A Very Perry Wedding by Marie Landry
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“What a day.”
I whisper the words to myself as I step onto the back porch of our rental house. After our emotional moment in the park when Gwen and Evan arrived, Jasper slipped into business mode, directing the couple toward the gazebo and giving them pointers about posing. Although he asked me to be his assistant, there wasn’t much for me to do other than occasionally move props or help to pose Gwen and Evan. For the most part, I stayed out of the way and watched, grinning uncontrollably until my face ached.
We packed it in shortly after sunset. Jasper called Liam, who suggested we meet for dinner at the restaurant across the street from the park. We wandered around Main Street while we waited, and I fell completely in love with Honeywell just from the small part we saw. The town truly is like something out of a Hallmark movie, with twinkling lights flickering on all over town at dusk, and autumn decorations lining the streets and adorning the fronts of all the adorable shops and eateries.
“You should see it at Christmastime,” Evan had said, laughing at the way Gwen and I were gushing and pointing things out every few feet. “You’d think you’d blinked and ended up at the North Pole. Even I was blown away, which is saying something considering how Jasper goes all out every Christmas.”
Over dinner, Liam told us more about Honeywell and its businesses and residents. I couldn’t help thinking how he was my usual type: charming, open, friendly. He asked all of us questions about our lives and seemed genuinely interested in our answers, especially when I told him about Cravings. Despite all of that—plus him being easy on the eyes and a bit flirty with me—my attention kept returning to Jasper all through dinner.
Now we’re back at the rental house, where we’ve been for the last hour or so. I thought Gwen and Evan might want some privacy since things have been so chaotic for them these past few weeks, but Gwen suggested we open a bottle of wine, and Evan set about starting a fire in the living room fireplace. Gwen and I snuggled together under a blanket on the couch while the guys took the armchairs across from us, and we enjoyed each other’s company along with the wine Mrs. Murphy left in our welcome basket. Between the alcohol, the fire, and the way Jasper keeps catching my eye and smiling softly, my face has been flushed for the past hour. When Gwen said she needed a bathroom break, I took the opportunity to excuse myself and step outside.
The brisk air is doing a good job of clearing my head and cooling me off—both my overheated face and my hormones. Marisol was right a few weeks ago when she said Jasper was like an onion. I’ve seen so many different sides of him—overly formal and stiff, vulnerable, thoughtful, overprotective, attentive, self-deprecating, gentle—and I’m still peeling back those layers. Seeing him so relaxed and open today, smiling and genuinely happy, cemented my feelings for him.
Tonight has felt like the best kind of dream. It’s been easy to imagine Jasper and I are a couple and this is how we’d spend our evenings.
The porch door creaks open behind me. My heart leaps, hoping Jasper has sought me out for a moment alone. A rustling sound precedes a blanket being draped over my shoulders, and I catch Gwen’s sweet, flowery scent.
“I’ll go back inside if you want to be alone, but I was worried you might freeze out here,” she says. The way her eyes search my face makes me feel exposed, as if the myriad of thoughts and feelings swirling around inside me are painted all over my face. When she reaches to tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear and then cups my cheek with her palm, I almost lose it.
Unable to speak for fear the torrent of emotion will burst from my mouth, I step back and hold out one side of the blanket. Gwen ducks in beside me and we squish together, arms around each other’s waists.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Gwen says, resting her head against mine. “I told Evan I’d like to come back around Christmas and he promised to make it happen. Maybe the four of us can come again.”
I laugh lightly. “Maybe.”
“It could happen. I saw the way you and Jasper looked at each other today. You’re not the only one who’s feeling something.”
“I wish I could see what you see,” I tell her with a sigh. Needing to change the subject so I don’t analyze things to death, I ask, “Are you ready for this weekend?”
“Smooth, Willow.” She bumps her hip against mine. “Am I ready? Yes and no. I’m one hundred percent ready to marry Evan. I can’t wait to be his wife and I have zero doubts about spending the rest of my life with him. As for the wedding itself? I’ve done everything I can, and Ivy is doing a bunch of behind-the-scenes stuff this week. I’ve never been so glad to have such a small family and circle of friends. I don’t know how people do big weddings with hundreds of guests.”
