Page 36 of Jasper

“Salad isvegetables.” Rowie sounds like she’s informing me of a horror movie plot. “Vegetables are icky.”

Jasper’s full attention shifts to me as I laugh.

“I actually love veggies.” I smile shyly. “I used to have a whole garden. Grew everything myself—carrots, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers. There’s nothing better than a salad straight from your own dirt.”

Ember shudders dramatically. “That soundsawful.”

Rowie groans. “Too green.”

Theo laughs and rolls his eyes, while Cage raises an eyebrow at Ember, who shrugs.

I giggle as Jasper sits back, watching me.

His eyes are warm, proud.

When I finish my second helping of salad, he leans in close, his breath brushing against my ear.

“You’re a very good girl for eating your veggies,” he whispers. “I’m proud of you.”

My entire body warms at the words because while I loved every bite of my salad, even if I hadn’t, I would have still eaten it just to hear him say that.

* * *

After everyone finishes dinner and helps to clear the table, Jasper places a gentle hand on the small of my back and steers me toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go feed your rodent.”

I laugh as we step out into the cool evening air and head to his place, which is only a short walk away from the main house. When we reach the front door, he unlocks it and pushes it open, motioning for me to go in first.

The second I step inside, I freeze.

It’s… beautiful.

Not in a modern, sterile kind of way, but warm. Masculine and structured, with dark woods, soft leather, and touches of comfort in the worn-in furniture and shelves filled with books. Why doesn’t it surprise me that Jasper reads? On the outside, he doesn’t look like the type to ever pick up a book, but once you talk to him, it’s obvious he’s intelligent and intellectual. It even smells good in here. Like fresh linen, wood, and leather.

“I didn’t expect this,” I whisper.

Jasper arches a brow. “What? You think I live in a cave?”

I smile. “I don’t know… maybe a military-grade bunker.”

He smirks and flicks on a few more lights. “We have one of those underground, but it’s beyond military-grade. Come on. Let’s find the rat.”

Unable to stop myself, I laugh and smack his arm playfully. “He’s not a rat. He’s a cat, and you’re going to hurt his feelings if you keep calling him a rodent.”

Jasper snorts and leads me around.

As we walk through the house—living room, kitchen, hallway—I notice how tidy everything is, but not in a cold or obsessive way. It’s just… cared for. Like everything here has a place. Like someone actually lives here and loves it. Definitely not what I expected.

For half a second, I picture myself curled up with a blanket on that couch, watching movies for hours while rain falls outside. Safe. Cozy.

Then I shake myself.

Temporary, I remind myself. This is only temporary.

We find Fluffy on a windowsill in the living room, looking about as grumpy as ever. As soon as he sees me, he jumps down and starts meowing insistently.

“Fluffy!” I drop to my knees, reaching for him.

Jasper barks, “Careful!”

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