Читать книгу Meant To Be Yours - Susan Mallery, Susan Mallery - Страница 13

JASPER THOUGHT ABOUT throwing his laptop out the window, but as always, talked himself down. The urge occurred fairly regularly and so far he’d resisted destroying his computer. No good would come of it, he reminded himself. It wasn’t as if getting rid of the piece of equipment would solve the problem. It wasn’t the keyboard’s fault that he couldn’t write for shit.

“Dammit,” he growled, pounding on the table.

Koda raised his head, as if asking what was wrong.

“Sorry,” he told the dog. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be more quiet.” Jasper saved the pitiful three sentences it had taken him the entire morning to write and leaned back in his chair.

“I can’t write women,” he told the dog. “Never knew it was a problem. After six years of being published, you wouldn’t think that would be news, but it turns out I’ve never tried to write a woman before. Not one who isn’t a victim or a one-night stand.”

He rested his head in his hand. “Please don’t repeat that to anyone. It makes me sound like a misogynistic asshole and I’m not. It’s just my detective had been single through the entire series and now that I’m wrapping things up with him and moving on to another character, everyone thinks I need to leave Vidar in a better place, and that means involved with a woman.”

His editor had suggested the idea more than once, and Jasper knew she was right. But who was the woman and how did they meet and when they met, what did they talk about? So far all his dialogue had been stilted and unrealistic. Book dialogue was not like normal human-to-human conversation. It was high points and information and moving the plot forward. In real life...

He smiled, thinking about the conversations he’d had the other night with Renee. Now those had been fun. Especially the parts where she’d gasped “More” or “Harder.” Neither of which was going to make it into his book. Writing a woman was difficult enough—no way he could write sex. He wrote about serial killers, and unless sex was part of the ritual murder, he absolutely was not going there in his novel.

Jasper looked at Koda. “I am one sick guy,” he admitted. “I need help.”

Koda got up and stretched, then picked up his stuffed rabbit and carried it over to Jasper.

“Thanks,” Jasper told the dog, before tossing it across his office. Koda trotted over and picked up the rabbit, carrying it back to Jasper, who threw it again.

They played the game for a few minutes before Jasper gave up pretending to work. He stood and headed for the door, Koda at his heels. They both went outside. Koda headed off into the woods to take care of business while Jasper looked around, wondering if there was any inspiration to be had or if he should simply accept his limitations and hope his career continued despite them.

He was deep in self-flagellation when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. Hunter Beauchene walked around the side of the house.

Wynn’s son was thirteen now, and getting taller by the day. He was at that awkward stage where his arms and legs didn’t fit with his torso. His voice was in the process of changing and every now and then, Jasper caught glimpses of the man he would eventually grow to be.

“Hey, you,” he said, holding out his hand. Hunter did the same as they greeted each other with their elaborate handshake, a ritual that had been established nearly two summers ago. Back when he’d first started seeing Wynn.

Not that she’d introduced him to Hunter. Instead she’d insisted their sex-only relationship be kept secret—especially from her son. If Hunter found out, it was over. Well, Hunter had figured it out almost immediately and had wanted to be friends with Jasper. The kid knew the rules and wanted to keep their hanging out time off his mom’s radar. Jasper had resisted at first but eventually Hunter had won him over and they’d started hanging out. He supposed his willingness to break her only rule had been a sign they weren’t going to make it as a couple. Ironically, as soon as they’d broken up, she’d stopped minding if he hung out with her son. Yup, women were confusing as hell.

“Is it afternoon already?” Jasper asked, glancing up at the sun. It felt earlier.

Hunter looked at him. “It’s barely eleven. I have the day off. The teachers are doing some training or something. You really don’t know what time it is?”

“I’ve been working.”

Hunter nodded, getting the explanation. He was used to Jasper’s odd ways.

Koda broke through the trees and raced toward Hunter. The teen dropped to his knees to greet the dog. In a matter of seconds, they were on the ground, tumbling over each other. The combination of happy yips and human laughter comforted Jasper. At least this part of his world was as it should be.

“You hungry?” Jasper asked, when the two broke apart.

“Got any cookies?”

Jasper and Hunter shared a weakness for Cheryl’s Cookies, and Jasper ordered them frequently. They agreed that the sugar cookies with buttercream frosting were the best.

