And I couldn’t be happier. My lips tremble with my suppressed smile that, if set free, would rival the sun in brightness.
Sensitive to the undercurrent, Gavin crosses his thick arms over his wide chest, his face adopting a friendly, non-threatening expression. “I got your message, mate. No worries.” He nods, holding Jasper’s eyes for a few seconds before he continues. “What brings you back into town?”
Jasper doesn’t answer right away. Rather, he looks down at me again, this time the harsh lines of his face softening ever so slightly. “Did you need something?” he asks me.
“I came in to use the restroom. This is our first stop since we left. Remember?”
He has the good grace to at least look a little sheepish. “Oh. Sorry. They’re back there,” he points out, indicating the back corner. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”
I nod and move to walk past him, but before I lose myself in the crowd surrounding the bar, I glance back at the duo. “Nice to meet you, Gavin.”
His smile is wide and immediate, and every bit as flirtatious as it was a few minutes ago. “The pleasure was all mine, pet.”
One quick peek at Jasper’s face shows that stony, furious glint in his eyes again, his mouth a hard line, his brows pulled low. It’s the most transparent I’ve ever seen him.
This time I do smile. I don’t even try to hide my pleasure. I’m rewarded with a scowl and a growling sound that’s so loud I can hear it over the music. I feel like giggling as I walk away. So I do.
As I’m weaving my way through the knot of people waiting for a drink from a couple of gorgeous bartenders, I see yet another handsome giant making his way through the throng. His dark blond head stands several inches above the tallest man in the crowd. He’s big, easily big enough to be a bouncer, but still not quite as big as Jasper.
His nearly black eyes are focused behind me as I approach, giving me a chance to take in his authoritative presence. He seems in control, in command, like he’s a master surveying all that is his. It makes me wonder if he owns the club.
When I get closer, his gaze flickers to me. He smiles and nods, to which I smile and nod in return. There’s no attraction in his expression, just a polite curiosity.
I hear a feminine voice rise above the fray, calling, “Cash!” The guy’s head whips around and I see his face soften the instant he finds the owner of the woman’s voice. I glance back to see which one holds his heart, because it’s easy to see that she does. He doesn’t even try to hide it.
I’m not surprised when I see him leaning in to speak to the beautiful brunette behind the bar. She looks as love-struck as he does and I’m aware of a pang of envy that stabs me somewhere in the vicinity of my heart. I wonder if I’ll ever find my happy ending, my Dirty Dancing Johnny, my Sixteen Candles moment. My Officer and a Gentleman exit.
I pause at the entrance to the hall that leads to the bathrooms and I glance back across the bar. I can easily make out Jasper’s head as he follows Gavin to the door. Just before he disappears into the night, he turns. As though he could feel me watching him, his eyes find mine. Unerringly, across the top of a sea of people, they click to a stop on mine. His blank expression is back and I think with some amount of dismay that, as much as I’m beginning to wish he could, I doubt that Jasper will factor into my future at all, much less in a romantic-gesture kind of way.
I shake the thoughts from my head and turn to swing open the door to the ladies’ room. I’ve got other things to worry about right now. I’ll have Jasper to mourn another day.
SIXTEEN
Jasper
I’m optimistic that Muse will keep the questions to a minimum when we’ve gone thirty minutes without her opening her mouth. But I know better. That’s why I’m not entirely surprised when I hear her tentative voice.
“Who was that guy—Gavin?”
“Somebody I work with from time to time.”
“Is he a bounty hunter, too?”
“No.”
“What does he do?”
I sigh. Loudly. “Among other things, he manages that club.”
“Ah. And what do you two do together?” I throw her a look that, even in the dark, I’m sure tells her that I’ve reached an end to my loquaciousness. I see her lips thin and her brow furrow. “Time’s up. Got it.”
Her voice is sharp with an underlying note that sounds something like hurt. I feel another stab of an emotion dangerously close to guilt. Even if I wanted to tell her everything, to answer all her questions, she’d then hate me for telling her. She’d wish she’d never asked. Then she’d wish she never met me.