that I told her she could keep or throw away. But Karen Davies doesn’t want to do that, because she doesn’t like to respect other people’s wishes. She knows best. So I gave her this address so she could mail the things I didn’t need sent.”
“What happened next?”
“Texts. Millions of texts, all in the span of an hour.” Her words sped up. “It took her all morning, apparently. Hours to go through her house and make sure I hadn’t left anything else there. Then it took her more time to take the stuff to the post office and package everything up. Oh, and it cost her a small fortune—her words, not mine. And when I reminded her that I did not need or want her to send any of it… Now I’m ungrateful. I’m irresponsible for leaving it all at her place. I’m also conniving, because I left the stuff there on purpose because I wanted to ruin her day and make her go broke. I’m one big—”
Jesse gripped her wrist. The wrist attached to the hand she hadn’t realized was waving around the big kitchen knife. “I think I should take that.” He slipped the knife from her fingers.
“I’m sorry.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “It’s just been a frustrating day. She sent barrages of texts, and then she called and started verbally abusing me. I dropped Mrs. Gerald’s teacup. Dylan also tried to call—”
“Dylan tried to call you?” Jesse’s tone deepened, an edge to his voice.
“Yep. I swear he’s the mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“What did he want?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t answer. I never answer. Then I blocked his number.”
She’d come to Amber Ridge to escape it all, but her past just wouldn’t leave her alone.
Jesse’s frown was deep, anger darkening his eyes before he seemed to visibly force it down. “Come to the bar with me tonight.”
She straightened. “What?”
“I’m meeting my brother and sister. Join us. Have a night off from everything.”
Go to the bar? With Jesse? All six foot four of him and his dimples? “I don’t know. I had a pretty great night planned. It involved pasta casserole but without the pasta and some Jerry Springer reruns.”
His lips twitched. “We can still finish the pasta-less casserole before we go, and Jerry Springer will still be here if the bar’s a dud. Although, I think you’ll have a good time. You haven’t met my family yet. My sister’s pretty awesome, and my brother will talk shit about me all night. You don’t want to miss an opportunity like that.”
She bit her bottom lip, and Jesse’s gaze immediately lowered to her mouth. Air halted in her lungs.
You’re not dating right now, Aspen. Look away. Look the heck away from the gorgeous man.
“The bar sounds good.” Dammit, she sounded croaky. “I’ll finish this and get changed.”
She swung around and her elbow hit the cutting board which sent the carrots flying.
Jesse lunged for the board. He moved so quickly that she flinched. A big, thought-he-was-going-to-hit-her-even-though-she-knew-he-wouldn’t-do-that flinch. The kind of flinch someone only did if they’d experienced a man’s violence before.
Her heart stopped. Shit, shit, shit.
He frowned, looking at her so closely, it felt like he’d finally worked her out. “Aspen—”
“Actually, I might go get changed now. I need a shower.” With a hurried step, she backed away, almost slipping on a carrot. He reached for her, but she took another quick step back. “I’m okay. I’ll just go now.”
Then she turned and walked, almost ran, to the sanctuary of her bedroom.
Jesse got out of the car, watching as Aspen climbed out of the passenger seat. She’d barely said two words to him since she’d run out of the kitchen. Hell, he’d barely seen her. She’d come out of her room so late, she hadn’t eaten any of the casserole he’d finished.
He stepped beside her onto the sidewalk. “You sure you don’t want to grab some food before we go in?”
“I’m okay.”
He sighed as they headed toward the door of CJ’s Bar.
His hand twitched to reach out and touch her. Put a palm on the small of her back. Or take her hand in his.
She wore high-rise jeans that hugged her curves and a tight black top that left nothing to the imagination. And her heels…fuck, they emphasized her sexy calves. How calves could be sexy, he had no idea. But hers were.
He fisted his hands as they stepped inside the bar. The smell of beer permeated the air, and the sounds of people talking and laughing were loud. The place was packed.
Aspen inched closer and, instinctively, he snaked an arm around her waist, grateful when she didn’t pull away. He wove through the crowd, keeping her flush against his side.
The second he spotted his brother and sister standing at a table, a grin tugged at his mouth. Clara was whacking Becket on the shoulder and appeared to be scolding him, while Becket looked really fucking pleased with himself.
It was nothing new. Their five-foot-nothing sister enjoyed putting each of them in their places, while Becket liked to get a reaction out of people.
“What did Becket do this time?” Jesse asked as they stopped at the table.
