Tuesday, December 3, 2013

The Other Way: Two




            Sometimes this shit kills me

-

Jasper was the man of the hour.

It took me a long time to understand precisely how it worked, but Carlisle’s company bought and sold high-end properties, most of them crumbling resorts in faraway places that were typically rife with mosquitos, large scary spiders, and stunning white sand beaches. They hired contractors to make a quick sweep through the new purchase, giving each acquisition a face lift before the property was turned back over to the market. At triple the investment.

And Jasper had just scored the deal of the century.

It was a dilapidated island getaway that had been ravaged by a tidal wave the previous year, left to rot until he stumbled across it. He’d snatched it up the moment he found it, not wanting to wait for fear of losing the opportunity, and then had to explain himself to Carlisle and Emmett. Which was why his meeting today had him so nervous, the one he wouldn’t tell me about. He’d breached their standard protocol and ventured out on his own, not consulting with his two superiors before making a rash decision. It was an act, he explained to me in the limo, that had never been done before and he wasn’t entirely sure what the consequences would be.

Carlisle had looked pained. Emmett was downright pissed. Until they saw the numbers.

Enough zeros will forgive any indiscretion, I suppose.

“Does this mean we’re going to Thailand!?” I squealed, already bouncing in my seat with excitement. One of the best perks of Jasper’s job - by far - were the visits that had to be made to sign a final in-person inspection of the properties. These ‘inspections’ were basically just excuses for vacations and we’d travelled to some of the prettiest places on earth simply to try out the beds.

“Yes, it does. Not for a while, but soon.” Jasper patted my knee, amused by my turn of composure, barely containing his grin as though he hadn’t expected any different from me.

He was especially attentive all evening. Constantly cradling my hand or pressing his palm to my back, ushering me around the room to introduce me to people I wouldn’t remember an hour from now. Beaming that beautiful smile of his and shining under the glowing light his success bestowed on him. He kissed my shoulders and the back of my hand more times than I could count and I couldn’t help it if some of his radiance rubbed off on me.

“You two make quite the golden couple tonight.” Esme, Carlisle’s wife, plopped into Jasper’s chair beside me halfway through the evening. Smelling of roses and dressed impeccably, as usual.

I’m sure I spent most of the night beaming at him like a love-struck teenager, but I wasn’t the only one. Carlisle was nearly ready to adopt him, fawning over him almost as thoroughly as Jasper was fawning over me. He was introducing Jasper to an elderly gentleman whom I was certain had a particular penchant for cream filled pastries, his hand clapped possessively onto Jasper’s shoulder and it was probably a good thing he was holding on so tightly. Jasper’s airy glow was getting more intense and I was sort of afraid he might float away entirely before the evening was over.

“It’s all him,” I shook my head and pointed our husbands out to her. “Look at him, he’s practically glowing.”

“You are too, dear. You must be so proud.”

“I am.” I watched Jasper carefully, chest aching with something that felt heavy, like heartache without all the usual desperation. Esme caught me fingering the pendant at my chest and smiled cheekily at me.

“Your anniversary is coming up, isn’t it?”

“Next month.”

“Five years, is it not? I’ll always be sad that you got married just before we met each other,” she mused, sounding sad. Esme had missed our wedding by a matter of weeks, circumstance ushering life along at an alarmingly rapid pace, and I didn’t think she would ever forgive me for it. My marriage certificate was dated almost exactly four months after Jasper was hired by Carlisle, precisely one day before he signed the paperwork on the enormous house we now lived in, and two weeks before we were due in Italy for the very first of his ‘inspections.’ Esme found me hiding from a company dinner party in the bathroom of the new fancy hotel and we sat on the vanity sipping whiskey from the silver flask Jasper bought me until I was ready to return to the stifling party. She had never had a daughter of her own and took a liking to me immediately, becoming something of a god-send by helping me to adjust to my new standard lifestyle as gracefully as possible. Though she was nearly twice my age, we became fast friends, bonding over dirty martinis and cloves while our men were off talking about sod and foundations and infinity pools.

“Yes, five. It’s amazing how quickly it went by.” The gemstone on my chest was scorching hot, as though someone had strung a glowing ember on a burning chain. I gulped as Jasper glanced in my direction, catching sight of me staring at him and lifting his glass with a slight nod of his head in salute. He stuck out like a silver beacon in a sea of black, light and youthful amidst the dark and aging, eyes locked on mine through the din of conversation as though I was the only person he could hear.

Ugh, I needed some air.

There were french doors just a few steps from our table that opened up to a grassy lawn and I excused myself from Esme, ducking into the darkness and scampering around the side of the enormous house. I lofted my dress up out of the dewy grass and hoped I wouldn’t break my ankle, trying to remember what Rose had said about walking through grass in these stupid shoes. I was starting to suspect that she’d tell me not to. I found a quiet spot on the low stone wall to sit on and perched myself there, distant noise from the crowd inside spilling out of the giant house. I wasn’t even sure whose home it was, though I knew that Jasper had likely introduced me to them earlier tonight. Through the chaotic mess of faces and names, the only constant was Jasper and the warm heat of his palm, drowning out all the useless noise.

Five years.

