The Rivals of Copper County (Copper County #2)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

JASPER

“Nicely done, Jasper,” I whispered as my former best friend and once-upon-a-time first crush disappeared out the door. An ache settled under my breastbone, and I rubbed it absently. “Another failure. At least you’re consistent.”

I’d daydreamed about a reunion with Watt Bartlett many times since I’d left Copper County nearly twenty years ago.

In the earliest versions of the dream, it would happen after I’d accepted my Academy Award for Best Actor after I got randomly discovered (as you do) in Los Angeles. Watt would somehow appear backstage, hazel eyes glowing with pride and smiling the special smile he’d only ever smiled at me. He’d engulf me in a backbreaking hug before kissing me soundly, then promptly confess his undying love.

Later, when I’d been around long enough to know undying love was a fantasy, I’d imagined coming back to Copper County as the wealthy, successful partner in a modeling agency. I’d planned to shower Uncle Abe and Aunt Mabel with riches to thank them for their years of unfailing support. I’d known Watt had gotten married and had a family, but I’d dreamed of him greeting me with that same warm smile that let me know he still gave a shit about me after all these years.

By the time I’d crossed the Copper County border a few days ago, my heart sore with the knowledge that Abe and Mabel wouldn’t be at the campground to greet me, my body tired from three days of cross-country driving, and my post-divorce wallet nearly empty, the only part of the dream I’d clung to was Watt’s smile.

I sucked in a shuddering breath and let it out again, hearing my mindset coach’s voice in my head. “ Your breath is your anchor. Recenter.” But I wasn’t entirely sure how to recenter myself if my last and most fiercely guarded dream was gone, too.

In none of my imaginings had Watt—still rawly beautiful and somehow more unconsciously sexy than ever—looked at me like I was patient zero in a zombie apocalypse, gasped in horror, and fled the scene.

Given what had happened the last time I saw him, though, I probably should have expected it.

Maybe I should have focused a little harder on the specifics of how I’d make amends for throwing our friendship in a wood chipper one sunny afternoon a billion years ago and a little less on the happy ever after.

At the very least, I should have spent the last two thousand miles thinking up something better to say than a wet-cardboard-nothing like, “How have you been?” As my college theater teacher had told me repeatedly, improv was not my strong suit.

“Sir? Um… sir? Excuse me.” The teenage cashier dipped her head into my line of sight, and I realized I was still staring at the damn door, though Watt was long gone .

I quickly slapped on a smile to hide the fact that I’d been hollowed out. “Sorry… what?”

“I said that’ll be forty-three sixty-seven,” she said. She eyed Watt’s abandoned grocery cart. “Unless… Did you want me to add those?”

I frowned in confusion. If I’d wanted more groceries, wouldn’t I have gotten them? But then I realized that she meant buying them for Watt —the kind of friendly gesture that was such a part of Copper County and so foreign to the life I’d been living recently.

I wasn’t sure what part of my interaction with Watt (let alone the heap of paper turkey carcasses littering the floor behind me) suggested Watt would appreciate the friendly gesture and wouldn’t, say, greet me with a Walking Dead- style stake to the brain, but… but maybe it could be a peace offering.

An opening.

A second second chance.

The beginning of me making amends.

“You know what? Yeah. Add them in.” I stacked the rest of Watt’s groceries on the conveyor belt. “Great idea.”

“Nice of you,” the cashier commented, giving me a dimpled grin that showed off her cheek piercings. “I’m Liza. You new in town or just visiting?”

Exchanging personal info in the checkout line? I don’t think we’re in Los Angeles anymore, Toto.

“Uh… A little of both?” I tilted my head from side to side. “I’m?—”

“Jasper?” a female voice shrieked. “Oh my heck!”

I turned to find a woman in bright pink had frozen, stock-still, at the end of the checkout lane, her hands pressed to her cheeks in a comical show of surprise.

“You probably don’t remember me,” she began, brushing a nonexistent strand of hair from her face coquettishly. “It’s been ages?—”

Even if I hadn’t remembered her face, I’d have remembered that falsetto shriek from my summers on Copper Lake. I pulled out my brightest smile. “Kayla. Kayla Tartaglione.”

She beamed. “You do remember. But it’s Kayla Milley now.” She held up her bare left hand and—there was no other word for it—giggled. “Ditched the husband, kept the name.”

I managed a short laugh. “I get it.” Better than she knew.

