* * *
This time, when Jasper woke up in Tori’s bed in her cosy gatehouse cottage, she was still beside him, gloriously naked and tangled in sheets and blankets and his arms.
Just another reason why this time had been so much better than the last. Add in five years of maturity, experience—and a far deeper understanding of each other—and the night had been, well, glorious. So much more than he’d expected, even yesterday.
‘You okay?’ Tori mumbled, turning over and looking blearily up at him. ‘I mean, was everything...okay?’
‘More than.’ He pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder, then moved his lips up towards her ear. ‘Better than the best steak and ale pie in the country,’ he whispered, and she laughed.
God, he loved that sound. Loved seeing her, hearing her, free from secrets and the past and inhibitions. They’d told each other everything now. She knew about Felix and his dad, and he knew about the boyfriend who died, who’d made her close herself off to the world.
He’d looked behind the battlements and discovered the real Tori Edwards. And he didn’t think he’d ever stop being grateful that she’d let him.
‘Do you think you can get me some more of those pies, though, when you go back for Christmas Day?’ he asked.
She rolled her eyes. ‘If I go. And if you’re still here when I get back.’
‘You might not go?’ Jasper frowned. He’d thought she’d made her peace with Liz and Henry, found some closure. He didn’t like the idea of her being all alone in the world again once he returned to the States. Not when that meant the only family she had was his dysfunctional one.
Tori sighed. ‘I’m not sure it would be a good idea. And besides, they gave me my Christmas present already, remember? Wrapped and packed in the car when I wasn’t supposed to be looking.’
‘You don’t think they’re expecting you to show up either,’ Jasper said, piecing it together. ‘But why not? Because of Tyler?’
At that, Tori tumbled out of bed, keeping one of the blankets tucked around her, and flashed him a quick smile. ‘Let’s not worry about this now. We have the party to look forward to tonight. I need to survive that before I can even think about Christmas Day.’
She was deflecting, he realised. Leading him away from the question.
Suddenly he wondered if she had told him everything about why she’d left the Moorside, after all. And if she would even tell him if he asked.
More secrets. Great.
The happy, relaxed and sated feeling he’d woken up with started to ebb away, leaving him tense and awkward again. He sat up, as Tori gathered his clothes together from where they’d been scattered on the floor, and handed them to him.
‘You can use the shower first, if you like,’ she said, with a false brightness. ‘After all, you need to go talk to your mother this morning. But I’ll see you tonight for the party.’
Then she disappeared towards the kitchen, and he heard the kettle flick on.
Brilliant.
Jasper swung his legs over the side of the bed. Given how quickly his perfect morning had deteriorated, he supposed he’d better go have that conversation with his mother before things got any worse.
* * *
Tori heard the cottage’s front door close quietly behind Jasper, and let out a sigh of relief. Then, she tipped the coffee she’d made him down the sink, and took her own cup to the tiny kitchen table where she could look out of the window at Flaxstone in the snow and think. Something she’d apparently been doing too little of lately.
The euphoria and hope of the night before had worn off quickly in the early morning light. It had felt so right, so easy, waking up beside him. The peace of a snowy winter’s day outside her window, and the warmth of his arms around her. Like the Moorside again, only better.
As if it was where they were meant to be.
What had she been thinking, bringing Jasper back here last night? Well, she knew the answer to that. She’d been thinking that he was gorgeous, she was insanely attracted to him, still, and she wanted him in her bed again. And she’d also been thinking that he was leaving soon. That he’d disappear back to the States and leave her and her mess of a history behind without another thought.
Because the truth was, as much as she hated the thought of Flaxstone without him again, it would probably be the best thing for both of them.
He was too invested, too deep into her personal life already. Tori had always kept that side of her—Vicky’s side, as she thought of it—walled off, for a very good reason. Because of the pain of the memories, of course, and because of the guilt. Because of the way Jasper—or anyone—would look at her if they knew how she was responsible for Tyler’s death. But mostly because she knew it could all too easily happen again.
She wanted things. She wanted success, she wanted a career, she wanted to go places and see things and do stuff that her mother could only have dreamed of. Even if, so far, she hadn’t quite made it out of Yorkshire. It was that selfishness that had killed Tyler.
And it hadn’t changed.
She’d tried—really she had. Straight after his death, she’d vowed she’d never put her personal ambition above what her loved ones wanted again. But that wasn’t who she was. She was Victoria Edwards and she wanted. No amount of love could change that, and eight years definitely hadn’t.
Which was why it wasn’t fair to get involved with people, not when she knew that she’d always choose her own ambition over them, and only end up getting them hurt. Or dead, in Tyler’s case.
He’d told her, to her face, that if she left for university bad things would happen. That he wouldn’t cope without her. And he’d been right.
But she’d gone anyway.
A better life for her meant a worse life for other people. But she was such a terrible person that she still couldn’t stop wanting.
She’d wanted Jasper. But this morning, hearing him ask about Henry and Liz and Christmas at the Moorside, she’d realised what a mistake that was.
Jasper couldn’t be an anonymous one-night stand. Even last time he’d been a risk, but she’d wanted so badly she’d taken it anyway, and lucked out when he’d left without seeing her again. He’d always been too desperate to break through her walls—through curiosity more than anything, she suspected. Jasper hated anyone having secrets he didn’t know and understand—just look at his reaction to the news about Felix.
What would he do if she told him hers? Explained exactly why this couldn’t happen again?
Tori had a horrible feeling she was going to find out, and soon. Certainly before he left for America again. Because Jasper never let secrets stay hidden.
* * *
Jasper found his mother exactly where he expected to find her: settled on the loveseat in her small sitting room, looking out over the gardens, a tea tray at her side and a murder mystery novel in her hands. Mornings were sacred to Lady Flaxstone. In the afternoons, she’d busy about with local events, estate business, fundraising, visits and so on. But the mornings were entirely hers and not to be disturbed.
‘I’m not a morning person,’ he remembered her saying once, when he’d asked her about it. ‘I don’t even like my own company in the mornings. Why would I enjoy anyone else’s?’
Perhaps, with hindsight, he should have waited until this afternoon to broach the subject of Felix’s legitimisation with her, but now he was here, all he wanted to do was get it over with.
‘Mother?’
Lady Flaxstone looked up, obviously surprised at being interrupted. ‘Jasper? What’s happened? Is something the matter?’
He forced a smile onto his face, and took the small armchair opposite her. He always felt as if this sitting room had been designed for a race of humans about three quarters the size of the average. He was a giant in this space.
Or maybe his mother had just wanted to make it uncomfortabl
e for other people, so she wouldn’t be disturbed. He wouldn’t put it past her. She always did create her own world, her own reality, exactly the way she wanted to believe it could be.