Page 22 of Intrigued
Spencer smirked. “Why? Do you want to go first?”
“Do you think this is a fucking game?” Jasper pointed a hand at me. “Have you ever heard of her?”
“I’m not the one who has to run for president,” Spencer replied.
Has to?
“Quiet, Spencer.” Jasper flew out of his seat and glared at me. “He’s off the fucking table. He’s a fucking loose cannon. And we get to protect ourselves. You got that?”
I was about to ask what in the hell he had to protect so much, but then it dawned on me that Jasper’s overreaction had nothing to do with his claim, especially when he pointed to me and said, “You talk to me first, after breakfast.”
I gulped. My heart was beating out of my chest as I visualized just how that talk was going to unfold. I couldn’t speak; all I could do was nod.
“Here’s one for you, Holly,” Asher said. There was a certain energy in his voice that told me he was going to say something Jasper wouldn’t like. “In our family, we have a brother who likes to fuck the other brothers’ girlfriends.”
He said brothers, plural.
Spencer slouched in his chair. “She’s a prostitute, Ash. She was never your girlfriend.”
“She’s my girlfriend now,” Asher whined. He was twenty-nine like Bryn and me, but he came off as someone ten years younger. I wondered what had stunted his emotional growth. Regardless, I made a mental note of the spat going on between the brothers.
“Hey, give it a break,” Jasper roared. “Could we sit here and behave like adults for once? Father’s dying.” He raised his hands and shook them. “What if none of this shit existed anymore? What would you do?” He looked primarily at Bryn, who watched him like a deer trapped in headlights.
I took a mental note of that too.
Just then, the food service began. The chef announced a breakfast of eggs Benedict with sweet Christmas ham, oven-roasted garlic potatoes, country butter, and cheese biscuits.
I couldn’t believe Jasper had wanted me to miss this breakfast. My mouth watered as the servers set one of the plates before me. This was how ultra-rich people ate. Every morning, I made myself oatmeal with apples and pecans sautéed in cinnamon and honey for breakfast. My usual was indeed healthier, and I typically monitored how much of the bad stuff I put into my body, but there was no way to resist the meals that were coming out of the Christmases’ kitchen.
The first thing I bit into was the biscuit.
“You like that?” Jasper asked.
I didn’t realize my eyes were closed until he spoke. I opened them, still chewing. “Umm… yes.”
He nodded sharply then looked down at his plate and coughed.
“As I was saying, Holly,” Asher said, “you should probably ask Spencer why he’s the way he is, sticking his dick in all my girlfriends.”
Spencer laughed with an edge. “Girlfriends? How did you meet these girlfriends? Plus, I don’t stick. I jab. I ram.” He winked at me, and I curved my shoulders as I frowned squeamishly.
Jasper pounded the table, and everything on it quaked. “Enough!”
“Listen, Jasper,” Bryn said in a voice of reason. “Holls is not here to exploit Spencer and Asher’s tragic sex lives.”
“True,” I said before taking a bite of the sweet Christmas ham drenched in Hollandaise sauce. “Rich people having sex with strippers, prostitutes, and Marilyn Monroe lookalikes is not what makes a story.”
Bryn chuckled. “I know, right? Who in their right mind walks around looking that way?”
Since I was chewing, I raised my eyebrows in consensus. I caught Jasper licking his lips as he watched me. I found it strange that no one seemed to pick up on the sexual cues he was throwing at me. I made a mental note of that as I took my next bite.
“A woman that’s not afraid to eat—that’s sexy,” Spencer said.
I swallowed. “Here’s what I would like to know.” I turned to Bryn. “What are you doing these days?”
Her smile wavered. “What do you mean?”
“You never came back after our first year of college, and you never said why.”