“So how long are you in town?” she demanded. “Will we have time to catch up? Are you visiting… oh .” Her pretty face crumpled. “Oh, gosh, listen to me. You must be here to settle Mabel’s estate. I was so sorry to hear about her passing. She was a sweet lady.”

My throat went hot and tight in an instant. I kept on smiling, though, past the dull, hollow longing in my chest at Watt’s rejection, past the guilt and self-recrimination over Mabel that made my stomach churn. If there was one thing I’d learned over the years, it was how to fucking smile.

“She was the best,” I agreed softly. “I’ll, uh… I’ll be in town for a while, actually. Until the new year, at least. The house is going to need some work before it’s ready to sell, and Mabel had a lot of collectibles to sort through. I figure I owe it to her to do the job right.”

This was partly true. Unbeknownst to me, Mabel’s house hadn’t been lived in for years or maintained in a decade, and at some point before that, her collections of teacups, kaleidoscopes, and figurines had gotten way out of control.

Like, Hoarders -level out of control.

And no, I hadn’t known that, either.

The full truth—that I wasn’t just a terrible great-nephew but also a nearly penniless idiot who needed to regroup before I could head back to LA and reclaim his life—was nobody else’s business.

“Oh, this is so exciting.” Kayla’s eyes gleamed. “You’re as gorgeous as ever, you know. And you must have so many modeling stories. I bet you’ve been everywhere and done everything.”

My smile slipped for an instant before I righted it. If only Copper County had been hiring washed-up models. Or ex-modeling agency managers. Or, hell, anyone with business management skills at all. “Ha. Well. I don’t know about every?—”

“I can’t wait to hear all the details,” she insisted, grabbing my arm. “ All the details. We can have lunch. No! Dinner .”

Back in LA, this would have been a meaningless offer, which I would have accepted without hesitation, knowing it would never actually happen. We would air-kiss goodbye and never think of each other again.

I vaguely recalled, though, that in Copper County, agreeing would be tantamount to signing my name in blood… or possibly posting the banns for our upcoming nuptials, depending on how the gossips spun it.

I scraped my bottom teeth over my lip and responded hesitantly, trying to remember how to communicate in a language I’d once spoken fluently. “Uh. Thank you. So much. For thinking of me? But I’ll be working most days?—”

“No way! You’re working here ? Are you shooting a campaign for something big? Can you share details?” She fairly vibrated with excitement. “Jasper Wrigley, local celebrity?— ”

“No,” I said firmly. “Not that kind of job. I haven’t modeled for a while.” Not since I’d agreed to start “our” agency with my asshole ex. “And it’s Jasper Lancaster, technically.” I held up my bare left hand just as she’d done. “Ditched the husband, haven’t quite ditched the name yet.”

“Oh.” Kayla blinked. “ Oh .” Her smile dimmed for half a second, like she was recalibrating, then brightened again. “Right. Got it. You know, if you’re looking for a date, I have lots of gay friends.”

Liza and I exchanged a look, and she rolled her eyes slightly before ducking her head to hide her smile.

“Thank you,” I told Kayla solemnly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“M’kay, well… I’ll let you finish up. But welcome home, Jasper,” she said as she headed for the back of the store. “Everyone’s gonna be so excited you’re back.”

Not everyone was. Not the most important person. But I couldn’t deny Kayla’s words were nice to hear. This reunion had gone leagues better than the last.

That was what we called progress .

“Um, that’ll be one hundred sixty-seven dollars and twelve cents,” Liza informed me.

My eyes bugged. “How much?” I shook my head. “Never mind. It’s fine.” I swiped my card and tried to ignore the pulse of anxiety as I calculated the balance of my checking account.

Peace offerings weren’t cheap, right?

The important thing here was to not panic. Not about Watt and definitely not about money.

Panicking caused a person to do all kinds of stupid stuff like, say, not call their best friend because they didn’t know what to say… or get drunk and let their modeling agent blow them when they found out their ex-best friend had gotten ma rried… or not do their due diligence when divorcing their modeling-agent-turned-husband, only to learn the asshole had been steadily siphoning clients from their co-owned agency to the business he’d started with his new client-turned-lover… that kind of thing.

I did have a job, so I’d be getting a paycheck soon enough, as long as I made sure the nice folks at Camden-O’Leary Regional High School didn’t realize quite how much “on-the-job training” I was gonna need.

