Chapter 30 #2
“I’ve solved all your problems,” he says simply, like that explains anything. When I don’t say anything, he continues. “I’ve informed everyone inside that Chesney has explosive food poisoning.”
I stare blankly at him. “You what?”
“They’re terrified. I mean, what if it’s from the food in there?”
Jasper barks out a laugh. “Wade. You did not.”
“What? Nobody’s gonna bother him now.”
I can’t help it. I laugh too, half horrified, half grateful. “You’re unbelievable.”
Wade shrugs, then grins. “So I’ve been told.” He claps me on the shoulder, then squeezes. “Come back in whenever you’re ready. Take your time, man. There’s no rush.”
Once he’s gone, Jasper shakes his head. “I can’t decide if he’s a genius or an idiot.”
“Probably both,” I say with a small chuckle.
“You okay?”
Glancing over, I meet Jasper’s gaze. “No.” Honesty feels easy with him. It always has. The tightness in my chest eases a little. “But I can breathe again.”
He nods, understanding passing between his eyes.
“That’s enough for today.” Then Jasper leans in and presses his lips to my forehead.
He holds it for a moment, breathing me in, before pulling away.
“I can stand here with you,” he says. “Or I can go back inside and give you a moment to yourself. Whatever you need.”
I don’t have to think about it. “Stay.”
It’s nearly dark when someone knocks on the front door. I’m in the middle of washing dishes, so Truett answers.
“Jasper.”
Glancing over at the sound of his name, I find him standing on the porch holding a casserole dish.
“I come bearing carbohydrates.”
Truett smiles tiredly and steps aside. “You may enter.”
“I also brought fresh bread,” Jasper adds. “Made it myself an hour ago.”
“Oh, you can definitely enter,” my brother says, swiping the loaf-shaped foil from him as he walks inside.
An hour later, the three of us have somehow eaten half the casserole. Mostly because we haven’t eaten hardly anything for the last few days.
Eventually, Truett yawns and stands. “I’m hitting the sack.” Pointing at us, he adds, “Don’t stay up too late.”
“No promises,” Jasper teases.
After Truett disappears upstairs, the weight of today settles in my chest. It was a great turnout, but it was…
a lot. I’m exhausted, like a bone-deep exhaustion, but I don’t think I could sleep right now even if I tried.
A moment later, Jasper starts gathering the empty plates and silverware from the table.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“I know I don’t.” He carries them to the sink anyway, and I join him without really thinking.
We work side by side, Jasper washing the dishes and me drying them. Every once in a while, our shoulders brush, and each time, it’s electric. But also, comforting.
“Thank you,” I say once we’re finished and everything is put away.
He turns to me, resting his hip on the edge of the counter. “For what?”
“For today.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “For showing up. For staying. For making me laugh when I forgot how.”
Jasper’s expression softens as he holds my gaze. “You never have to thank me for that.”
“Well, I’m going to anyway.” The kitchen grows quiet. My heart beats a little faster as I step closer. “I don’t think you realize how much you’ve helped me get through this just by being here.”
Jasper swallows hard before he closes the distance between us. He slips his hand into mine, the touch warm, calloused, and unbelievably grounding, as his eyes search mine, giving me every chance to change my mind or move away.
I don’t.
My free hand slides around the back of his neck, fingers brushing through the thick, blond strands at his nape.
Jasper sighs contently and squeezes my palm.
My pulse is pounding a million miles an hour, but my chest, for the first time in days, is light and warm.
Everything about this feels right. Everything about Jasper feels right.
He’s here, once again showing me it’s okay to lean on him.
I lean in, pressing my mouth to his. Goosebumps scatter across my skin as Jasper tilts his head and parts his lips, sliding his arm around my waist. As my tongue rolls against his and my body warms, I realize how much I not only want Jasper, but need him.
And not just physically. That’s not what this is tonight.
This is a kiss that’s gentle and unhurried, not desperate or driven by grief.
It’s two people finding a moment of peace after a day that held almost none.
It’s the kind that leaves you breathless. The kind that has zero expectations.
When we finally break apart, Jasper rests his forehead against mine. “How are you feeling?”
I give myself a moment to really think about it. “I’m tired,” I say honestly, with a small smile. “But…less alone.”
“Good.” Jasper’s hand finds mine again. “I can stay for a little while.”
My throat tightens, and I feel my appreciation pressing against the backs of my eyes. “Maybe all night?”
He breathes out a small chuckle, then nods. “All night, it is.”
After making sure the house is locked up, we make our way up the stairs and down the hall toward my bedroom.
I don’t bother turning on the light; the moonlight spilling in through the curtains is enough.
We undress down to our briefs, then Jasper climbs into bed first, and I follow.
His arm wraps around me as I rest my head on his chest. We don’t talk much.
But we don’t have to; feeling his body against mine is enough.
For the first time since my dad took his last breath, the silence in this house doesn’t feel empty.