Chapter 9

Jasper pulled the last cup of coffee from the carafe on the counter Friday evening, waved it slowly under his nose, then smiled. Best blend yet. He took a sip, savoring it before he swallowed, closing his eyes as he pictured the old days, when he would toss a cup of Starbucks down his throat in preparation for a big meeting or court appearance, barely tasting it as he prayed for the caffeine to jet straight to his veins.

He leaned against the counter, watching the sunlight slant through the plate-glass windows, warming the scarred oak tables he’d refinished one by painful one. Everything in here had his hands on it, and that’s exactly the way he’d wanted it.

Ten years ago, his only skill had been professional arguing. He’d done it loudly at boardroom tables, quietly-but-urgently at back tables in restaurants, and solidly in courtrooms. He’d been the firm’s go-to guy when things got hot, and he’d been happy to pull on his suit, rope his neck into just the right tie, and march into battle with his polished shoes and suit that cost more than a mortgage payment.

More times than not, he’d won. Many more times than not. He’d enjoyed the chilled champagne or the cold draft afterward, depending on the client. He’d loved the rush of success when the gavel came down on his side. He’d basked the adoration of clients big and small.

It had been heady. It had been good. It had earned him a hell of a salary, a house and three cars, and a wife who’d adored him, too.

He’d thought so, anyway.

Yeah, he’d been living the dream.

He sighed, shaking his head as he stretched his neck. Funny how one’s definition of dream could change in an instant…in a clanging cacophony of metal and glass and tears.

So many tears.

The bell on the door mooed, startling him, and he shook his head to clear it.

“You extending your Friday-night hours?” Liam strode toward the counter. “Or did you forget to lock up?”

“The latter.” Jasper headed for the door to flip the sign and slide the dead bolt into place. “What’s up?”

“Not a damn thing, and I like it that way.”

“Another Friday night at Salty’s for you?”

“Nope.” Liam shook his head. “Not till more of the tourists are gone. Then Salty can put away those damn girlie drinks and get back to having ten taps ready to roll. I swear, this town’s overrun with women looking for cowboys this summer.”

“Jealous?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Jasper laughed. “Get a Stetson. They’ll never know you’re a frustrated musician.”

“It’s all Whisper Creek’s fault. They’ve got that website teeming with testosterone, and women arrive here thinking every guy out here looks like that.”

“You could always take a couple of lessons. Maybe we could talk to Decker and Cole about starting a Wanna-Be-a-Cowboy program.”

Jasper ducked out of the way before Liam’s slug hit his arm. “Nobody likes a comedian.”

“Eh, don’t take out your bitter Friday-night datelessness on me.”

“Not dateless or bitter, but thanks for your concern.” Liam hooked a thumb toward the front window. “I was thinking about heading over to Gina’s for a bite. You hungry?”

“Might be. You buying?”

“Hell, no. You’re the attorney. You can buy your own.”

“Not an attorney anymore.”

“Fine. You’re the coffee magnate. Either way, you can afford your own damn burger.”

Jasper rolled his eyes as he shut off the lights and opened the front door, trying to ignore the sting of Liam’s completely unintentional jab.

Magnate, his ass.

Yeah, he had money. He had a shitload of it, actually. But he’d earned every penny of it, and he’d donate every penny of it to have back what he’d lost. He’d been trying to give it away since he’d arrived here in Carefree, and he’d found some good people to help him figure out the best ways to do it, but it was never enough.

It would never be enough.

“Hold up.” A minute later, Liam raised a hand to stop Jasper when they were three buildings shy of Gina’s Café. “Do you see what I see?”

Jasper followed the direction of Liam’s chin as he jabbed it toward the café. At first he saw just the usual collection of black wrought-iron tables under green umbrellas, scattered with locals and tourists who appreciated Gina’s farm-to-table menu.

Then he saw the profile of a lone woman who looked all too familiar…and a giant binder on her table that told him exactly who she was.

Jasper smiled. “Fine. I see her.”

Liam yawned. “You know what? On second thought, I’ve actually had a long day. I think I’m gonna go get a pizza at Ramunto’s and call it a night.”

“Really.” Yeah, the sarcasm dripped heavily. He couldn’t help it.

“Exhausted.” Liam winked. “But it looks like she hasn’t ordered yet. Just saying. I’m sure she could use some company.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Eh, I’ve been called worse.” Liam clapped him on the shoulder as he turned around. “Let me know how it goes.”

And then he was gone, sauntering back up the street toward the pizza joint where he’d eat three meals a day if his arteries would allow it.

Jasper glanced at Emma, who was engrossed in that stupid policy-and-procedures manual. He took a deep breath, ducking casually into the entryway of the hardware store, then pulled out his phone and punched in numbers he knew by heart.

“Ramunto’s. Whaddya want?” came a familiar voice over the speaker.

“Terrible customer service and even worse pizza. You got that?”

Stefano laughed, his voice low and gravelly. “My specialty.”

“I’ve got a favor to ask.” Jasper tried to keep the smile out of his voice.

“Name it.”

“Liam just come in?”

“Ordering his usual now, yeah.”

“Good. I’ll pay you double what he’s paying if you’ll add a liberal dose of your best hot sauce to his pizza.”

Stefano laughed again. “What’d he do now?”

“He earned it. Promise.”

“All right. I’ll put it on your tab. It’s on your conscience, though, if he ends up in the emergency room.”

“Well, don’t put that much on. Just enough to make him think twice about trying to set his buddy up with a strange woman.”

“Huh. How strange is she? I mean, just so I know how much sauce?”

Jasper shook his head, glancing again at Emma, whose hair had streaks of gold he hadn’t noticed before. Of course, he’d been pretty damn busy trying not to notice anything about the woman every time he’d been at Shady Acres all week.