And since I was planning on being in Copper County for a few months, I’d have another chance to reconnect with Watt. Hopefully, lots of chances.

As I hefted the groceries through the sliding doors at the front of the store, I took a deep breath and tried to settle myself. I’d never been in Copper County—or O’Leary, technically, I supposed—in autumn before, and it definitely didn’t suck. The whole town smelled like a Yankee Candle and looked like a Hollywood soundstage where the scene notes read “small-town autumn.” I half expected to hear a harried director yelling, “More leaves! I need more falling leaves over here, people!”

There were worse places to hibernate while I got my life in order before going back to LA. In fact, I had an opportunity to reinvent myself in Copper County. To be a more logical, rational Jasper.

I might not have the first clue how to do that, but “fake it ’til you make it” had always been my motto. Determination was the key.

When I got to the parking lot and found Watt Bartlett standing one spot over from my car in front of a Bartlett Estates truck, though, my determination guttered out like a candle, and my stomach clenched with nerves.

Peace offering , I reminded myself. Make amends.

I took another deep, steady breath and prepared to offer a friendly greeting as I handed him his very expensive protein powder and frozen berry mea culpa…

But then I accidentally noticed how Watt’s hip was cocked so his jeans pulled tight against his ass, how one enormous, dirty hand was braced on the truck’s open hood, and how his biceps flexed against the confines of his shirt while he glared aggressively at the engine. All my rational, logical thoughts got lost in my churning blood, and what emerged from my mouth was a flirty, provoking…

“Want me to jump you?”

Watt wheeled around, eyes wide and panicked, like I wasn’t just out to infect him with the zombie virus but shake him down for his lunch money, too. “What? No!”

“I meant jump your battery,” I explained patiently, though my eyes might have rolled a little. “Does it need a charge?”

“Hell no. My battery is perfectly charged, thank you very much.” Watt’s cheeks went red. “I… I mean, this truck’s brand-new, and anyway, the interior lights are on. It’s not a… a battery issue, and my battery is none of your business.”

My eyebrows winged up. “Oookay.”

Part of me wanted to teasingly ask if he could say battery a couple more times, but no. Bad Jasper. I wasn’t supposed to be provoking; I was supposed to be peace offering.

I owed Watt that much, I really did.

I shuffled the grocery bags and stepped closer, appraising the engine. “Could be the alternator. Or a fuel pump problem?” I hadn’t the first clue what either of those things looked like, though I knew all too well how much they cost .

“I know cars, Jasper,” Watt scoffed. “I’ve been working on them all my life, remember?” He caught himself, like even saying those few words had been a bridge further than he was willing to travel. “I’ve got this, thank you. You can leave.”

The words like you left before were unspoken, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t imagining them. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, not sure what the hell to say.

There were a lot of things I regretted about the way I’d left Copper County all those years ago.

I hated how it had happened—my mother showing up unexpectedly and insisting that we had to leave right then, immediately, not in five minutes, now .

I hated why it had happened—my parents’ relationship had limped along for nearly nineteen years, so it seemed ridiculous that it ended with my mom’s high-drama flounce to the West Coast.

I hated when it had happened—like, within fucking seconds of me kissing my best friend… if you could call it a kiss when it was mostly me accosting him and him windmilling his arms in shock.

But more than any of that, I hated the way I’d reacted afterward. I hated that I hadn’t gotten his number from Mabel and apologized from the airport, that I hadn’t found his email address and sent an electronic apology, that I hadn’t mailed a fucking apology postcard or sent an apology Pony Express from Los Angeles.

And really, I supposed I could start by saying any or all of that.

“Watt,” I began. “I wanted to say…”

My shopping bag slipped, and I nearly fumbled it. Watt stepped toward me to catch it, but when I managed to save it on my own, his eyes widened, and he took a giant step back like he couldn’t believe he’d voluntarily entered my space.

I huffed out an annoyed breath, pulled out my keys, and dumped the bags in my back seat. “I don’t actually have the zombie virus, you know.”

He scowled. “Huh?”

“Nothing. Look…” I slammed the door shut. “I’m trying to tell you, I?—”

“Wait, hold up,” Watt demanded, flushing an even deeper red. “This is your car? This is?” His eyes roamed over my Jaguar’s pristine blue finish. “Fuck you, this is my car.”

I straightened defensively. “Uh, I assure you, it’s not. I bought it myself and put a ton of work into it. The paint and top are custom.” I mean, technically, I hadn’t done the work, but I’d signed the five thousand dollar check to Tito “Topper” Guttierez at Topper Auto Care, so potato, po-tah-toe.