I shudder dramatically, sending vibrations through both of our bodies until we’re giggling. “Have I told you lately how happy I am for you?”
“Yes, but tell me again,” she says.
I chuckle. “I’m so happy for you. Evan is a wonderful man and it’s clear the two of you are meant for each other.”
“You deserve that type of happiness too, you know.”
I nod slowly. “I’m finally starting to believe that.”
Gwen’s arm tightens around me. We stand in silence, our faces turned up toward the sky. In the three years I lived in Toronto, I’d almost forgotten what stars looked like. Even in Bellevue, there’s enough light pollution to prevent more than a few of the brightest stars from being visible. But here in Honeywell, the sky is blanketed with twinkling lights, and the sight of it fills me with wonder.
When the door opens behind us, I assume it’s Evan coming to reclaim his fiancée. I stay where I am, closing my eyes and soaking in the last few moments of silence and the warmth and closeness of my dear friend.
Gwen’s body shifts slightly away from mine a second before she says, “Good timing, I was just about to go back inside. Why don’t you take my place and keep our girl warm?”
My eyes pop open. Over my shoulder, I see Jasper hovering in the doorway. I expect him to say it’s too cold out or he’s heading to bed. Instead, he smiles and steps outside.
“Okay, Cupid,” I whisper to Gwen as she kisses my cheek and takes a step away from me, holding out her end of the blanket to Jasper. The wicked grin on her face is as visible as the starry sky.
“Today was absolutely perfect, and I can’t thank you enough,” she says, kissing Jasper’s cheek as he grips the edge of the blanket. “Both of you. Enjoy the peace and quiet because this weekend is going to be hectic.”
“And amazing,” I say.
“And amazing,” Gwen echoes with a smile. “Love you both. Evan and I are going to go to bed now, and we’ll see you in the morning.”
We say good night and Jasper joins me under the blanket. With his added height, it doesn’t go all the way around him the way it did for Gwen. He makes a little sound of dismay that has me biting my lip to hold in laughter. The warmth of the blanket disappears and then returns as he rearranges it to cover both of us properly. I think he’s going to leave his arm pressed against mine, but he wraps it around me.
I’m grateful for the silence that follows as I have a mild inner freakout at our proximity. The freakout intensifies when Jasper’s warm, solid hand slides further around me and settles on my hip. I want to angle toward him so he’s holding me properly, but I content myself with resting my head on his shoulder.
“Did I hear you calling Gwen ‘Cupid’?” he asks. “Does she think you and Liam would be a good match? I can attempt to set you two up if you’d like. He’s single, and he seemed quite taken with you at dinner.”
A war between laughter and tears rages inside me. I want to laugh because Jasper is so clueless. And I want to cry because how is Jasper so fucking clueless? How? The war stretches into wondering if I should go along with his assumption and let him think I was talking about Liam. I’ve never been one to play games, though. It’s one thing to keep my feelings to myself; it’s another thing entirely to outright lie. This is my opportunity. Despite telling Gwen I would wait, this chance has been handed to me and everything inside me is urging me to take it. And praying it doesn’t end in disaster.
“Actually…” The word comes out shaky, so I clear my throat and try again. “I meant that Gwen was playing Cupid for you and me.”
At Jasper’s silence, I pull back to peer at his face. Confusion flits over his features, followed by understanding, and then surprise, all in quick succession. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, even though I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind as that big ol’ brain of his pieces things together.
Just in case he’s still leaning on the side of clueless, I decide to make things perfectly clear. “I like you, Jasper. A lot. And I don’t just mean as a friend, although you’ve become one of my closest friends in a very short amount of time. It’s more than that for me, though. Don’t you know that by now?”
His continued silence makes me squirmy. I have to fight the urge to either run inside or give him a gentle shove and hope some words fall out.
