Hostile for the Holidays

12. Jasper

TWELVE

JASPER

I close the door behind me and slip off my shoes. I’m about to head upstairs when I hear a sound in the kitchen.

I find Juniper there making a snack.

“PB&J with potato chips. You want one?” she offers.

“Hell, yeah.” I pull up a stool and start making a sandwich. Once the peanut butter and jelly are spread, I put a handful of kettle cooked potato chips on one side, then layer it with the other piece of bread.

“What’s really going on with you and Stella?” she asks. “I thought this wasn’t a real relationship, but I just saw you kissing her outside.”

“It’s complicated.”

She laughs. “Hasn’t it always been with you two?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. What’s been going on with you?” I ask, feeling like we haven’t had much time to catch up since I got home.

“I had finals last week. The next month is finalizing my business plan for the bookstore before the spring semester starts.”

Juniper reads a ton of books. Like one every day. It’s fascinating. She’s got a huge following on social media and posts about romance books there. Now she’s months away from opening her own romance bookstore here in Cedar Hollow.

“That’s awesome.”

“The problem is I’m great at business classes, but applying it in the real world feels daunting. Do you have any advice, from one entrepreneur to another?”

“Surround yourself with people who know what they’re doing.”

She laughs. “There’s no budget for that, yet.”

An idea forms in my head.

“You should talk to Liam. He knows all about the business side of things. I’d be lost without him, as a business partner and a friend.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

“If you need anything, you’ll let me know? Financial backing. Tech support. Anything.”

She nods, but we’ve already had this conversation and she wants to do it all on her own. She’s ambitious, but I know exactly what that’s like. I was doing the same thing when I was her age.

We finish our sandwiches and make our way upstairs. I give her a hug at the landing, then we part ways to go to our rooms.

“Hey, Jas,” she calls, stopping at her bedroom door. “I have confidence you and Stella are going to work out.”

“How do you know?” I ask.

“Because you deserve an HEA.”

“HEA?”

“Happily Ever After.”

“Thanks, Juni. I sure hope so.”

“I think something about your kiss altered my brain chemistry. I’ve never had a sex dream before last night.”

I slam on the brakes.

“Jesus, Stella. That’s not what I was expecting at seven-thirty in the morning.”

She shrugs before taking a drink of her coffee.

“We’ve always been brutally honest with each other, so I figured there’s no point stopping now.”

“That’s true.”

“Thanks again for the coffee. How did you know what I wanted?”

I give a casual shrug, wondering if I’m prepared to be as honest as Stella. Her boldness comes from a place of surprise, but the feelings I have for her have been buried under a rock for over a decade. They’re not as easily coaxed into the light when I’m uncertain if she’s ready to hear about them.

“It’s a pretty generic order.”

“A Venti Caramel Macchiato with two pumps of vanilla, extra caramel drizzle, three shots of espresso, almond milk, a pump of toffee nut syrup, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon powder?”

“Okay, I asked Sadie last night. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I’m surprised you went to that much effort. I’d expected you to get me a black coffee and tell me it’s the color of my soul.”

I lift my cup in her direction. “Touché.”

She laughs, loud and carefree. And fuck if I’m not enraptured by the moment.

Stella St. James laughing in my passenger seat is something I could get used to. The last time she was sitting there we were negotiating a fake dating arrangement.

She’s dressed in dark jeans and a cropped red sweater. Her blonde hair is tied halfway back with a big white bow. Another pair of glittery holiday earrings hang from her lobes. Today they’re candy canes coordinated with her sweater and bow. She looks like a candy cane. She looks good enough to eat.

I’m debating asking her details about her sex dream because we might end up in a ditch. That would be unfavorable with the day I have planned. All I know is it better have been me servicing dream Stella or I’ll fucking pull this car over right now and make damn well sure she knows who she belongs to.

“You were saying about your dream?” I coax, knowing I won’t be able to focus if I’m running every possible scenario in my head.

“You were in it.”

“Damn straight,” I mutter.

“What was that?” she asks, distracted.

“Go on.”

“You tied me up,” her eyes flick over to me before adding, “You were rough with me, but I liked it. A lot. I’ve never had hate sex but I imagine that’s what it was between us. Pent up frustration from all the years of competition.”

I clear my throat, the crotch of my jeans much tighter than it was a moment ago. I’m going to need to calm down before we get to the warehouse.

Stella’s quiet until we come to a stop at a street light.

“Jasper, have you had sex dreams before?” she asks.

I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, quite a few.”

I pull into the parking lot of our destination.

“Hmm. Any of particular interest?” She wiggles her brows.

I let her question hang between us as I navigate my vehicle to a parking spot and turn off the engine. With an arm draped over the steering wheel, I turn in my seat to look at her.

“Stella, are you asking if I’ve had a sex dream about you?”

She licks her lips, her boldness from earlier lessening a notch. “Maybe.”

“Let me tell you a little secret,” I motion her closer with a crook of my finger and she leans in conspiratorially. “They’ve all been about you.”