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Jasper kept his arm around me and guided me across the lobby, sounds of slot machines and revelry in the background only highlighted the silence between us. Once we were inside the elevator to my condo, he sighed. “I’m an asshole, Mo, I know that. But I am not a fucking monster.”
I nodded, my head down.
Jasper lifted my chin and stared at me before he brushed a hand over my cheek. “You all right?”
“Just peachy,” I sighed. “He punched me in the face, kicked me in the chest, and I hit my head; otherwise, I’m grand. No need to worry about me.” I’d have the hotel doctor look me over when Jasper was gone.
“I’m came because I was worried,” he growled. “But you don’t look too sick to work.”
I shrugged. “Thanks. I just got beat up. I’m taking a few days off. I had a doctor’s appointment and errands I haven’t been able to take care of because I’m too tired after working eighteen-hour days at Midnight Mass and Lucky Lopez.”
“We need to get you to a doctor. Find out if you have a concussion and if the baby’s okay.”
His words were gruff, but I could hear the concern. Felt myself lean into that caring voice before I caught myself and took a step back.
“I’m fine, Jasper. The hotel doctor will look me over. Just help me to my room, and you can get back to business.”
His hands landed on my shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. “It wasn’t a request, Mo.”
“I’m off the clock, Jasper, which means you’re not my boss.”
He laughed, and the sound echoed just as the elevator doors slid open on the penthouse floor.
“Haven’t you learned by now, Mo? I’m always the boss. Come on.” He hooked an arm around my waist and guided me down the hall to my condominium.
“My groceries.” The words limped out of my mouth, but it was the only thing I could think of with Jasper’s arms around me.
“It’s being taken care of.” His ominous words struck me as odd, and I stopped right in front of my door, digging deep in my purse for the keycard.
“What does that mean, Jasper? Be specific.” I had to see things because heat flared in his eyes before he banked them.
“It means they’re being loaded into my car as we speak. There’s room for them in my fridge.”
Oh no. I shook my head and put a hand to his chest. “I’m not going to Ashby Manor.” I should have been happy to finally get an invite, but I wanted to stay here in my own home. Relax. Heal.
“Yeah, you are. I’ll have a doctor meet us there to stitch you up and check you out. Pack a few things, and you’ll stay with me until we figure everything out.” Jasper used his typical commanding tone that was meant to avoid any arguments, but this was my life. My freedom.
I let out a huff. “Don’t you own the freakin’ hospital? I’m sure one of your doctor’s can see me there.”
“I do own a hospital, and I’d like it to keep its accreditation, which means my doctors follow the rules, which will mean a visit by the cops.”
“Oh no,” I said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “You don’t want the guy who did this to me to go to jail? Gee, thanks.”
“He’s being taken care of, Mo.” His voice softened, and that caught me off guard.
“Whatever. Send your doctor here to stitch me up.” I held the card up to the sensor and pushed inside my place, kicking off my shoes and removing my purse as I progressed down the hall, exhausted and aching.
“Goddammit, Mo, can’t you ever do anything the easy way?”
I let out a bark of laughter. “I do one thing very easily, Jasper, as you well know.” I stopped as realization dawned. This wasn’t about my safety, not really. This little incident gave him the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on me. “That’s why you want me at Ashby Manor.”
His shoulders rose and fell with a dramatic sigh. “And why is that, Mo?”
“You want to keep an eye on me, maybe get your doctor to get some DNA so you can figure out if this baby is yours or not?” I’m an idiot. Leaning into his touch, feeling treasured by his treatment when it was all an act. To make sure he didn’t get taken for a ride.
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“You could try being honest, a thought that probably never occurred to you. I’m not asking you to be involved. If you think I’m lying, don’t worry, you can walk away guilt-free. I’m not asking for anything from you.”
He folded his arms; a fierce, angry expression darkened his handsome face. “That’s not your call to make.”
“It damn well is,” I shot back, feeling my own anger rise. “If it’ll settle your mind, have your doctor come stitch me up, and I’ll give him permission to take my blood for testing. Or however they do it these days. Then you can get your results and leave me alone.”