“You know what I mean,” he insisted. “This is the car I always wanted. It’s a Jaguar XK. You know— knew —this was my dream car! We talked about it?—”

I snorted. “Whoa there, big man. Riding the ego wave much? I recall I said I wanted this car. You might have decided later that you wanted one like it… cough- copycat- cough, but it was definitely my idea.”

Watt produced an outraged squawk that was incongruous with a man so tall and vast. “Your idea? You don’t know shit about cars. You wouldn’t know a supercharged V8 from a standard inline six,” he scoffed. “You don’t deserve this much horsepower.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again because, gallingly, I had no clue what he was talking about.

But facts had no place in this conversation any more than they ever had, and I felt myself falling into our familiar rhythm. This was a language that came naturally to me. One that had been written on my bones when they were still young and soft.

“I know plenty about cars. Plenty. For example, I know I look hot as shit driving this bad boy.” I leaned against the Jag and folded my arms over my chest. “And if you’re the car guy, why am I the one who has a functional vehicle right now? Maybe you don’t deserve that much horse-powder.” I nodded at his truck.

Watt sucked in a shaking breath, his hazel eyes alight. I couldn’t tell if he was about to burst into laughter or if I was going to watch him have a heart attack in real time. “It’s horse power , asshole.”

My face went hot. “That’s… what I meant.”

“Sure. So diagnose my truck for me, then, Car Whisperer.” He thrust out an arm toward the hood. “Let’s see those mechanic skills in action.”

Adrenaline rushed and fizzed in my blood like a shot of caffeine. “Pfft. Unlike some people, I don’t need to show off my skills for others?—”

Watt leaned in, close enough for me to get a whiff of coffee and cinnamon and apples. It made my stomach curl with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. His mouth twisted up in an impression of a smile, and then he said the four words that had always been my personal kryptonite, my Achilles heel, and my biggest turn-on… at least when they came from him.

“I. Dare. You. Jasper.”

There was nothing I could do after that, obviously. The die was cast. Because I had never, not once, backed down from a dare when Watt Bartlett challenged me. And whatever else had changed in my life since I was seven-fucking-teen… that, apparently, had not .

“Fine, then. Prepare for humiliation.” I lifted my chin and pushed him out of my way before hauling myself up into the driver’s seat.

“One of us should be prepared,” he said under his breath. “One of us definitely should.”

The apple-cinnamon scent was stronger inside the truck, but I ruthlessly ignored it and tried to concentrate on the things I knew about motor vehicles.

There weren’t a lot.

I’d seen four tires, so that probably wasn’t the issue. I put my foot on the brake and pressed the Start button, hoping for the best, but the truck just chimed a warning at me. I knew trucks— most trucks? definitely some trucks—needed gas, so I quickly checked the display. No gas light, but…

Aha .

I hopped out. The second my boots touched the ground, I dusted my hands and felt a curious kind of lightness bubble up inside me. “Got it.”

Watt lifted his eyes to the pristine blue sky. “Fuck off.”

I didn’t have to try to smile at Watt. My smile—okay, fine, my smirk —just came naturally. I leaned in, the way he’d done to me earlier, and whispered, “Missing. Key.”

“Missing…?” Dumbfounded, Watt looked from me to his truck and back. “Don’t be ridiculous. This truck doesn’t need a key. As long as I carry the fob right here in my…”

He patted the right pocket of his pants and scowled. He patted his ass, patted his chest, patted his left pocket, and just when I thought he might strip down for a cavity search—not really, but a man could hope—he let out a frustrated growl that made goose bumps dance down my spine. “ No .”

Score one for team “fake it ’til you make it. ”

“So, what should my forfeit be? Hmmm.” I tapped my lips.

Watt ground his teeth together so aggressively I hoped he had his dentist on speed dial. “We didn’t specify a forfeit, therefore?—”

“Therefore,” I interrupted, “per the Rules of Engagement According to Watt and Jasper, Circa 2003, it should be my—” I broke off as a high-pitched shriek filled the air.

Both of us startled and turned simultaneously.

“Oh my heck, if it isn’t the two handsomest men in Copper County! Watt, there you are! I was calling out for you earlier, but you disappeared. Oh, look! You found Jasper!”

“More like he found me,” Watt muttered.

