Page 91 of A Secret In The Garden

Feeling the firm warmth of his body holding me as I looked up and took the man in, it felt surreal. I couldn’t believe everything he’d been through, and still, he remained so strong.

I moved my legs, trying to stand. “It’s late. You’ve got to be exhausted.” I knew I was.

He didn’t let me out of his arms and continued holding me against him. I moved away. The poor man had been through enough; the last thing he needed was to take care of me. I wanted to talk to him and clear the air between us so badly, but it could wait.

“Don’t go, Eliza.” His rough whisper brushed the skin of my forehead. Not one of his stern commands but a plea. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” His mahogany eyes suddenly made him look so fragile, so breakable, and I realized that he was struggling even though he wasn’t showing it.

I needed no further encouragement. I wrapped my arms tightly around his warm neck, pulling myself up until my chest was smashed against his, my chin resting on his hard shoulder, not letting a wisp of air get between us. I was home.

He easily lifted me then and carried me up the stairs, pausing in the hallway outside of his room. He needed me tonight, and even if we didn’t have us figured out, I needed him too. We needed each other.

He walked into the room and moved to the right side of his bed, gently setting me down and pulling the cool, thick cotton sheets over me. “Thank you. For everything,” he whispered, bending down. He pressed his lips to my forehead, threading his fingers into my hairline before stepping away.

Still, in a cloudy, exhausted daze, I jumped when he tossed a pair of boxers and a T-shirt on top of my legs. “Close your eyes,” I whispered.

He glared at me but didn’t say a word. I waited until his back was to me, pausing to be a hypocrite and staring for a second when he pulled the shirt over his head and revealed his broad, muscular back.

“Okay,” I said with a small smile once I was changed and had thrown my clothes off my side of the bed in a pile. The locket clanked against the floor from inside my pocket. Shit. I needed to return that to Hester somehow. After a moment’s thought, I decided that I would just leave it in Jasper’s room. It wouldn’t make any sense to him, and he probably wouldn’t realize it was his mother’s…

Maybe I should just tell him and risk him being upset that I took it from her. He’d probably think I was an idiot for not realizing her body was buried there after I pulled her locket from the soil—something I had been struggling with feeling myself lately, though I supposed I could cut myself a break for not assuming a garden was the resting place for a corpse.

Jasper lay down, wearing only plaid boxers, causing the bed to dip slightly.

He slid under the covers, pulling the white, airy comforter up to tuck us both in. The room was dark, causing everything to be painted a dark blue where the lights from the night sky illuminated it. Jasper tucked his hand under the side of his face, mirroring me. For a while, we simply soaked in the closeness of the other, the comfort of knowing we were together in the same space again.

“I’m sorry.” I broke the comfortable silence, my words barely a whisper.

His brows pulled together. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Little flecks of light were reflected in his eyes.

He was being kind. I had a lot to be sorry for.

“I thought you did it,” I confessed with a heavy heart.

“A lot of people did.” He rolled onto his back.

I pushed up on my elbows and leaned over him, forcing him to look at me. “It’s not okay. I know you. I know it’s not been a very long time, but I know you, Jasper. You’d never hurt anybody you care about even though you want people to think you’re tough and uncaring; I know that’s not true. I let the rumors sway what I knew. I’m sorry.”

His eyes turned on me. “That’s not true at all; I would hurt anybody who ever made you sad.”

I blushed at his words and the serious look on his face. “Thankfully, that’s not true, or you would be very busy, I’m afraid.”

He leaned up to get closer to me. “Yes, it is true, Eliza. I meant what I said before. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again, and if by some minuscule chance I can’t prevent it, I promise you, I will hurt them far worse—by any means necessary.”

His threat whispered across my lips. Somehow, we had gotten so close that I could see the little dots of stubble beginning to form on his cheek and chin.

His dark eyes locked on my lips.

I wanted to kiss him so badly, but I didn’t want it to be while he had a cloud of confusion in his mind from such a chaotic night. It wouldn’t be wise to complicate things before we knew where each of us stood.

“You’re probably exhausted,” I breathed, feeling my own breath ricochet off him in warm puffs.

“I’ve been tired for a long time.” He laid back down, facing the ceiling.

My head pressed against the pillow, I faced him, taking in his handsome features, the flexed muscles of his arms behind his head.

“For twenty years, I’ve held nothing but hate for my mother, and this whole time—” He closed his eyes tightly, and his jaw hardened. “She didn’t want to leave me. She never wanted to leave me. She told me goodbye and that she was going somewhere I couldn’t go.” His voice broke, and a tear fell from the outer corner of his eye down onto the bed.

“I’m so sorry.” I moved closer to him, stroking his hair, unable to keep myself from touching him. My heart ached for what they all had gone through. To see the powerful man so vulnerable and hurt was shattering me.