Page 32 of Sweet Little Thing

He didn’t look happy about that change. “Work? Is it more than you expected?”

The corner of his mouth tilted up as he looked at me and replied, “Yeah, it is.”

I nodded my head in understanding. “What would make you happy? If not a party?” I wanted Jasper to be happy. It was odd how that became important to me. I just didn’t know what to do to make that happen for him.

He said, “Something I don’t deserve.”

That wasn’t an answer. Not really. I waited, thinking he’d say more. Jasper changed the subject: “Eat. Get full and rest. And don’t come upstairs early. Sleep in and try to recover. When you awaken, you’ll have new tennis shoes. I’m sending for them in the morning. And some socks. Good thick socks. The kind that feel so damn good you don’t want to take them off.”

I laughed. “Okay, but I have socks. You don’t have to get those.”

“You don’t have these socks. You need them. They’re required.”

I started to argue about not needing socks, and then he cut meoff, “Beulah, let me buy the socks. I may need to purchase every pair they have. That’s the only way to make the pain in my chest ease whenever I look at your feet.”

My heart squeezed, then did a little flutter. Jasper was caring and showing his concern, which made this worse, and my feelings for the man grew. I wanted to tell him he needed to stop. Quit being so kind. But I couldn’t. I replied, “Okay. Thank you, Jasper. I appreciate this.”

He gave me a relieved smile. “Goodnight, Beulah. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” I replied. Then I watched him leave. Long after he was gone and the food was finished, I lay in bed still grinning. This thing in my chest, it felt warm, like sunshine. Jasper made me feel all kinds of new things.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Jasper

“You’re making a mistake.”

Stone was probably right. I just didn’t give a shit. I’d fought this all I could. Last night, when I heard that the bartender had asked her out, I had seen red. Full blown jealousy. Following that up with seeing Beulah hurt…that shit had physically pained me. I had wanted to be the one to help her, save her, make her feel better. Me. I wanted her to need me.

“I bought her shoes. She needed them.” I spoke to Stone while getting some cheese from the fridge, last night over and done with.

“She’s still asleep because you told her to sleep. She’s an employee. You’re not treating her like one. You’re blurring the lines, which in my opinion, is a fucking nightmare waiting to happen. It was already brewing, and now you’re speeding that shit up.”

I wasn’t going to do anything to hurt her. After last night, Iknew I wouldn’t hurt her because I wouldn’t be able to survive it.

“I’m helping her. She’s hurt, and I’m showing compassion. Get some. It’ll do your cold heart good, and God knows you need fucking help.”

“This isn’t about compassion. It’s about the fact you’re attracted to her. I get that. She’s gorgeous and has the whole ‘damsel in distress, sweet thing’ going for her. You want to save her. Be a fucking hero. It won’t end well, and you don’t need the distraction.”

Too late. I was officially giving in. Thinking about another guy asking her out and touching her made me feel insane. No need to tell him that. It would trigger a ranting lecture, and my ass would be ridden for days. “Are you hungry, Stone? We’ve got some good stuff in here,” I said, changing the subject.

“What the fuck ever,” he replied with frustration. “I can’t save you from yourself. I don’t have the time to try. I’m going to go get the shit done that needs to be done, and then, I need some space from all this. You jump off that cliff if you want to. But while you’re making mistakes, try not to crush her in the meantime. She’s not like the others, which is why you’re so attracted. It’s new. . .different.”

I didn’t respond. Finished what I was doing. When he started to leave, I said, “Stone, I won’t hurt her. Hurting Beulah is the last thing I would do.”

He paused but didn’t look back at me. “You won’t mean to. Sometimes that makes it worse.”

Then he left. Saying nothing else.

I stared at the door leading down to her room. Last night I’d gone to the yellow guest bedroom to think about moving Beulah up there. Near me, in a real bedroom with a decent bathroom and tub. By the time I’d finally fallen asleep, I’d decided it was a good idea. Though now, I was debating it. Was I about to blur the lines or erase them completely? Beulah needed someoneto depend on. I wanted to be that someone. I had to be that someone. If any other guy tried, I might kill him.

I had thought I was done with relationships. Maisie had been a terror, every horror a relationship could be. She was exactly like my mother. Selfish, vain, demanding and a cheater, needing men to want her constantly. She was completely fucked in the head. When she’d broken things off, she wanted me to beg and grovel at her feet. I’d felt like throwing a motherfucking party. Being rid of her and a life I didn’t want was the best thing that had happened to me until the present. Beulah had made coming back here bearable. And now, she was in the room.

“I didn’t set my alarm. I slept later than I thought I would.” Beulah’s voice was soft and somewhat husky from sleep. I was deep in thought and hadn’t heard her climb the stairs.

“You needed the rest,” I replied, looking down to see she was wearing the socks I’d brought to her last night. “I got you some new shoes. . .and also socks, just like I promised. Until you go somewhere, only wear the socks. You look good in them.”

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