Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(52)

I stop my lip from trembling. Barely. He brushes the pad of his thumb over my mouth, as though sensing the movement.

Lucky sucks in a breath.

My grandmother had plenty to say about my manners, and so had my husband. No matter how I’ve tried to leave my past behind me, I know my trailer-trash upbringing still shows. It makes me self-conscious about every reference, every turn of phrase, because despite all the books I’ve read and the study I’ve thrown myself into, it’s those small, habitual slips that will always betray me. That will tip off my betters that I am poor, and lazy, and ill mannered, and whatever other attribute they choose to ascribe to me for the past I can never change.

Jasper is as calculated and wealthy as Henry’s family was. He’s the man Henry always strived to be. Articulate. Assured.

Intimidating.

Of course he sees right through me.

Of course he’s disappointed by what he sees.

The years since my husband’s death crumble, and all at once I’m the insignificant, lonely girl who so desperately craved his approval.

I tear away from his penetrating gaze, lowering my eyes. “Yes, Jasper.”

I know this part. I play it as well as any actress.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I won’t embarrass you.

I’ll be good, I swear.

Jasper stills. His stare is intense. Finally, the grip on my chin gentles. After a long moment, he makes a sound of frustration in the back of his throat and drops his hand.

“It seems I’m on a roll today,” he mutters, sounding unhappy. “That will be a problem.”

Of course I am.

I keep my mouth pressed shut, but the sudden sting behind my eyes surprises me—as does the waver of my lip that, this time, has nothing to do with arousal.

You don’t need them, I remind myself fiercely. You can leave at any time. You’re a survivor now. You’re not that same girl anymore.

God, how is it that in one week among people, all my insecurities have returned so viciously? I hate this. Hate the unsteady ground I’m walking on here. At least with Henry I knew the rules.

Why do I always seem to be living by someone else’s?

I work to keep my face smooth as I stare at my feet, but tension knots my shoulders.

“Jesus, Jasper,” Lucky mutters, “the lot of you need to back the hell off her so she can get her shit together. Between Jaykob hulking out and throwing her against walls and you going full sadist, she’ll be completely warped. Let me show her how to have a bit of fun before you start stripping her raw. Please? Just back off of us for a while?”

Full sadist? Stripping me raw?

Despite myself, my gaze once again lifts and slides between the two men. The little comments over the last few days start to make sense. I turn the label over in my mind. Sadist.

Jasper doesn’t respond right away. That chilling, deadly stance returns as he faces Lucky; it would look almost lazy, if not for the treacherous tilt to his mouth.

Lucky gives an uncomfortable roll of his shoulders under that stare, grimacing. The flush deepens over his cheeks.

He spares a blue-eyed glance at me, then sighs, setting his feet reluctantly, as though it physically hurts to set himself against his friend.

“You owe me,” Lucky finally says in a low, serious voice.

Something silently passes between the two men. After a long, tense moment, Jasper inclines his head. “Very well.” Then his eyes narrow and his voice becomes granite. “Though don’t presume, Lucien, that there is any debt between us. We both know better than that. I have never taken more than was offered.”

I am most certainly not being told everything.

As Lucky’s face turns scarlet, Jasper looks at me, and the bright, proud insolence from moments before dims back to his usual detached elegance.

“I apologize, Eden. That was impolite of me. Would you please join me for chess tomorrow? To be clear, you are under no obligation to do so. I would simply enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

Frustration and embarrassment make me want to flee to my room. Maybe even from the house. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.

“Eden?” he prompts, and this time his voice is soft, gentle as the brush of a feather.

When I look up, his face is lined with deep remorse. It soothes some of the sting, but none of my confusion.

I manage a nod. “Yes. Of course. Thank you.”

“I had better get back to work. Have a good afternoon.”

With a nod to each of us, he stalks back to his not-so-secret secret study. Lucky and I both stare after him, red-cheeked, as he leaves.





Chapter 16


Lucky


SURVIVAL TIP #212

Laugh when it hurts.

Tears will only dehydrate you.

I turn to see Eden’s bewildered expression just as the books start slipping from her arms. I catch them, helping to steady her, then snicker, trying to put Jasper’s last comment to me from my mind.

“Weight of the world, huh?” I tease.

Her brow wrinkles. Then she looks at the atlases atop the towering pile and rolls her eyes. We set them on a table, and she worries her lip over the disorder. She’s every inch the librarian today, and damn if it doesn’t leave me hard as a rock.

“What—?” she begins and then stops, flustered.

“Ah.” I rub a hand over the back of my head, wondering how much she picked up on, how much to explain. My T-shirt lifts with the motion, and I pretend not to notice when her eyes light on my bared skin. Smugness makes me want to grin, settling some of my stomach-aching jealousy, though I wish to hell I didn’t have to be the one to try and explain Jasper to her.