She stepped between my car and Watt’s, a key fob dangling from her finger. “Honey, I think you dropped this.”

Honey ? Was she talking to…

Oh .

I hadn’t been aware just how much I was enjoying the silly interaction with Watt, just how light and buoyant I’d felt, until that one little word sent a pinprick of jealousy straight into my chest, puncturing my happiness balloon.

What the hell am I doing?

I wasn’t seventeen, joking around with my best friend. I didn’t have a best friend anymore. And I sure as hell had no right to be jealous now… not that I ever had.

I didn’t know anything about Watt’s life these past twenty years beyond the simple facts Mabel had volunteered: his marriage, his kid, his divorce, and his orchard. I didn’t know his friends or his hobbies. I didn’t know who he was dating.

I wasn’t being rational or logical right now, and I hadn’t been making amends. I’d been on the fast train to delulu land.

“Dave found it under the pile of paper turkeys,” Kayla was saying. “And Liza said you’d lost your balance.” She petted his arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Watt’s jaw flexed. “Fine,” he said gruffly, reaching for the keys.

Kayla took a step back, keeping them just out of reach. “I was just telling Jasper I really wanted to go out to dinner and catch up while he’s in town. Wouldn’t that be amazing? You and me, and Jasper and… ooh, what about Oliver Castillo? I think Jasper and Ollie would really?—”

“No,” Watt said, the single syllable ringing with finality.

For once, the two of us were in perfect agreement. I assumed Oliver was one of Kayla’s many “gay friends,” and the idea of a double date with her and Watt was somewhere on my personal must-do list between bamboo torture and self-immolation.

Kayla frowned. “No? But… Oh, right .” Her expression cleared, and she smiled knowingly. “I forgot about this thing between you two.”

“What thing?” I demanded, suddenly wondering how my voice had gotten so high. Was I somehow emitting Watt-seeking pheromones? Could she smell them? Could he ?

“There’s no thing between me and Jasper,” Watt said flatly.

“I mean the way you loathed each other back in the day. Always bickering and squabbling, daring each other to do things, getting each other in trouble.” She laughed lightly. “The Rivals of Copper County, we used to call you.”

Watt’s gaze met mine, but I quickly looked down at my boots.

Oh. So… not the pheromones, then .

Was that how Watt remembered our friendship? To me, bickering and squabbling had been my immature flirtation game, and dares had been our love language.

I rubbed absently at my chest. “That was a long time ago,” I offered.

“Ancient history,” Watt agreed.

“We’re all adults now.” I set my hands on my hips. “We’ve matured.”

“Some of us, anyway,” he said under his breath. He cleared his throat and said more loudly, “I mean, yes. Adults.”

Since my hearing was fucking excellent, I gave him a scathing glance. “And as an adult,” I told Kayla, “I can get along with anyone… no matter how rude or arrogant or dismissive he might be. There’s no animosity between us, is there, Watt?”

“Nope.” Hazel eyes met mine in challenge. “In fact, there’s nothing between us at all anymore, is there, Jasper?”

I plastered on my model smile. “Not a single thing,” I lied.

Watt nodded once. “And that’s how it’s going to stay.”

He grabbed his key fob from Kayla’s hand, thanked her, and climbed into his truck. “Gotta go. Errands,” he said when she protested. “See you later.” He pulled out of his spot like he was fleeing a horde of the undead.

Or just one zombie in particular.

I kept my easy smile firmly in place as I waved goodbye to Kayla, got in my own car, and headed out of O’Leary toward the single loop road that fed tiny Copper County—the collection of homes clustered around Copper Lake.

I couldn’t lie, I was feeling pretty fucking deflated… while also irrationally angry.

Did I have any right to be upset that Watt seemed determined to avoid me? Obviously not. It might be argued that I’d low-key avoided him for twenty years.

Did that mean I was okay with it? Also no.

And I wasn’t one to give up without a fight… as my ex-husband would soon find out.

Watt could be angry or even hate me a little, but the idea of him ignoring me was unacceptable.

“And that’s how it’s going to stay,” I mocked, imitating Watt’s deep voice.

Pfft . We’d just see about that.

I had amends to make, damn it.

It wasn’t until I’d passed the turnoff to Bartlett Orchard and was halfway down the driveway to Mabel’s place that I realized I still had Watt’s fucking peace offering tucked in my back seat… and then I laughed out loud, knowing exactly what I was going to do with it.

“Game on,” I whispered.