One side of Becket’s mouth lifted. “I said one innocent thing about my neighbor.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “His neighbor is an acupuncture client of mine, and he was being an ass.”
“Me? An ass?” Becket feigned disbelief.
“Yes, you,” Clara said with a little shove at Becket’s shoulder. His sister’s gaze shifted to Aspen, then to the arm Jesse still had around her waist. Interest lit Clara’s eyes. “Hi. You must be the new roommate we’ve been dying to meet. I’m Clara, the levelheaded sister of these two knuckleheads.”
Becket reached out a hand. “Becket, knucklehead number one.”
Aspen chuckled as she took his hand. “Aspen.”
Clara tilted her head. “You look familiar. Why?”
“You’ve probably seen me around town.” She inched to the side, and Jesse’s arm fell. Immediately, he wanted to tug her back.
“It’s not that,” Clara argued, squinting as if trying to figure out how she knew her.
“She’s a writer,” Jesse added, because he knew Aspen wouldn’t.
Clara straightened. “I read. What do you—” She stopped, eyes widening. “Wait, are you Aspen Davies, the romance author?”
A small smile curved Aspen’s lips. “I am.”
“Oh my gosh, I love your books! I was sick a while ago, and reading was the only thing that got me through. I’m pretty sure I devoured everything you had out.”
Jesse’s chest ached at the memory of Clara’s cancer, and he didn’t miss Becket’s fingers tightening around his beer.
His gaze immediately went to her glass. “What are you drinking?”
There was the smallest tensing in his sister’s shoulders. Most wouldn’t notice it. He did. She still suffered from chronic fatigue and alcohol made it worse.
“It’s called none of your business.” She looked back at Aspen. “Now, tell me, is my brother as overbearingly clean as he was growing up?”
Aspen leaned forward. “You could eat off his floor.”
Clara threw her head back and laughed.
“There’s nothing wrong with being clean.” Jesus, most woman would love to live with a tidy guy. “Becket’s clean too. It’s drilled into us in the military.”
Becket dipped his head. “It’s true. It’s just one of the reasons all the ladies love me.”
“All except Sky,” Clara said.
“Sky has issues.”
“Is Sky your girl—”
“No.” Becket cut Aspen off before she could finish. “She’s my neighbor. My frustrating, seems-to-be-irritated-by-my-very-existence neighbor.”
“She’s also cute as heck and doesn’t fall at Becket’s feet like he expects the female population to do,” Clara added.
Becket grabbed Clara playfully by the neck and scuffed her hair.
Jesus, could they not pretend to be normal for two seconds to meet a new person? He looked down at Aspen. “I’m sorry.”
For the first time since leaving the kitchen, she met his eye, an almost envious look in hers. “It’s sweet. I always wanted a sibling or two.”
“You can have both of mine. I’ve endured them long enough.”
A smile spread across her face.
He cleared his throat. “Aspen, in the kitchen—”
“Not tonight.” Her words came quickly, almost desperately. “Can we just have a night off everything?”
He wanted to push. To ask about that flinch. Find out if what he suspected was true.
Instead, he dipped his head. “Sure. I’ll get us a drink. Your usual amaretto sour?”
“Thanks.”
He turned to his sister. “Anything for you?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll come with you,” Becket said, straightening. “I’m almost out.”
Jesse and his brother headed back through the crowd.
“You know her usual?” Becket asked when they reached the bar.
“Yeah, we’re friends. We went to the bar together a few times in Misty Peak.”
Becket smirked. “You’re not friends. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”
The bartender stopped in front of them, a young woman with purple hair. “What can I get you guys?”
“An amaretto sour and two of any of your tap beers.”
“Sure.” One side of her mouth lifted as she gave both of them a quick once-over, obvious interest in her eyes.
When she turned away, Becket nudged him. “If you’re not interested in Aspen, you should give the bartender your number.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“We’re friends because Aspen wants to be friends.”
Becket almost looked like he was biting back a laugh. “You lost your charm or something?”
“She just got out of a bad relationship.”
Their drinks were set in front of them, and Jesse paid before turning back to his brother, his voice lowering, anger cutting through his words. “Today, I moved quickly to grab a chopping board that she knocked off the island, and she flinched.”
The humor left Becket’s eyes. “The fuck? You’re thinking the ex?”
“Probably. Asshole’s still contacting her even though she moved to the other side of the country. She had to block his number today.”
Becket’s fingers tightened on his bottle. They’d both been raised the same. To protect those around them, particularly the women in their lives. “Well, if he ever shows his face here in Amber Ridge—”
“He’ll wish he hadn’t.”