It might have, once, she supposed. That one night they’d spent together...she’d let herself wonder, just for a minute or two, in between the panic, if it might happen again. If it might become something that happened with regularity. Officially, even.
Like a relationship. Not that she wanted or needed such a thing.
But...it had been...nice was the wrong word. But it had been something. Something she hadn’t expected to feel again, after Tyler died. A connection. A possibility.
Plus, the sex had been kind of mind-blowing. So much better than her teenage fumblings and experimentation, even if it felt like a betrayal of Tyler to think it.
But then Jasper had left, of course, as she should have known he would. Ever since she’d met him he’d had a parade of girls passing through Flaxstone, none ever staying long enough to make much of an impact. Felix always said it was because he’d been burned by love before, but Tori had her doubts. More likely that Jasper’s looks, title and money gave him access to far more adoring women than was good for him, and he didn’t even consider that saying no to any of them was a possibility.
She’d thought she had the measure of Jasper, Viscount Darlton, until the evening she’d seen that strange vulnerability in him, and wondered if there might be something more to the man, behind the charm and the confidence. If that one night could have meant something more to him than simply comfort on a bad day.
But then he’d fled the country before she’d even had the chance to stop panicking about having slept with him at all, let alone moved on to actually talking to him about what happened next. Thank God she’d never been stupid enough to fall in love with him. In fact, she’d decided it was probably all for the best, at the time, and that thought had helped her keep that one night firmly at the back of her memory for the last five years. Well, mostly, anyway.
And then he’d come back. He still had that shining brightness he’d had as an entitled, self-confident young man, but there was something more brittle about it now. As if he was trying too hard to be that person again. Tori hadn’t been around him enough to even think about why, really, until this week. Or to be reminded of their night together.
But now? Stuck in her childhood home, reliving all the other memories she’d buried for the better part of a decade, and sharing a bed with the man?
Yeah. She was thinking about it. She was remembering everything.
At least it was more fun than dwelling on Tyler and her many, many mistakes.
With a sigh, Tori decided she was probably about as presentable as she was likely to get, and headed downstairs. Already as she descended she could smell wonderful food scents rising from Henry’s kitchen, and wondered what he’d managed to concoct for them for dinner, from whatever he had in the freezers and stores. Having missed lunch, she sincerely hoped it was both hearty and filling. Something to ward off the cold so she didn’t feel driven to snuggle quite so close to Jasper tonight.
It would help if he weren’t so damn attractive. As much as he could irritate her with that constant bright-side vision, not to mention his entitled, son-of-an-aristocrat presence, she had to admit she sometimes went out of her way to be irritated by him. Because if her brain kept telling her how annoying he was, perhaps it would override her body reminding her how damn sexy he was, to boot. That optimist’s smile of his was almost impossible not to return, as hard as she tried. And she always knew the instant she failed, because it turned warmer, more heated, as if getting a reaction from her was all just foreplay.
Maybe it was, to him.
Hell, maybe it was to her too.
Because her brain was doing a worse and worse job these days. It had even taken the time to point out how damn cute he was building snowmen with kids, or how non-aristocratic he looked helping Henry dish out dinner last night.
Damn it. She was not falling for her boss’s son. No way. Not after five years of trying to forget about him.
And definitely not here and now.
But then she walked into the bar and saw Jasper standing on the counter, pinning garishly coloured paper chains to the beams, cheered on by a swarm of grinning children, as Slade blared out of the speakers and she realised that she might already be too late to stop it.
Maybe even five years too late.
* * *
Dinner that night was a delicious sort of everything stew that Henry declined to detail the ingredients of, but Jasper suspected was ‘everything I could find in the freezer this morning’. He sat perched at the bar mopping his up with a giant hunk of homemade bread, thankful that it was nearly bedtime at least. The one point in the day where Tori couldn’t possibly avoid him any longer.
She’d arrived downstairs that evening just as he’d finished decorating the bar, and he’d almost fallen off his stool at the sight of her. Not because she’d changed into some glamorous new outfit, or done anything different with her hair or make-up, like in some high-school romantic-comedy movie. Because she looked so young, so open, and so scared, in a way he’d never seen before.
What the hell did Henry say to her?
Now, an hour or two later, she surprised him all over again—by hoisting herself up onto the bar stool next to him, as Henry placed a pint of bitter in front of her.
‘You drink pints?’ Jasper asked, figuring she’d probably clam up again if he asked what he really wanted to know. Are you okay?
Tori shrugged and took a sip. ‘I grew up in a pub. Henry taught me to appreciate the good stuff—whenever Liz wasn’t looking.’
Flashing them both a grin, Henry took himself off to serve someone at the far end of the bar.
Jasper hoped the pub was well enough stocked with kids’ juices to get them through the night.
‘Is it strange, being back here?’ That was neutral enough, right? He wasn’t asking why she’d left, or what Henry had said that had made her hide herself away all day.
‘Very,’ Tori said, with feeling. Her eyes cast around the place, as though she was cataloguing everything that had changed in her absence.
‘I guess it’s a lot different. You said you hadn’t been back in eight years...’
She looked up at him sharply. ‘When did I say that?’
‘When we were talking. Last night.’ Damn. He should have known she wouldn’t remember; she’d barely been conscious when she said it.
‘Right.’ She stared down at her pint. ‘Well, yes. It’s been a while.’
Why? He desperately wanted to know, but he also knew that if he asked she’d never tell him. S
he was contrary that way. It was one of the things he found most intriguing about her.
‘But actually I was just thinking about how everything is exactly the same,’ she went on, unprompted. Jasper stayed silent, listening intently. He’d take any scrap of a clue she gave him. ‘Same paintings on the walls... It’s like a time capsule in here. They’ve kept everything exactly the same. Like they never moved on from—’ She broke off.
‘You leaving?’ Jasper guessed.
Tori gave him a half-amused smile and shook her head. ‘No, not that.’
Slipping from his bar stool, Jasper moved from painting to painting, taking in the landscapes and colours, the drama and contrast. He was no great art connoisseur, but he’d spent enough time staring at his ancestors’ oil portraits in the Long Gallery at Flaxstone to know he much preferred these slashes of paint that somehow encapsulated the wildness and the wonder of the moors.
‘They’re great paintings,’ he said, returning to his seat. ‘And perfect for the location. Why would they change them?’
Her smile was sad, this time. ‘They wouldn’t. Ever.’
Jasper made a mental note to ask Henry about the paintings.
‘So. Are we roomies again tonight?’ he asked, bringing the moment back to the present.
‘I guess so. It’s not like there are suddenly fewer people crammed in here.’ Tori didn’t sound as if she was jumping with joy at the prospect. Really, she was hell on a guy’s ego. But then, just when he was about to say something self-deprecating in the hope of making her laugh—he’d take his wins where he could get them, with her—her expression softened in a way he remembered too well, from one night five years ago. ‘You were great with the kids today. I don’t know what everyone would have done without you here to keep them entertained.’