Page 30 of Jasper
“You ever think about meeting them?” he asks.
Confused, I ask, “Meeting who?”
“My parents,” he states quietly. “Our baby’s grandparents.”
I straighten, more than a little surprised that he’s bringing this up so early in the pregnancy.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’d love to meet them.”
I don’t hesitate for even a moment because I love my gran with all my heart, and I want that for our baby. Having active grandparents is such an enriching experience. Mine took me on summer vacations, came to all my special events, and made themselves available when I needed emotional support. I was devastated when my grandfather died. But my grandmother continued to be there for me, even when she was mired in grief.
His expression lights up. “When do you wanna do this?”
“Anytime is good for me, especially in the evenings, since I usually work the day shift at the diner.”
“You got a day off today?” he asks.
“Work’s been slow recently. But I’m sure it’ll pick up again soon.” I force a breezy smile on my face, not wanting him to see how worried I am about the lack of a steady income—a situationthat just got a whole lot worse since my boss told me he’s going to have to let me go at the end of the month. Jasper’s already done so much for me.
“Is tonight too soon? My family is excited because this will be the first grandchild.”
My heart beats a little faster as I nod. “No, it’s not too soon at all. I’d love to meet them.”
I gaze at him as he tells me when to be ready and that he’ll take me with him when the roof is finished. Truth be told, I also want to know more about the world our child is coming into. I want to understand him better, to know where he came from, and who shaped him. Meeting them doesn’t feel like an obligation. It feels necessary, in order to know what I’m getting myself into.
***
After he leaves, I clean up my kitchen and give myself the rest of the afternoon to get ready. After showering and fixing my hair, I rummage through my closet, settling on black dress pants and a black sweater twinset I haven’t worn in a while. I smooth my hair down, slip on a pair of gold hoop earrings, and choose my black kitten heels. It’s a quiet, polished look. I’m not sure what his parents are like, but I want to make a good impression.
By the time the sun’s gone down, the noise from the roof crew has faded. I hear them talking outside, laughing with joking tones. Although I can’t make out what they’re saying, I imagine they’re congratulating each other on a job well done or making plans to get together for a cold beer.
The house is quiet again. Then there is a knock at my door. I open the door to find him standing there, still damp fromcleaning up with my water hose for a second time today. I look past him to see his bike has two helmets, one hanging off each handlebar.
He pauses, just staring at me for a second. His gaze sweeps over me, and something changes in the way he’s standing. His tongue comes out to slide against his bottom lip as his eyes trail back up my body.
“Is everything alright?” I ask.
“Yeah, of course it is. You ready to head out?” he asks.
I nod, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, of course I am.”
He gives me a lopsided grin. “Think you’re funny, don’t ya?”
“I feel like I could be if I properly applied myself,” I reply lightly.
He steps back, and I follow him out to his bike. He helps me onto the back and shows me how to put the helmet on and snap it down tight. Then he gets on in front of me. I slide my hands around his waist, trying my best not to overthink having my hands on him. It’s for safety, I tell myself. His hand drifts back to land on my leg as we settle in. It seems like a gesture meant to be protective and soothing.
We take off into the sunset. The sun is already down, but there’s still a blaze of color on the horizon.
Chapter 12
Jasper
The moment we pull onto the main road, my world narrows down to the asphalt, the cool night air, and the weight of her body pressed up against mine.
This is the kind of experience that sticks with a man—the first time he puts his woman on the back of his bike. I know that I shouldn’t think of her that way, but I almost can’t help myself. Being this close to her only cements that right feeling of being with her in my gut. My jaw almost dropped when she opened the door, and I saw what she was wearing. In my world the women generally wear as little as possible—bootie shorts, tube tops, and platform shoes. I’m a man, I won’t lie and say I never look. But seeing Tessa dressed up all classy to meet my mom and dad touches something inside me. And feeling her body press tight against mine as my bike hugs the corners does something else to me, to the extent I need to adjust my jeans.
As we ride, the air is cool enough to lift the sweat off our skin. The dying rays of the sun still light the edge of the skyline. My engine rumbles steady beneath us, sending vibrations up through our bodies.