Finally, in a whisper-soft voice, he says, “I had…hoped?” He clears his throat and swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing at my eye level. “I’m not very good at this, Willow. I figured I was misreading signals and seeing what I wanted to see…”
“Well, let me clear things up for you.” I turn to face him, the blanket slipping from my shoulders. His fingers go limp, causing the blanket to fall to the ground where it pools around our feet. I grip his shoulders and lift up on my toes, putting my face level with his, our mouths only inches apart. I wait, giving him a chance to move his head aside or step away from me. When neither of those things happen, I inch closer and brush my lips against his, just the barest touch.
He sucks in a sharp breath. That, paired with the way his hands clutch at my hips, is all I need. I press my lips to his, harder this time. I nearly expire on the spot when his tongue sweeps over my bottom lip. My lips part, fingers digging into his shoulders as our tongues meet and entwine. He tastes like the wine we were drinking, paired with a hint of the apple crumble he had for dessert.
I don’t even realize I’m all but devouring Jasper until he pulls back slightly, placing soft kisses on and around my lips. With a sigh, I press myself closer, releasing my vice-like grip on his shoulders, and sliding my hands up his neck and into his hair. This seems to do something to him because he releases a quiet moan and deepens the kiss once more, pulling me even closer.
I’m dazed and wobbly when our lips part, as if I’m coming out of a deep, dream-filled sleep. His hands remain on my hips, holding me steady. My eyes open slowly to find his dark, serious gaze studying my face. With his kiss-swollen lips and disheveled hair—both courtesy of me—he’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I remember our first encounter and how, despite not being my type, I thought I wouldn’t mind mussing up this prim and proper man. Who knew how incredibly wrong I’d be about Jasper Perry not being my type.
“Willow,” he says, his rough voice sending shivers across my heated skin. “Let’s go inside.”
Disappointment rushes through me. “Oh. Yeah, I guess we should, it’s getting cold out.”
Jasper’s hands drop from my waist and he takes a step back. “I meant…I thought…”
“What?”
Normally, flustered Jasper is one of my favorite versions of Jasper. Right now, though, with his deep blush and the way he can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands, it makes me want to reach for him and calm his nerves.
“I got swept up in the moment and was being presumptuous,” he says. “I was thinking about something my brother said earlier about being impulsive and throwing caution to the wind and—” He flaps his hands between us before shoving them in his pockets. “But we’ve only just kissed and it’s too soon to…to even think…argh.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and covers his face. This whole thing would be adorable if he didn’t appear to be in genuine distress.
He jumps when my fingers circle his wrists to gently pry his hands from his face. “Jasper.” I kiss him lightly, keeping my eyes open enough to see his eyes go wide. “Did you mean you wanted to go upstairs? Together?” His mouth opens as if to speak, yet no words come out. I take a step closer and grip the front of his sweater, pulling him to me and covering his mouth with mine. That seems to shake him from his stupor. He responds immediately, kissing me back with fervor as one hand cups the back of my head and the other grips my shoulder.
I break the kiss, still clutching the front of his shirt. “Do you want to go upstairs?”
“I do,” he says without hesitation.
I scoop up our fallen blanket from the porch before taking Jasper’s hand and following him inside. It’s dark except for a faint light glowing over the stove. Jasper locks the door to the porch, and then tells me to stay put while he makes sure the rest of the house is locked up. For a moment I think he’s stalling, giving himself time to think of a polite way to back out of this without hurting my feelings. Then I remember this is Jasper. A man who knows my fears—the extra locks on my apartment door, my aversion to the dark—and the fact he’s doing a sweep of the house makes me want him even more.
When he returns, he takes my hand again. The stairwell is dark and there are no lights coming from upstairs, so Jasper pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight app. Without speaking, we both instinctively turn for my room since it’s the furthest from Evan and Gwen’s.
At my door, he pauses and whispers, “Do you have a nightlight?”
I point to the bedside table. “I only got as far as getting it out of my bag.”
He ushers me into the room and closes the door before passing me his phone with the flashlight still on. In a few quick strides, he’s across the room, turning on the bedside lamp and searching for a place to plug in the nightlight. I’ve wandered over to the bed by the time he returns to take the phone from me.
When I reach to shut off the lamp, Jasper takes my hand. “Leave it on. I want to see you.”