Five years.

I hadn’t stopped to think about it until that very moment but holy shit, that was half a decade. It was surprising how stealthily the time had snuck by, like an animal crouched low to the ground, slinking through the underbrush.

“You must be Jasper Hale’s wife.”

I almost fell backward right off the wall, scared trembling and lightheaded. Someone stepped out of the darkness and stood just outside a patch of illuminated grass, the barest hint of a person visible. I steadied myself on the wall, heart beating frantically, clammy palms pressed to the stone.

“Possibly,” I tried not to gasp.

Possibly? Is it up for debate?” There was a chuckle from the dark, low and throaty and I tried to force my eyes to see better. All I could make out was a choppy silhouette of hair and a pale white smile through the gloom.

“It depends on who you are. And exactly how you know that.”

“Ah, well, I only know that because I’ve been watching him show you off all evening. . . . And, my mother told me.” He tacked on at the end, as though he wasn’t going to tell me that part.

“You’ve been watching us all evening?”

“Not him.”

“He hasn’t been showing me off,” I grumbled only halfheartedly.

“Sure he has. And with good reason.”

The man stepped into the light and I got a good look at his profile, a heavyset brow and defined nose, lots of messy hair tumbling down over his forehead. He needed a haircut worse than Jasper did and reminded me of someone I didn’t know very well, a snapshot taken from a hundred feet away, but I couldn’t put my finger on who.

“That’s quite the rock you’ve got there. Impressive.” I saw his hand gesture toward me through the dark and my own hand immediately pressed over the chunk of amber as though I could hide the evidence. It occurred to me that he could see me much better than I could see him, the light from the window illuminating my face but leaving him bathed in shadow.

“I should get back inside.” I lowered myself carefully off the wall, accepting the mystery guy’s offered hand to balance myself in Rose’s stupid excuse for shoes but only after I almost toppled right into a prickled rose bush. I fumbled for a moment with the tumbling fabric of my dress, ankles tangled, which bought me a moment to control my blush before I righted myself. His skin was smooth and surprisingly cool, my fingers clutched in his palm as he led me back toward the house without letting go.

Which was a good thing.

I probably would have face-planted somewhere along the lumpy lawn without him.

As we neared the noise spilling through the doors, I used the brighter light to get a better look at the guy I was currently holding hands with. He obviously hadn’t gotten the memo about the whole black-tie thing because he was in a pair of dark jeans, a thin cotton t-shirt, and his hair was, as I expected, an absolute disaster. He was wearing a sport coat that looked a little too big for him, the hint of a tattoo peeking from the cuff and I wondered if he’d borrowed someone else’s jacket because he didn’t have one of his own.

There you are. I’ve been searching everywhere for you.” Jasper emerged through the crowd the instant we stepped through the doors and took my hand, pressing his mouth warm and soft to the back of it. I let go of the mystery guy’s hand the same moment Jasper’s lips touched my other one.

“I found her in the garden. You should be careful leaving her alone, she’s far too enticing to be left to her own devices.” The mystery guy spoke up before I could, his eyes locked onto what was happening between Jasper’s lips and my skin. He had the barest hint of a five o’clock shadow and eyes that were a color of green unknown to the natural world. I was right about the tattoos, patterns of black sprawled across the backs of his hands and peeked from his shirt collar, only hinting at more. There were even a couple pieces of metal piercing his bottom lip and I wrenched my eyes off his face with only the sincerest amount of effort. Jasper glanced at me with his eyebrows tucked together and then gave the guy a calculating look, obviously taking note of his less than polished appearance and the flush across my face. He pulled me possessively into his side, fingers digging into my hip and extended an open hand.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jasper Hale.”

We both watched the guy nod to himself as Jasper confirmed the question I had declined to answer. He smiled to the side and met Jasper’s grip, eyes bouncing to me as they shook hands, looking hungry and irritated and oddly enough, a little pained.

“Edward Cullen. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”




Jasper was gazing thoughtfully out the window on the way home, sprawled up against the side of the limo and looking a little buzzed. He’d been clutching a snifter of brandy all night long and it had given him a flushed sheen of pink around the edges, skin dewy and glowing. His jacket was undone, shirt untucked, hair rumpled.

Far too delicious for his own good. Sometimes this shit killed me.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked him from the opposite seat, lying on my side with the dress spilled around me and my head a little dizzy. I’d been holding onto my champagne just as tightly as Jasper had his brandy and I probably had my own rosy glow to match him.

“Edward. I wonder how he gets his hair to do that?” he mused quietly.

“I’m pretty sure yours wouldn’t,” I grumbled at him. I’d been doing a lot of that tonight. I was also having the hardest time keeping my mind off those lip rings and the smatterings of ink that only teased at the implication of more which made his hair a whole other level that I couldn’t even begin to deal with. Across the car, Jasper was licking his bottom lip, tongue swiping languidly along like it always did when he was deep in thought and I stared at his mouth, an all too familiar ache settling between my legs.

Watching them shake hands tonight, polished silver rubbing up against weathered copper, made me feel as though I was witnessing a car accident.

Eerily intriguing. Thoroughly confusing. Painfully realistic.

Can’t look away.





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