He sets down his mug on the arm of the wooden bench by the front door and reaches out to take the cookies. “Nah. I’ll find a way, with the tech. I pretty much try to put things in the right order in my life, and if I’ve got my wife and kid in the top two places, everything else tends to work out all right in the end.”
“I’m in love with her,” I say. That’s the right order. I feel it in my bones.
“Right.” He picks up the mug again, gestures it in her direction. She’s almost to the cottage door. “What’s all this, then?”
This, I think to myself,is the low moment.
And then I step off the porch and go after her.
Chapter Twelve
KRISTEN
Halfway to the cottage, and I know I’ve made a mistake.
I shouldn’t have run, and I know it. First of all, there’s the matter of how it must’ve looked to Gil, especially given my flimsy excuse, and he’s probably back in his house right now shrugging and giving alookto Romina, one of those married peoplesomething’s-going-on-theresilent communications that’ll surely make it even more awkward when I do go back. For the family Christmas lunch they were kind enough to invite us to in the first place.
Second of all, I know Jasper will follow me back here. Iknowhe will, and then we’ll have to have this conversation, the one I should’ve insisted on having this morning. I should’ve set an alarm to wake up early, should’ve made a list of points to cover. In what universe would I have thought it was a good idea to try to work with him, to attempt a more challenging than usual recruiting conversation after such a monumental shift in our personal relationship? Themorningafter? Iknowbetter. I know that at the very least you have to identify the boundaries, set the rules—
“Kris,” Jasper calls from behind me, right as I’m getting to the cottage’s tiny porch threshold.
Third of all, Jasper followed me back here looking like this.
Focused. Determined. Ambitious. Jasper on the job.
I stop short of opening the door, instead standing my ground on the porch, raising a hand to shade my brow from the sun. It’s better than doing this inside there, inside the place where I woke up with a chorus of holiday bells ringing in my heart, thinking I’d finally seen and been with the real Jasper, the Jasper who wouldn’t risk a relationship for a job. But then he’d rolled over and gotten to work, and everything inside of me had gone cold and silent, and I haven’t been thinking straight since.
“I just need a minute,” I say, and he takes a step closer and slightly to the side, the perfect spot to block the sun from my eyes. I drop my hand and try not to fall more in love with him, which is hopeless.
Now that I can see him better I can see that his determination is a little frayed around the edges, his hair mussed and his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide with concern.
I’m about to tell him not to worry about it, to go back to Gil, to count on me being ready to do the job. I’ll say I got my period and need a tampon or something; that always makes men disappear into thin air.
But instead Jasper blurts, “I want to be in each other’s top places.”
A clump of snow from the roofline plops onto his shoulder.
“What?”
“That’s what Gil said, about the job.” He’s breathing a little heavy, and I know from gym time and now also from sex time that it’s not from exertion. “He puts his wife and kid in the top place, and then he makes everything else work. I think we can do that, me and you.”
“Jasper—”
“So what if we lose this job? That doesn’t have to be because of this, of what happened between us. Or maybe it does, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll find a way. We’ll do what we have to do with the firm. We can keep Carol, lose the office space, downsize for a while—”
“What?”
“Listen, I know what you’re thinking.”
“You clearly do not know what I’m thinking. You think I’m worried about losing the job?”
Another small clump of snow falls from the roof, lands on the right side of his head, but he simply brushes it off and keeps going. “No—I mean, not this one, specifically. I think maybe you think Gil’s doing the right thing, staying here. But I also know you broke your rules with me last week and last night, and I don’t want you to think I’ll let it mess up us working together. Iwon’t. I thought if we could convince the Dreyers, you’d see that we could handle this.”
I blink at him. A tiny chime in my chest. “What’s thethis?” I ask him.
He stares at me, the snow on his shoulder sliding down. “The . . .this?”
“What’s thethiswe’re handling? And back in the airport, when I said I was sorry about the kiss—you told me you couldn’t lose this. What’s thethis?”
