They were all older now. Just not necessarily wiser.
‘We’ll look forward to it,’ Henry said, leaning in for his own hug and kiss. ‘Family shouldn’t be apart at Christmas.’
Jasper came over to make his last goodbyes and then, suddenly, they were back on the road again.
Tori watched the Moorside Inn grow smaller and smaller in the wing mirror, and blinked away more tears she refused to shed when it disappeared completely.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SNOW STILL COVERED the land around them, inches deep and untouched except for the odd footprint or animal track. The road, however, was that horrible grey mush of snow mixed with salt and earth, churned up by car tyres. Jasper took the drive slowly, carefully, wondering if maybe they should have at least waited until after lunch to set out. But as soon as she’d heard the road was open, Tori had been getting ready to leave and shoving his backpack and laptop towards him.
The Moorside Inn might have been her home once, but she’d been conspicuously eager to leave it.
The memory of Tyler, he supposed, remembering that strange, middle-of-the-night connection between them after her dream. She hadn’t mentioned it this morning, unsurprisingly, so neither had he. In fact, she hadn’t mentioned much at all, and they’d reached the main road in complete silence. Jasper was starting to think they’d be all the way home at Flaxstone before Tori spoke, if then.
But they couldn’t just go back to being the people they’d been before they got snowed in together, could they?
Then, she’d been a challenge to him—and he was pretty sure he’d just been an annoyance to her. They had the memory of their one night together, sure, but that had been five long years ago. They’d both changed since then, right? He knew for certain that he had.
And he’d changed again over the last few days. No, not him, exactly. But his understanding of who Tori was, and his strange compulsion to know her better. He couldn’t return to being just colleagues—and acrimonious ones at that.
He wanted more.
He wanted her in his bed again tonight—a bed with enough room to spread out so that when she slept snuggled in his arms he knew it was because she wanted to be there, not just to avoid falling onto the hard floor.
And he wanted her wide awake, not dreaming. Wanted her thinking of him, not a dead lover he could never compete with.
Jasper shook his head and refocussed his attention on the road. What was he doing? Imagining himself in competition with the memory of an eighteen-year-old boy he’d never met?
Tori wasn’t his girlfriend, or even his lover. She was barely even a friend.
But somehow, the last few days, she’d seemed so much more.
At the Moorside, in their snow-induced bubble of time, she’d seemed like a partner. Maybe family, even. At the bare minimum, a real friend. One he badly wanted to kiss...
Would he be able to cling onto that seed of a relationship, once they were back at Flaxstone? It felt as if the connection between them were a tiny seedling, poking its head through the snow too early, and the slightest frost could kill it off.
But Jasper was determined to nurture it and help it grow. He’d seen behind Tori’s defences now, and he wanted that woman in his life. Not the brittle, argumentative, sarcastic woman he’d seen since he’d returned—well, actually, he wanted her too. He wanted all of her.
Hell. He really was in trouble.
* * *
By the time they pulled into Flaxstone Hall it was early afternoon, and Jasper’s eyes ached from focussing on the treacherous roads and idiots who didn’t know how to drive in the snow. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with his family, especially his father. But Tori had other ideas.
‘We should go and check in with the earl and give him our report from Stonebury,’ she announced, before he’d even cut the engine.
‘Now?’ he asked plaintively, as he climbed out of the car. ‘Can’t we just go back to bed first?’
She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Together?’
‘Well, preferably,’ he admitted.
With a sigh, Tori opened her own door, got out, and moved to meet him in front of the bonnet. ‘Jasper, do you want my list of reasons why that would be a bad idea alphabetically or in order of importance?’
Ouch. ‘Why don’t you just give me the top three?’ Hopefully ones he could counter with a reminder of just how good they could be in bed together. That searing kiss the night before had definitely confirmed for him that five years hadn’t stolen any of the passion that they’d shared.
But Tori lifted her hands to tick her points off on her fingers. ‘One, we need to talk to your father—like we were supposed to two days ago. He doesn’t like waiting. Two, I’ve been wearing these clothes for three days and I’m exhausted. And three, you and I both know that you’ll be running back off to the States again soon, and I’m not all that interested in being another of the background models in your peacock strut across the estate, thanks.’
‘My peacock strut?’ He didn’t have a strut. But he was pretty sure that number three was the only reason that was really stopping Tori after last night.
‘You definitely do. I had the misfortune to witness it for years with every new girl you brought home.’ She sighed. ‘Look, Jasper, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea last night. I was...upset. But I honestly believe that...giving in to anything between us again would be a bad idea. We were just caught up in the romance of being stranded in the snow.’
‘With about thirty other people,’ Jasper observed.
What was he missing here? She wouldn’t quite look him in the eye, he realised, and her hands were clasped tightly in front of her. Upset or not, he knew that the attraction had been real between them last night, which meant that her reasons not to act on it must be stronger.
Was this really because he’d had plenty of girlfriends in the past? Or because she knew he was leaving soon and didn’t want a meaningless fling? Both perfectly good reasons, except...they hinted at her wanting something more.
Jasper felt suddenly warm inside, despite the icy air all around them.
He’d avoided even a hint of more for years. But with Tori...maybe it wasn’t impossible?
Or maybe she wasn’t giving him the whole reason for her reluctance. Was this to do with his romantic past—or hers?
Eight years since Tyler died and she still woke up screaming from nightmares of losing him. Maybe he was the real reason she wasn’t willing to move on, if she knew that what was between them was more than just a fling.
And now his head was starting to hurt with all the possibilities.
Rolling his eyes, he felt his usual arrogant, aristocratic demeanour taking over, the way it always did when he was confused or threatened or embarrassed. It was an automatic defence system, just like Tori’s, he supposed, if a little flimsier.
‘Fine, you don’t want to go to bed with me. But I still think bed should be top of our list of priorities today. I’d happily take going to bed solo over dealing with dear old Dad right now.’ In truth, he wanted a little more time to marshal his arguments for making Stonebury an escape for his mother. He should have been planning that while he’d been stuck at the Moorside, but he’d been a little...distracted. ‘All that entertaining kids and serving meals wears a guy out, you know.’
‘Should have known you couldn’t handle an honest day’s work,’ Tori responded tartly.
Neither of them mentioned again the lack of sleep they’d suffered the night before after her nightmares, or the staying up late sharing secrets. Tori had packed that back in its box with her vague apology for ‘giving him the wrong idea’. Already, Flaxstone had brought back the people they’d been before the Moorside Inn. He should have expected it, but it hurt all the same.
‘Really, though. Can’t reporting in wait until tomorrow? Or at least later this afternoon?’