Oh.So this is really happening. We’re doing this. Apart from trying not to swoon over Jasper’s thoughtfulness these last few minutes, my mind has been mostly blank. I’ve been afraid Logical Jasper would make an appearance and say it’s too soon for us to have sex. We haven’t known each other long, we haven’t talked about our feelings for one another.
As if reading my thoughts, Jasper sits on the edge of the bed and pats the space beside him. “Are you sure about this, Willow? I know this is all happening rather fast and if you want to talk about it first—”
“I’m sure,” I say quickly. “Are you?”
“I am. But I’m questioning why you would want to be with me when I’m so…” He shakes his head and waves a hand around as if trying to grasp the right word from the air.
I stifle a laugh. “You make me nervous too if it makes you feel any better. I’ve liked you for a while now and I don’t take this lightly.”
His eyes soften. The sweet, almost surprised smile that graces his face nearly takes my breath away. I expect him to say more. To talk about our friendship and where this might lead, how it could change things. My heart is racing and, while I wouldn’t say I’m having doubts, it occurs to me how fast this is happening. How we’re going from zero to one hundred in the span of a few minutes.
I wonder what he and Evan were talking about earlier that made Evan encourage Jasper to throw caution to the wind. Is it possible they were talking about me? About us? Evan knows how I feel about his brother…
Warm hands cup my face, startling me from my racing thoughts. “I’d love to know what’s going on in your head right now.”
Jasper knows about my anxiety and what I call my ‘chronic overthinking’. My hyperactive brain tends to be quieter when he’s around, though. I don’t second-guess every thought I have or every word before it comes out of my mouth. I hold up a finger for him to wait as I go to the ensuite bathroom attached to my room. When I was putting my toiletries away earlier, I noticed a basket of supplies on the vanity. Most of it was things you’d find in a fancy hotel—toothpaste, extra toothbrushes, floss, mini soaps—and also more personal products like pads and tampons. I go straight for the shiny foil packets, mentally thanking Mrs. Murphy, the owner of the rental, for caring about safe sex practices, especially since I’m certain Jasper’s not the type to carry condoms around in his wallet.
Jasper hops to his feet when I exit the bathroom. I join him in front of the bed and we stare at each other for a long moment, our bodies close but not touching. Finally, he says, “What do you want to do, Willow?”
I take a deep breath through my nose and release it slowly through my mouth. Jasper’s eyes dip to my lips. “Part of me wants to talk about this. About us and what we’re feeling for each other.”
He nods. “And the other part of you?”
I reach past him and set the condoms on the nightstand. His gaze follows the movements, eyes going wide when he sees what I was holding. I gently place my hands on his chest, letting them drift up until they grip his shoulders. “The other part of me wants to let our mouths and hands and bodies speak for us. At least for tonight.”
Jasper’s eyes darken. He cups my face again and the smile that pulls at one side of his mouth is completely different from any of the others I’ve seen in the last few weeks. I’m used to small smiles, often tentative ones, like he’s unaccustomed to using those particular muscles and is still getting used to them. This one, though…whoo boy. I’ve heard of panty-dropping smiles before, and this knowing, sultry smile of Jasper’s is definitely making me want to drop mine.
His hands leave my face to gather me close, strong arms wrapping around me as his mouth meets mine. I melt into him, letting my hands roam over his back and shoulders, feeling his muscles tense and ripple under my fingers. On the rare occasions I’ve allowed myself to fantasize about Jasper, I’ve imagined he’d be soft and slow and gentle. Maybe a bit timid, uncertain. That’s certainly what I was picturing earlier with how flustered he was. But there’s nothing timid or uncertain about the way he’s kissing me now.
His mouth moves to my neck, and his hot, wet kisses leave me weak in the knees. I need to be closer to him, need to feel more than the softness of his shirt. I give him another minute because he just found one of my sweet spots and then, with great effort, I free myself and take a step back, gripping the hem of his sweater. Our eyes lock as I pull the material up and over his head. My eyes lower to his chest and stomach, my hands soon following to run over his soft skin. I look up to find him watching me with hooded eyes. When my fingers trail through the light dusting of hair that disappears under the waistband of his jeans, he lays his hands over mine to stop them.
