Chapter 4
Chapter Four
NATALIE
Jasper Everton was a dickhead.
Seven years could really change a person. The Jasper I knew would never have walked away from me like that.
Then again, maybe I deserved it.
The warm, fragrant breeze carried the scent of apple blossoms, dredging up bittersweet memories of endless summers spent exploring those orchards with Jasper and his siblings. A lifetime ago, when things had been simpler. When Jasper and I were?—
"Penny for your thoughts?"
I started at the sound of Liam's voice behind me. Forcing a smile, I turned to face him. "Hey. I was just... taking in the view."
He slid an arm around my waist, and I stiffened involuntarily. If he noticed, he didn't let on. "It's pretty out here. Peaceful."
"Yeah. It is. "
"Babe, are you okay? You seem kinda off."
I wasn't sure if it was the fact that Jasper clearly hated me or that Liam was driving me crazy, but I snapped.
"Of course I'm fucking off, Liam! My dad is dead!"
"Nat, I'm sorry. I didn't mean?—"
"I just needed a little space, okay?"
"Yeah, sure." He nodded and pressed a kiss to my temple. "I'll be inside if you need me."
Liam wasn't a bad person. In fact, he was rather sweet. But it didn't change the fact that I didn't love him, and I never would. I knew I should end things with him. He was just another man in a long line of distractions, helping me avoid the one thing I knew with absolute certainty.
I had ruined any chance I'd had with the man who was made for me.
The cold detachment in Jasper's eyes cut me to the core. But what had I expected? After all, I was the one who'd left.
I wrapped my arms around myself, as if that would somehow hold together all the broken pieces inside me. God, I'm a mess.
I was just beginning to feel safe in my solitude when I heard my name from behind me.
"Natalie!" The high-pitched voice grated against my ears. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
Sammy Thompson was as beautiful as ever.
My polite smile felt more like a grimace. "Thank you, Sammy."
Seven years had passed, yet she looked exactly the same as she had in high school. Her golden hair cascaded in perfect waves, framing her flawlessly made-up face. All that was missing was the cheerleading uniform.
Some things never change.
"It's been so long," Sammy cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "How have you been?"
"I've been?—"
"Oh, sweetie, I'm sure it's been just awful for you. Living in the big city, all alone. But I suppose it was for the best that you left when you did." Sammy's eyes glittered with malicious glee. "After all, if you hadn't run off, Jasper might never have discovered his true feelings."
The implication hit me like a punch to the gut. Jasper and Sammy? Together?
No. No, no, no.
"What do you mean?" I choked out, hating how weak my voice sounded.
Sammy's smile widened, shark-like. "Oh, you know how these things go." She paused and examined her perfectly manicured nails. "I was there to pick up the pieces when you broke his heart. And, well, one thing led to another."
My head spun. The scents of the orchard, so comforting moments ago, now made me want to vomit. I struggled to draw a full breath, my chest constricting painfully.
"Anyway," Sammy continued, clearly relishing my discomfort, "I just wanted to thank you. Your absence was truly a gift. Jasper and I are quite happy."
"Delighted for you," I forced out, a chilly calm settling in.
Sammy leaned in even closer, faux-concern creasing her forehead. "Just remember, Natalie, everything happens for a reason. Sometimes the past is better left where it belongs."
She turned and sashayed away, leaving me reeling.
This can't be happening.
I took a deep breath. Jasper and Sammy were the least of my problems. I was at my father's wake, after all.
I waited for my heart to stop racing then turned back to head into the house.
But my hand froze on the brass handle as Jasper's voice drifted through the gap in the French doors.
"You did what you had to do. The irrigation lines weren't going to pay for themselves."
Irrigation lines? That was a fifty-thousand-dollar project, minimum. The accountant in me automatically started running calculations—depreciation schedules, tax implications, cash flow projections. Even now, I couldn't turn off the part of my brain that organized the world into neat columns of numbers. Like Dad always said, numbers are easy. Numbers are safe. People, on the other hand...
I watched Jasper's reflection lean against the hallway wall. Even through the wavy glass, I could see his shoulders were tight with tension.
Elliot stood before him, arms crossed. His posture radiated that aura of older-brotherly concern that used to make me feel so safe, back when I had any right to consider myself part of the family.
"I know," he said. "I just hate what we had to do to get the money."
My fingers twitched, itching to grab my phone and pull up the orchard's financial statements. Dad would've known exactly how to structure this, how to make the numbers dance. The ache of loss behind my ribs threatened to overwhelm me.
"We didn't have a choice," Jasper growled. "The old system was failing. One more dry season and we'd have lost half the southeast quadrant."
I bit my lip. The southeast quadrant—that was where the heritage trees were, the ones Jay's grandfather planted. Those trees were the heart of Ever Eden. No wonder Jasper pushed through such an expensive upgrade.
"Don't tell Mom," Elliot said. "She'll lose it."
Jasper rubbed the back of his neck. I recognized the movement. His stressed mannerisms hadn't changed. "She's going to find out eventually. Better it comes from you."
I pushed through the heavy door. The ancient hinges protested with a long creak that made both brothers snap their heads toward me. Jasper's eyes locked onto mine, and that cold detachment from earlier had shifted to a blazing intensity scorching across the space between us. The heat of his gaze made my skin buzz.
I hurried past them, weaving between clusters of black-clad mourners. The hallway felt endless, packed with too many sympathetic faces and outstretched hands wanting to pat my shoulder or pull me into suffocating hugs. Where is Mom? I couldn't handle one more 'sorry for your loss' right now.
