Page 67 of Jasper
After we’re finished, he asks, “Have you given any more thought about us?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “I thought we were giving this a go.”
Just like he typically does, Jasper lays it all out on the line. “Yeah, we are giving it a go. But the thing is, I’m ready to start talkin’ about taking some steps towards commitment.”
My heartbeat speeds up, as I ask, “What kind of steps?”
“Well, maybe it’s time I met your gran. I don’t know if nice ladies like yourself approve of property cuts, but I want something tangible that marks you as mine.”
I probably should be offended by him wanting to mark me as his, but I’m not. I think it’s all kinds of sweet. “Your mom is a nice lady, and she has a property cut.”
He jolts forward, getting really excited fast. “You’d really wear my property cut?”
His expression is so hopeful that it tears a gigantic hole in my heart. “I think you really need to think about what you’re doing here. Property cuts lead to engagements which eventually lead to marriage.”
“I’m ready for commitment,” he assures me.
“Let me finish. Your family life and club life are all bound up together because that’s the way Rock set his club up back in the day. You’re gunning for club president. If we end up together, that means I would eventually step into Queenie’s role, which is a huge responsibility.”
The expression on his face is one of complete shock, like he’s considered how I would fit into his life but not into his club. “So, the way I see it, you have to decide if I have what it takes to run the clubhouse. And if I don’t, it would be better for you to rethink a long-term or permanent relationship with me.”
“Fuck all that. If you’re my old lady, every single person in this clubhouse will treat you like my queen, or I’ll show them the door so fast it will make their fuckin’ heads spin.”
I raise one hand and press it against his chest. “It’s not just if people will listen to me. It’s about if I have the mental fortitude and emotional resilience to handle club life or if every little thing is going to send me into a tailspin.”
“You’re a good woman. I’ll be there for you every step of the way. If you have problems with club life, we’ll face them together.”
“Queenie earned their respect,” I point out. “If prospects have a proving period, then so should I. Although I won’t be joining the brotherhood, I still need to prove that I can be the woman you need. All the club girls seem to think that being your old lady lands them on easy street. I think it’s just the opposite. Running the clubhouse is a huge responsibility. Whoever ends up in that position needs to prove she has the right skills and temperament for the job.”
He’s quiet for a long time, and I can see his little hamster wheels turning in his head as he works through the problem I just presented him with. After a full ten minutes, his expression shifts to one of determination.
“You’re right. We all need to prove ourselves, at least to ourselves. I’ll put you into my property cut, and you can start working side by side with Queenie.”
I relax against his chest, relief flowing through my body. “If this thing between us is going to work, I have to be all in or all out. There’s no other way.”
“If at any point you don’t feel like you can handle it, or if anyone flat out refuses to follow your directions, let me know. They need to see us as a working unit.” His voice is stern, with a steely edge to it.
“I’ll come to you if I have problems, and you can feel free to ask how things are going. I’ll always be honest with you.”
We carry all the things into the small guest room which will become the nursery and get started organizing. I don’t realize how long we’ve been working until the light in the hallway shifts. Time moves strangely here. Everything is either urgent or at a slow, leisurely pace.
After everything is in place, we stand at the doorway.
“Looks good,” he says proudly.
“It does,” I reply.
Jasper turns around and glances towards the door. He grew up here and is attuned to his environment. He can pick up sounds I can’t, like the almost imperceptible creak of someone walking up the stairs. Someone’s coming. I see it in his body language before I hear the knock, which comes as one hard rap and then two seconds later, another.
He walks over and cracks the door open without a word. I stay where I am, pretending to organize a stack of blankets, though I’m listening hard.
The voice on the other side is low, male, and young. That tells me it’s a prospect.
“Sorry to interrupt, boss. Onyx asked me to pass this to you. Said it couldn’t wait.”
Jasper takes something from him. It looks like a folded note. The prospect disappears without another sound.
Jasper closes the door with more force than necessary, the weight of it thudding into the frame. When he turns back around, whatever peace we built this afternoon is already starting to slip from his face.