They went into the kitchen and Jasper pulled four cookies out of the freezer. Hunter poured himself a glass of milk while Jasper refilled his coffee mug. Koda settled in his bed in the kitchen where he could watch everything going on.

The dog was doing well, Jasper thought. Putting on weight, sleeping and settling in to his new life. He was good company.

“How’s school?” Jasper asked as he opened the plastic wrap around the first cookie. “Classes going okay?”

“Jasper, you always ask that.”

“I’m interested. So answer the question.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “I’m doing fine. I get good grades.”

“You better.”

“Or what?”

Jasper grinned. “You want to go there with me, kid?”

Hunter laughed. “No, I don’t. But in a couple of years I’ll be able to take you.”

“In your dreams.”

“Mom says this year if you hire some guy to teach you a new fighting style I can come to the lessons. As long as they’re after school.” Hunter’s expression was hopeful. “So maybe you could think of something really cool for the book you’re writing.”

Jasper found it easier to write about something if he could actually do it himself. He’d learned to throw knives and use fighting sticks for previous books. And shoot a crossbow. Hunter had begged to be a part of the lessons, but while Jasper was willing to cross some lines, there were others that needed to stay in place.

“I will think of something cool,” he said, “but I will also run whatever it is past your mom.”

“She really did say that.”

“I believe you.” He flashed a grin. “Sort of.”

Hunter laughed and tossed Koda a piece of cookie.

“So what’s going on for the rest of your day off?”

Hunter finished his second cookie and picked up his milk. “I’m going to go over to a friend’s house.”

“You ride all the way up here?”

“I got a ride partway from a park ranger.”

Jasper thought about the pages he hadn’t written. He was behind on his book and if this morning was any indication—and so far, it was—without doing something drastic, he was never going to make forward progress on his story. Maybe he needed a change of scene and a chance to observe women in their natural habitat.

“I’m heading to town,” he said. “We can throw your bike in the back of the truck and I’ll drive you to your friend’s house.”

“Thanks.”

Thirty minutes later Jasper stood in the center of town and tried to figure out what he was supposed to do now. Walk around and watch women going about their lives? That wasn’t going to be good for anyone. He wasn’t some crazed stalker guy and would watching a random female do grocery shopping or walking her baby get him any closer to solving his problem? He honestly didn’t know where to start. Or how to start. Or what he wanted to do.

He walked over to a bench by the river and sat down. Detective Vidar needed a love interest. He didn’t want the woman to be a cop, so not anyone he worked with. Which was limiting because Vidar, like Jasper himself, didn’t have much of a social life. Dating a victim seemed tacky. Plus, most of Jasper’s killer’s victims ended up dead. So someone involved on the fringes of the crime? Or what? A neighbor? A...

He stood up. This was ridiculous. He knew women. Lots of women. All he had to do was talk to one of them. He looked around and saw the large wall that defined the boundaries of Weddings Out of the Box. Renee. He would go see Renee. Not only could they talk about his book, he would get to see her smile and that alone was worth a trip down the mountain.

“WE CAN DO an assortment of different kinds of apples to hold the place cards,” Renee said, scrolling through photos of apples on her computer. “That adds variety. However if you want consistency and to be in line with your color palette, then I would say stick with the Granny Smith apples.”

She paused and glanced at the speakerphone. There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of breathless female laughter.

“I’ve hit a wall,” Stacey Treadway said. “I can’t make one more decision. I just can’t.”

“Someone has to,” Renee said gently. “And it’s not going to be me.”

“And I thought apples would be easy. Let’s do the Granny Smith apples for the place cards. They’ll go with the glass towers we’ll have around the space and it will look nice.”

“Done and done,” Renee said, studying her list. “Stacey, I don’t want to scare you, but I think we’re finished.”

“Really? So no more decisions?”

“Not today.”

Stacey laughed. “Let me guess. You’re not making any promises.”

“Nope. But we’re really close and your wedding is going to be beautiful. I’m very excited to see everything turn out.”

“Thanks, Renee. You’ve been so wonderful to work with.”

“You’ve been great, too. Just remember, I’m here for you. Call me if you need anything and I’ll do the same. Otherwise, we are good to go.”

“Wow. It’s getting close. I guess I’ll see you soon.”