"Natalie." Jasper's deep, commanding voice rang out behind me .
My steps faltered. Keep walking. Don't turn around. Don't let him see how much it still affects me when he says my name like that.
But my body wouldn't cooperate. It knew what it wanted, and it was done listening to my stupid brain. My muscles tensed, and I froze in place. The sound of his footsteps grew closer and closer until I could feel the heat radiating off him just inches away.
I spotted Mom standing near the stone fireplace. Liam hovered beside her while Emma and Jay flanked them like protective sentries.
The sight of my mother snapped me back to reality, and I hurried across the room, putting distance between me and Jasper's pursuing footsteps. Emma's face brightened at my approach. She opened her arms and engulfed me in a warm hug that smelled of cinnamon and fresh-baked apples. It reminded me of countless childhood afternoons spent perched on her kitchen counter, sneaking bits of cinnamoned apples while she pretended not to notice.
"Hi, sweet girl," she murmured against my hair. "We've missed you so much."
The lump in my throat swelled. Jay stepped forward next, wrapping me in strong arms that felt so much like Dad's that tears sprang to my eyes. His familiar Old Spice cologne mingled with engine grease and earth—the smell of safety, of home.
"Your father was one of the good ones." Jay's gruff voice rumbled against my temple.
Jasper had given up his pursuit, taking up a spot in the corner of the room with a brooding Elliot and a grinning Chase. His eyes were still on me, though.
I let Liam put his arm around me, the fabric of his suit scratching against my cheek. So different from the soft, worn flannel that used to warm my skin on chilly nights. His scent was a blend of sandalwood and something musky. Expensive but somehow artificial. He smelled like the city.
"You holding up okay?" His voice held genuine concern as he squeezed my shoulder.
"I'm fine," I lied, plastering on another fake smile. I wondered how long I could keep this up before my face cracked.
His arm settled more firmly around me. The gesture was meant to comfort, but his touch felt like a straitjacket.
Jasper's gaze burned into me from across the room, setting my nerve endings crackling with awareness. Stop looking at him. Stop remembering how his calloused hands felt sliding under your shirt, how his lips tasted like apple cider and temptation.
"Would you like something to drink?" Liam asked.
I shook my head, pressing closer into his side, resisting the magnetic pull from Jasper's corner. Liam's heart beat steady and predictable under my ear—nothing like the wild thunder that used to pound through Jasper's chest when I'd curl against him.
What am I doing? The thought hit like a physical blow. I'm standing at my father's wake, comparing my current boyfriend to my ex.
A fresh wave of grief and guilt crashed over me. My fingers dug into Liam's suit coat, seeking an anchor, but I was distracted by the rough texture and how wrong it felt against my skin.
"How's city life treating you both?" Emma's warm tone held genuine interest, but there was something else beneath it.
Liam launched into a long speech about our Chicago life. His hand cut through the air, sketching invisible blueprints of the luxury condo he'd already picked out for us. His description was polished and glossy, like he was delivering a sales pitch. An insane part of my brain was waiting for him to hand out brochures and produce a meticulously detailed PowerPoint.
"The building has amazing amenities—private gym, rooftop garden. And the location is perfect, just three blocks from Nat's office." He talked about my future like it was set in stone, each word another brick in a wall I never agreed to build. "We're thinking of moving in together this summer after our leases are up, aren't we, babe?"
My smile felt frozen, muscles straining to maintain the polite expression as Liam rambled about square footage and crown molding. My hand drifted to the hem of my black dress, worrying the soft fabric between thumb and forefinger. Emma's knowing gaze tracked the movement. She'd seen me do this a thousand times, usually right before I'd confessed to sneaking in through the second-story window to sleep in Jasper's bed.
"The master bath has this incredible soaking tub," Liam continued, gesturing enthusiastically. "And the walk-in closet is practically the size of your current bedroom, Nat."
The fabric wrinkled between my fingers, creating tiny pleats that matched the growing knots in my stomach. When did I become a passenger in my own life?
Emma caught my eye. She was looking at me with that same maternal concern that used to make me spill all my secrets. She could already see that I was suffocating in this perfect life Liam was building around me.
A deep chuckle from across the room drew my attention. Jasper threw his head back in genuine laughter at something Chase had said. The sound wrapped around me like a warm blanket. All at once, I was a teenager again, sprawled in the bed of his pickup truck under a star-filled sky.
"The view from the master bedroom is incredible," Liam gushed. "You can see the whole city skyline."
Mom's hand pressed against my back. The familiar, soothing touch steadied my trembling muscles.
Emma and Jay shared that look—the same one they'd exchanged during those explosive teenage fights that would send Jasper storming out to the orchard and me to the kitchen to cry on Emma's shoulder. Hot discomfort squirmed in my stomach. I wondered if I was this transparent to everyone or just to people who had known me since I was in diapers. This was why I'd been dreading coming back here. You couldn't hide from people who had known you all your life.
"And of course," Liam continued, "once we're settled, we can start thinking about the next step. "
My eyes widened. Oh god, please don't let him be talking about what I think he's talking about.
"Excuse me," I murmured, extracting myself from his grip. "I just need a minute."
I elbowed my way through the crowd, jostling people aside as I fled toward the kitchen door. Behind me, I heard the low rumble of Jasper's voice asking someone to "give her space."
Even after all this time, he knows exactly what I need.