Page 43 of Jasper

My breath stutters. My fingers tense against his chest as I manage to whisper, “I’m sorry. I… I won’t say something like that again.”

And just as quickly, his arms are around me. Strong and sure.

He pulls me into his chest like he’s done it a thousand times before, like I’m supposed to be there. He strokes my back slowly, grounding me, and then he presses a kiss to the top of my head—gentle, reassuring,safe.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs into my hair.

And that’s when it happens.

The rest of the world softens. My limbs go heavy. My mind goes quiet.

I feel myself slipping.

Not falling. Not breaking.

Just… letting go.

Deeper.

Safer.

Right into Little Space.

And I’m not afraid.

* * *

The sun feels magical on my face as I step onto the porch. It’s quiet out here, peaceful in a way that makes my chest loosen. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. Probably not since I lived on the farm with my foster parents.

I need the fresh air. I needsunlight.And I don’t get that from my camper.

After sitting on the steps for a few minutes, I find myself wandering down the path, no real destination in mind. Just moving. Just breathing. Jasper said I could go anywhere on the property within the outer paved pathway that connects all the houses. Apparently, beyond that, there are multiple traps and man-eating bears. His words, not mine.

In the distance, I hear voices and the clang of metal. I glance up and spot Jasper and Cassian near one of the garages, both of them leaning over the hood of my beat-up car. It must’ve gotten towed back without me knowing. If I’ve learned one thing about Jasper, he does things without saying anything. I think it’s the controlling side of him. The side that is growing on me more and more.

Cassian’s gesturing to something under the hood while Jasper nods, arms crossed, brow furrowed in concentration.

I smile to myself before turning away, letting them do their thing. It would be pointless to tell them that they don’t need to try to fix it because like Jasper, the rest of the men in his family are also bossy, and they’re going to do what they want even if I tell them not to.

One of the paths leads me toward the center of the property, where I find a few neglected rectangular garden beds, three in a row. The weeds are out of control. The dirt is cracked and dry in spots. But I can see the bones of it—the layout, the potential. Like someone had an idea but then decided it wasn’t their thing and hasn’t touched it since.

I kneel down without even thinking. My fingers dig into the soil, fluffing the surface, tugging at stubborn weeds. The dirt works its way under my fingernails and streaks across my palms, but I don’t care.

I’vemissedthis.

Being close to the earth. Feeling it crumble between my fingers. Letting my mind go quiet as I work. My foster mom used to call me her hippie girl because I loved walking around barefoot so I could feel like one with the ground. There’s just something about it. Dirt and plants and fresh air. I could spend hours out here and never get bored. Especially in a place like this. Among the trees and mountains and blue skies. It’s heaven on Earth.

I don’t know how long I’m out here before I hear the familiar sound of boots crunching behind me.

“Rainbow,” Jasper calls.

I look up and see him approaching with slow steps, a smirk playing on his lips. A genuine smile spreads as I wave at him, flinging dirt as I do. I giggle and shrug, almost feeling high from being out here.

“You’re filthy.”

I grin. “I know.”

He chuckles, stopping at the edge of the garden bed, and folds his arms. “Knew I’d find you out here eventually.”

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