“You will.”

They hung up. Renee wrote up the notes from their phone call, entering the information on her computer where it would automatically feed to her tablet. A happy wedding day was all about keeping track of the details.

She’d barely hit the save key when Jasper walked into her office.

He looked good, she thought as she felt a bit of tingling low in her belly. Tall and a little rugged. She hadn’t seen him since their night together and wasn’t sure what to say now. Or think. Or how to act. Unexpected nerves tightened her throat and chest and she had the strangest urge to both bolt and throw herself at him. She settled on doing neither.

“Hey,” he said as he paused by the door. “Is this an okay time?”

“It is. What’s up?”

“I was in town and I wondered if we could talk for a second.”

“About?”

He motioned to a chair in front of her desk. She nodded and he sank down, then looked at her.

“I have no idea,” he said.

“You have no idea why you’re in town or you have no idea what you want to talk about?”

“Both.”

“Okay. Do you want to take a minute and collect your thoughts?”

Instead of answering, he glanced around at her office. “You plan weddings, right?”

“I do.”

“What does that entail?”

Not the question she was expecting. She smiled. “Are you asking for yourself?”

“You know I’m not.”

“Just checking. You might have met your one true love in the last few days.”

His gaze turned knowing. “I had someone on my mind, so no. Tell me what you do?”

“When a couple decides to hold their wedding here, I help them with as much of the wedding as they want. We provide a full service venue. We can arrange catering, bar service, flowers, an officiant and anything else they might want. In addition we have the unique ability to create nearly any kind of theme wedding the happy couple is looking for.”

He nodded. “Say I want a movie wedding. American Graffiti. Do you know it?”

“I’ve seen it before. It’s what, the 1960s? I’m kind of picturing the movie Grease, so I’d have to watch American Graffiti again to get the details right. We’d take liberties with the clothing. Some kind of poodle skirt bridesmaid dresses could be cute. We could do food from a diner for sure. Maybe a play on burgers and fries. Silver could come up with some fun cocktails—all variations on classics. You’d want a cutout of that white Thunderbird for guests to take pictures in. 1960s music, for sure. Oh, we could get a bunch of 45 records and use them in lots of different decorations. Maybe around the base of the centerpieces, or hanging from the ceiling. I think themed custom cookies would be terrific, too. If the groom was willing, we could really play on the poodle skirt idea and have poodles made out of flowers. And a soda fountain would be fantastic. Oh, we could do ice cream–based adult beverages. That would be unique and the guests would love it.”

He stared at her. “You came up with all that in a minute.”

“Probably more like five, but yes. Jasper, that’s what I do. I might know what a bride wants before she comes in but often I don’t. I need to be able to think on my feet.” She leaned toward him. “Once we picked a direction, we would discuss who’s providing the vendors and where she is in her process. Oh, we also need to know how long we have. Less time makes things frantic, but more time means decisions get changed again and again and that can be stressful for all of us.”

She paused. “I can keep talking, but I’m not sure what you want to know.”

“Me, either. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. This is for your book, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m having some problems with one of the characters.” He frowned. “Why aren’t you married?”

She hadn’t seen that question coming. “Excuse me?”

“Why aren’t you married? You’re smart, you’re sexy and—” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “I happen to know you’re dynamite in bed.”

She felt herself flush. “Thank you and that is off-topic.”

“Too personal?”

“A little, but also confusing.”

“I don’t get women,” he admitted. “I have this character and I can’t figure her out. I can’t even make her close to real. Why do women do what they do? What are they thinking?”

He got up and closed her office door, then returned to his seat. “That night at The Boardroom. Why me? Why then? I served for eight years and when I got out of the army I was so screwed up in the head. I’ve made my way back a fair amount but we both know I’ll never be normal. I’m okay with that. But you’re not damaged. So why aren’t you with some great guy, popping out babies and living the American Dream?”

She could see he was genuinely confused, which was kind of appealing. Later she would think about how casually he talked about being damaged. According to Wynn, he wasn’t as broken as he thought, but that was for another day.

As for his question about her single status, she wasn’t sure what to say. There were a lot of reasons and many of them had to do with her mother. No way she was going to talk about that. So maybe something safer. And lucky for her, it was the truth.