He swoops in to cover my mouth with his again. His hands releases mine, and they go back to their exploration as his hands sneak under the hem of my shirt. His fingers brush back and forth against my stomach, making my muscles quiver. I don’t normally like it when men touch my belly—it’s soft and squishy and, while I’ve come to love and accept it as part of who I am, it still sometimes makes me self-conscious—but I have no desire to brush Jasper’s hands away. I want to feel them everywhere.
Before I know it, my shirt joins Jasper’s on the floor. I wriggle out of my jeans as Jasper trails kisses over my collarbones and chest. My jeans catch on my ankles and, when I free myself to pull them off, Jasper shucks his own pants and socks.
We face each other, wearing nothing but our underwear. My eyes dip below his waist, taking in the hard outline of his cock encased in black boxer briefs. The sight of Jasper in just his underwear is sexy as hell and yet my nerves must be catching up to me because for some inexplicable reason the sight forces me to stifle a laugh. I think part of me pictured Jasper wearing tighty whities.
He must see my lips twitching because he lets out a strangled laugh. “Willow, a man doesn’t really like to see a woman trying to hide laughter when he takes off his clothes.”
I lean against his chest, hiding my face and allowing the laughter to come. “I’m so sorry. The reality of this situation is hitting me and I can’t quite believe it.”
He grips my upper arms, gently pushing me away from him. His searching look makes the giggles die in my throat. “Do you want to stop?”
The fact he’d ask me that while we’re both standing here in nothing but our underwear makes me want him even more. Instead of answering, I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of our clothes. Jasper’s eyes stay on mine for a moment, as if making sure I’m certain, and then his gaze drifts down. Heat flares in his eyes as his hands release my arms to cup my breasts.
Things become a blur of sensation at that point. The next thing I know, I’m reclining on the bed and Jasper is moving over me. His underwear has disappeared, and he peels mine off slowly, kissing my thighs and stomach and breasts, then my neck and face, before our lips finally lock once more.
His fingers move between my legs. As I writhe beneath him, he keeps his mouth on mine, swallowing my whimpers and soft cries. When I tell him I need him inside me, he takes a condom from the bedside table and rolls it on.
He braces himself on his forearms on either side of me and positions himself between my legs. “Willow,” he whispers. “We may not have known each other long, but I feel as if I’ve wanted you forever.”
My heart swells at his words, then feels like it’s going to burst when he follows them with the sweetest, softest kiss. When our lips part, I trail my fingers over his cheeks, my gaze sweeping his face. “You sure hid it well.”
His smile is rueful. “It seemed impossible that you might want someone like me or think of me in that way.”
“I want you, Jasper. I want all of you.”
And then there are no more words. I clutch at his back as he pushes inside me, stretching and filling me in the most perfect way. His movements are slow and controlled at first, and he maintains eye contact with me as we move together. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, and I know Jasper is going to have little half moon marks from my nails all over his back and ass tomorrow from my clutching hands.
We move together, picking up the pace until it’s almost frantic. When he reaches between us to touch me, it doesn’t take long before I’m throwing my head back, clenching my eyes closed, and riding wave after wave of indescribable pleasure. Jasper’s not far behind, his hips pinning me to the bed, hot breath on my neck, murmuring things my overwrought brain can’t comprehend.
We stay like that for a few moments, both trying to catch our breath. Jasper peppers my face with kisses and then pulls out of me, rolling away to take care of the condom. I slip out of the bed and grab his sweater, yanking it over my head as I dash to the bathroom. When I emerge a couple minutes later, I’m relieved and delighted to find Jasper reclining on the bed, the sheets covering him from the waist down.
“Is it okay if I stay?” he asks as I climb into bed beside him.
“Are you kidding? There’s no way I’d let you leave.” I shuck his shirt and toss it back onto the pile of our discarded clothes before snuggling against him under the sheets. His arm goes around me, and I fall asleep to the soft sound of Jasper’s breathing and the gentle caress of his fingers on my arm.