Every nerve of his body had told him to run. Told him to run now. Fast and hard.

“Assume she’s a troll, Stefano.”

“Done,” the older man wheezed. “But maybe it couldn’t hurt to see if he’s on to something with this one, yeah?”

“Stefano?”

“Hot sauce. Okay. You have a good night, now.”

Jasper pocketed his phone, fighting internally over which direction to walk. The safe choice would be a 180 right back to his place, where he could make a ham sandwich and watch the game—any game—upstairs.

Safe choice and smart choice, because it would take him out of range of the beautiful woman sitting all by herself, looking like she was trying not to look lonely.

He knew lonely. He felt it keenly, every damn day. His lonely, he deserved.

He didn’t know hers.

He didn’t want to.

So why was it so damn hard to turn around and walk the other way rather than stand here in the hardware store doorway like an idiot?

His phone chirped with a text, and he pulled it out to look.

Go talk to her, lame-ass.

He turned around and sent his middle finger directly toward Liam, who was now sitting at one of Ramunto’s outside tables, a large beer in front of him.

Liam lifted his beer in a cheers motion, the asshole.

Jasper’s phone chirped again. Just had to pay Stefano triple to cancel your hot-sauce order, cowboy. Watch your back.

Jasper laughed, shaking his head.

He turned back around, intending one last glance at Emma before he headed for home. He wasn’t the damn Carefree welcoming committee. She was a grown woman here on temporary stopover. She didn’t need him to take pity on her.

But when he looked, she was no longer buried in the manual. Instead, her blue eyes were staring straight at him, eyebrows up like she was wondering how long he planned to stand there not going anywhere.

Aw, damn.

If she didn’t have that little dimple…if she didn’t have that half-smirky smile on like she’d caught him and she knew it…he might have been able to give a casual wave and head on back home.

But he’d be an ass if he did that, now that she’d seen him, so he set off toward her.

“Hey, there. Find your job description yet? And really, is it a good idea to be sitting alone at a table in this high-crime hovel?”

She laughed, and he loved the way it made her eyes crinkle.

Da-amn, she was cute.

“Hovel, yes. That’s just how I was describing it to my sister.” She waved an arm around, indicating the sidewalks and park. “I mean, the flowers, the green grass, the horribly unfriendly people. It’s a wonder I haven’t fled yet.”

“I know it. I’m surprised you’ve held out for an entire week.”

“It’s a trial. I’m doing my best.” She smiled. “Are you on a very important Friday-night mission? Or would you like to sit down for a minute?”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt Policies 101 class here.”

She closed the binder. “Puh-leeze interrupt. If I read one more sentence about body fluids, I’m not going to be able to eat dinner.”

“Well, if I’d be doing a service by saving you from the manual—”

“You would.” She rolled her eyes. “Did I mention how Bette took out three chapters? And sent me on yet another wild goose chase to find them?”

He pulled out a metal chair and settled into it, laughing. “No, but it doesn’t surprise me a bit.”

She sobered. “Do you know how she is?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Not much.” She shook her head. “Just that she was out of surgery, things went well, and she was still planning to be back in twelve weeks.”

“Well, don’t be surprised to see her in six.”

“I won’t be. I don’t even know her, but I really won’t be.” Emma smiled. “So maybe I’ll be gone before snow flies, after all.”

“Could be.” He nodded but felt a weird pull of disappointment in his gut.

He stomped on it. Hard.

“So what’s good here?” She pulled two menus out from between the napkin holder and condiment tray, handing him one while she opened her own.

“Everything. Unless you hate mushrooms. In that case, avoid page three.”

“Axing page three. Gotcha. Thank you.”

He studied the menu, though he knew it by heart already. Gina and Stefano could pretty much be credited with providing 50 percent of his meals some weeks, though he knew damn well how to cook. He just hated doing it alone.

“So is that your place over there? Java Beans?” She pointed across the green, where his deep green sign hung, gold lettering almost glowing in the late-day sunlight.

“That’s the one.”

“I’ve only been here a week, but I have to say, your coffee seems to be legendary around here.”

“Well, you’ve tasted it.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “It’s good.”

He cocked his head. “Good?”

“Yep. I like it.” She pointed to an item on the menu. “Have you had the steak tips?”

He paused, detecting a tiny tic at the corner of her lips. Instead of answering, he casually sat back and crossed his arms, waiting.

She perused the menu, eyebrows up, even humming a little, but finally she broke into a broad smile.

“Fine. It’s nirvana. Nectar of the gods. My life is forever changed by your coffee, and when I go home, I’d like to discuss franchise opportunities. Better?”

He laughed out loud, uncrossing his arms. “Much.”

“So now can you tell me about the steak tips?”

“They’re not as good as my coffee.”

She shook her head. “Is anything as good as your coffee? In your mind?”

“Nope.”

“Healthy ego. Check. So how are the steak tips?”

“Go with the lamb.”

She shook her head. “I can’t eat anything that Mary brought to school one day.”

“But you’re okay with cows?”

“Cows are decidedly not adorable.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Have you ever looked into a cow’s eyes?”

“Have you?”

“Not my point.”

“No.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ve never looked into a cow’s eyes.”

“Obviously, if you’re ordering steak tips.”

“Fine. You have a cow thing. I’ll order the pork chops.”

He sat back like he was appalled. Totally faking it, but it was fun to see her reactions. “Don’t let the Whisper Creek women catch you doing that.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” She laughed. “Fine. I’ll have the vegetarian lasagna.”

“Good choice.” He signaled the waitress and gave their orders, then raised his water glass to hers. “But next time, get the steak tips. They’re amazing.”