“I’ve had two serious relationships,” she began. “In college and then a few years later. My last one lasted almost three years. He was a little older, established. Nice. That’s what I liked most about him. He was just plain nice. A thoughtful man who paid attention to the little things.”

“I hate him already.”

She smiled. “Don’t bother. He’s not worth the energy. Things were going great until they weren’t. We were seeing each other regularly, when we could. He traveled. I thought we were in love and mentioned marriage. He said he needed time. He loved me but didn’t see himself committing to one woman for the rest of his life.” Her mouth twisted as she remembered the long talks. “He said if he was ever going to marry someone, it would be me.”

Jasper looked concerned. “Did he cheat?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” She sucked in a breath and looked at him. “It turns out he was already married. With three kids. When I found out and confronted him, he admitted he totally adored his wife and his family and had no plans to leave them, but he loved me, too, and hoped we could just go on the way we had been.”

Jasper swore under his breath. “You kicked his ass to the curb.”

“I did. I felt stupid. Did he play me or did I allow myself to be played? And did it really matter?”

She still couldn’t answer that question. She’d taken over a year to come to terms with his deception and her own foolishness. Falling for someone married after the disaster with Turner and their broken engagement, she’d realized love simply wasn’t going to happen for her. Whether it was because she chose the wrong guy or because there was something fundamentally wrong with her, the end result was the same. Relationships ended. Men left—like her dad, Turner. Or they were total losers. Regardless of the how and why, she always found herself alone and shattered. She wasn’t going to do that ever again.

“You weren’t wrong to give your heart,” Jasper told her. “You didn’t know what he was doing. It’s not your fault.”

“I still feel stupid and ashamed. At least I did. Now I’ve moved on. Anyway, that goes in the column of reasons why I’m not married. I take issue with your assuming that a woman has to—” she made air quotes “—be married and pop out babies to be living the American Dream.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I kind of figured that one out on my own. The woman thing is hard. Any suggestions on how to do better?”

She thought for a second. “Movies. Watch movies.” She started writing on a piece of paper. “Two Weeks Notice, Brooklyn, Juno, Steel Magnolias.” She wrote down several others. “These are all strong women in great stories. Watch them, then we’ll talk.”

He took the list and stood. “Thanks, Renee. I appreciate it. I’ll start watching them today.”

Before she could answer, he was gone. Just like that. No offer for a lunchtime quickie or even some idle chitchat.

“You are such a guy,” she murmured, before turning back to her computer. Which, she had to admit to herself, wasn’t really a bad thing at all.

JASPER WATCHED THE movies Renee suggested and a few more. He made sure he fed Koda on time and took the old guy for a walk every day. Otherwise, he was pretty much glued to his TV or tablet. He watched movies while jogging on his treadmill, while preparing and eating his meals. He fell asleep watching movies, then started fresh in the morning.

Several days later, he surfaced, realizing he’d watched all the ones Renee had suggested, and several more, and he still had questions. After checking the time on his phone and realizing it was barely seven in the evening, he texted Renee.

You around?

A bit later, she responded. Are you asking what I think you’re asking?

He picked up his phone and called her.

“I was asking if we could talk,” he said when she answered. “I watched all those movies you suggested and I have a lot of questions.” And an interest in seeing her because it had been a few days and even while watching the movies, she’d been on his mind.

“Oh. Okay. I wasn’t sure.”

“What else would I be asking?”

“I thought maybe a polite version of ‘u up.’ You know—the texting question about a booty call.”

“I didn’t know that.” He paused. “Maybe I knew that, but I wasn’t thinking about that.”

She chuckled. “Apparently we need a code word. And to be honest, some foreplay, because I would need more than ‘u up’ to get me in the mood.”

“I can be all about foreplay. What would you like?” Because while he had wanted to ask her some questions, they could wait until after. “Or I could come over and figure it out.”

“I can’t. I have my period and I feel awful. And while that probably falls under the category of TMI, it’s true.”

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”

“I wish, but this is my problem. However, I am available to school you on the mysterious ways of women. Did you really watch all those movies?”

“Yes, and a lot more. You sure you’re up for company?”

“I would appreciate the distraction. Just ignore the soft whimpers.”

“Would ice cream help?”

She sighed. “Actually, it would help a lot.”

“I’m on my way.”