Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
JASPER
Weathered wood creaked beneath our feet as we strolled up the porch steps of my parents' house. Having Natalie there was strange and fucking perfect all at once. Strange because it had been years since she last crossed that threshold for family dinner, perfect because it felt like the most natural thing in the world. She belonged there beside me, fingers entwined with mine.
Always had.
She was my person when we were seventeen, and she was still my person.
There was nothing else to it.
I couldn't stop stealing sidelong glances at her. She was beautiful, all shapely curves and luminous skin, dark hair tumbling down her back in glossy waves. And the soft light of the golden hour made her face glow. But there was a pensive set to her mouth, a furrow between her brows that hadn't been there this morning when I kissed her awake in the grass.
Was it ill-advised to fall asleep half naked in the middle of the orchard? Sure was. Did I regret it? Not for a damn second.
Despite not having a bed or blankets or walls , it was the best rest I'd had in years. I could be absolutely anywhere on planet Earth with Natalie in my arms, and I'd be perfectly happy.
So why does she look so stressed?
"Hey." I tugged on her hand, pulling her to a stop before we reached the door. "You okay?"
She blinked up at me, hitching on an overly-bright smile. "Yeah, of course. Just a little nervous, I guess. It's been a while since I've attended an Everton family dinner. If I recall correctly, they can get a bit intense."
I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles, feeling the subtle tremor in her fingers. "They love you, Nat. Always have. And Mom's over the moon that you're joining us tonight. She's probably made enough food to feed an army."
Natalie's smile softened and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. "I've missed Emma's cooking. No one makes an apple pie quite like hers."
"That's because she puts all her love into it," a warm voice chimed in from behind us.
We turned to see my mom standing in the open doorway, her eyes suspiciously misty as she took in our joined hands. "Natalie, sweetheart. It's so good to see you."
And then she was pulling Nat into one of her patented Emma Everton hugs, the kind that engulfed you in cinnamon scented warmth and made everything feel okay, just for a moment.
Natalie immediately melted into the embrace and clung to Mom like a lifeline. Something in my chest clenched at the sight.
She'd been through so much lately. The least I could do was give her a few hours of normalcy, of family and laughter and my mom's famous apple pie.
"Alright, alright, stop hogging my girl." I said, nudging them gently apart. "I'm starting to feel neglected over here."
Mom swatted me on the arm. "Oh hush, you've had her all to yourself lately. It's my turn for some Natalie time."
I heaved an exaggerated sigh. Natalie laughed and looped her arm through Mom's. "Lead the way, Emma. I'm ready to be spoiled with your cooking and hear some embarrassing stories about Jasper that I missed while I was gone."
"Oh, honey, you've come to the right place," Mom said with a wicked smile. "Just last fall, he got his head stuck in the?—"
"Okay, that's enough!" I said. "Let's save the humiliating trip down memory lane for after dinner, yeah?"
Natalie just grinned at me over her shoulder as Mom ushered her into the house. I followed them inside, a stupid smile plastered to my face. It was an unusual expression for me these days. I hadn't felt this happy in years.
It felt amazing to have Nat there, to see her slipping back into her role as an extended member of this family. It was almost like she never left .
But when we sat down at the table and Chase entered the room, Natalie's eyes widened, and she turned toward me. His eye was still swollen and purple.
"He had it coming," I whispered, and her eyes glittered with appreciation.
The whole interaction reminded me that she had left and things were different now. But different didn't always mean bad.
Dinner was loud. Louder than usual. Marie was there too. I was half worried the old wood table might collapse under the weight of all of Mom's specialties—pot roast, cheesy potatoes, green beans casserole, grilled sweet corn on the cob, fluffy dinner rolls. And of course, the star of the show—a lattice-topped apple pie. It was still warm from the oven, the buttery crust sparkling with cinnamon-sugar.
"Emma, you've outdone yourself," Marie said, patting her mouth with a napkin. "I'm going to have to let out my dress after this feast!"
Mom waved off the compliment, but I saw the pleased flush on her cheeks. She loved nothing more than feeding the people she cared about. Having Natalie and Marie here tonight was the ultimate gift.
"Hear, hear," Dad chimed in, raising his bottle. "To Emma, the queen of the kitchen and the heart of this family."
We all lifted our glasses in a toast, the clink of glass mingling with the chorus of "To Emma!" that rang out around the table.
As the meal wound down and the conversation turned to reminiscing, I couldn't keep my eyes off Natalie. She was radiant in the candlelight, her cheeks pink from laughter and perhaps a bit too much of Dad's famous hard cider. Every so often, she'd catch my gaze and hold it, her lips curving into a secret smile that was just for me.
It felt like a beginning, like the start of something solid and real. The past was still there, lurking in the shadows. But for tonight, all that mattered was that she was there.
Of course, the spell couldn't last forever. We were just finishing up dessert when I noticed Chase watching Natalie with a little too much intensity. His eyes lingered on the graceful line of her neck as she tipped her head back and laughed at something Elliot said.
My hand tightened around my fork. I knew my brother, knew the way he was with women. The charm, the flirtation, the casual disregard for boundaries. It had never bothered me before—Chase was a grown man, and the women he pursued were more than capable of handling themselves.
But this was Natalie. My Natalie. And the reminder of him putting the moves on her set my teeth on edge and my blood to boiling.
I was about to put him right back in his place, when Natalie beat me to it. She turned to Chase with a sweet smile.
"Chase, honey, could you pass me the pie server? I'd love another slice."
He blinked, momentarily thrown by the endearment. But he recovered quickly, flashing her a roguish grin as he reached for the utensil. "Anything for you, Nat. You know I'm always happy to serve"—he wagged his eyebrows—"in any capacity. "
I saw red, my fingers curling into fists on the tabletop. But before I could react, Natalie leaned in close, her voice pitched low but still perfectly audible.
"Oh, I know exactly what kind of service you're offering, Chase. But let me make one thing very clear." She plucked the pie server from his hand, her smile never wavering. "I'm not interested. Not now, not ever. So you can take your wandering eyes and shove them where the sun don't shine. We clear?"
Chase's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. I bit back a laugh, pride and admiration swelling inside me. My girl took no shit.
"I said, 'Are we clear?'" Natalie's voice hardened just a fraction.
"Crystal," Chase muttered, his cheeks flushing red. He pushed back from the table, mumbling some excuse about needing to return a call before beating a hasty retreat.
Silence descended on the table, broken only by the scrape of Natalie's fork against her plate as she took a dainty bite of pie. Then Elliot let out a low whistle. "Damn, Nat. That was badass."
Natalie shrugged. "Just setting some boundaries. Chase is a good guy, but he needs to learn to keep it in his pants."
Mom cleared her throat delicately. "Well said, dear. Now, who wants coffee with their pie?"
As the conversation resumed around us, Natalie caught my eye, her expression melting into something tender and intimate. She reached under the table to find my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze .
I squeezed back, my heart so full it felt like it might burst. That woman amazed me.
Humbled me.
Made me want to be a better man.
The kind of partner she deserved.
The kind who would chase after her while she chased her dreams.