Page 12 of Forever After Fall

Except for one thing. The realization hits me out of the blue.

My mistake was genuine. I truly thought it was Jasper. But Anson knew it was me and kissed me anyway. Not just kissed me, but touched me, licked me, ran his hands all over my body, knowing full well it was me. My heart flutters again in my chest, but this time it echoes in my stomach and reverberates over my nerve endings. Each one lighting up like a spark as I recall the way it felt. He felt. He touched me willingly. Eagerly.

Does he—my thoughts stop dead in their tracks.

I’ve forgotten his secret. His doing all of that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He helps women all the time as a matter of course. It doesn’t mean he feels anything for them. He’s just patient and kind. Charitable.

A chill follows the same line down my spine that the flutter of interest had.

What if it wasn’t confusion on his part or even interest? What if he just thought I was coming on strong, and he was just trying to be patient and kind about it? I could have been nothing to him but a poor bridesmaid in need of comfort.

I groan as I walk into the restroom and set my purse on the counter to pull out my makeup. Only one thing is for certain. I have a lot of sleepless nights in my future. I’ll be tossing and turning. Restless for hours. Reliving everything and wondering how the hell we got here.

SIX

Anson

“I need to talk to you about the project at Bull Rush.”

Jasper sits down in the chair in front of my desk bright and early on Monday morning. I haven’t even had time to drink the coffee that’s going lukewarm in my oversized Best Dad in the World mug. Another reminder of Bristol I don’t need, because while the gift was technically from Ford on Father’s Day years ago, we all know it was Bristol who spent time tracking down a version that had a wrench and hammer crisscrossed under the festive declaration.

“Is it on schedule?” I ask, trying to stay focused on the task at hand rather than drift off to worries about this past weekend’s wedding mishap.

“It is. All the supplies are ordered. I’ve got a couple of guys assigned to help with everything. Mika has the project number you wanted them paid out of, by the way. But she wants to verify whether you want to pull it all from there or if you expect to pull funds from the general account too.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I confirm. “So what’s the issue?”

The project is my wedding present to Hazel and Ramsey, and the funds are being drawn from my private account at the construction company. One I reserve for pet projects and pro bono work we do for some of the nonprofits in town. We’re remodeling the old foreman’s place into a haunted house, as well as setting up a maze and a few booths for the vendors who are planning to be at the ranch for the fall fest. Once it opens in a couple of weeks, it’ll run every weekend through Halloween.

“I need to know if you can put a different lead on it. I’ll switch places with whoever you need me to.”

Jasper never pushes back on his project assignments, but given he’s one of my longest-serving employees, I give him a little more latitude than I might someone else on the crew.

“Something going on?” I can guess it has something to do with Bristol, since I passed the two of them kissing in the hall just minutes after she’d been with me, thinking I was him. But considering things looked like they were back on track and he hadn’t punched me the second he walked into the room, I can’t imagine the problem.

“Well, I haven’t taken any vacation days yet this year, and I was going to take a few days this week.”

I raise a brow. Jasper is a little bit chaotic. Like my brother, Bo, he still lived like his 20s were never going to end. But usually, it didn’t spill over into his work schedule. A hangover here or there on a holiday weekend, but even that he usually planned for.

“Not great timing. But not a problem. I’m sure we can make do without you for a few days.”

“I’d rather not come back to the project either.” He shifts in his seat, and whatever this is has him obviously uncomfortable.

“Why not?” I ask, reaching for fucking straws as I try to make sense of why he wouldn’t want this project.

“Personal reasons. I’ll shift with whoever wants it. I’ll take one of the projects no one else wants. That new apartment development or the reno with Mrs. Van der Kamp.”

My brows knit together. Now I know something’s fucked. No one volunteers to work with Mrs. Van der Kamp. She hovers. Cajoles. Complains. Micromanages until you’re ready to pull your hair out. But she owns half the businesses downtown, and she pays well for the trouble of dealing with her, as she puts it, high standards. Regardless, there’s no fucking way he’s volunteering for that.

“You cross one of the Stocktons?” I joke. He’s not as close with them as I am, but they’ve all been pretty friendly since we were kids.

He cracks a smile, but it’s not long before it falls to a frown again.

“Nah. That’d be a little less painful. Ramsey’d just punch me and get it over with.”

“All right. I know it’s not my business, but I gotta understand why.”

He cracks his knuckles on his right hand with his left and rolls his neck, buying time like he still doesn’t want to answer. I’ve never seen him this riled over something work related, and the suspense is killing me