Her face fell into his neck with a sob, but she didn抰 respond.
The helplessness wrought by Rita抯 silence forced Jasper to regain power and self-respect some other way. He lunged to his feet, taking her with him. When her back hit the wall, Jasper kept pumping, trying to imprint himself on her body, inside and out. Giving up a little more of his soul with every rough movement. 揜emember how good it was. Remember who would always give it to you like this, even if it meant giving up his final breath. You hear me??
揧es,?she clenched around him, her sweet mouth falling open in a silent rendition of his name, her pussy milking him down below, so tight, so eager, there was no choice but to take his own climax, groaning into her shoulder as it drained him. They stayed that way for an unknown length of time, Jasper trying to will her into repeating back the three words he抎 let fly free of his heart. But when her legs slipped down his sides and her back straightened, she still hadn抰 said them.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rita walked on shaking legs back to the kitchen. Nothing compared to the quaking behind her ribs, though. The pounding in her head. Jasper had crucified her against that door and she hadn抰 given him what he needed梩o be crucified in return. Or maybe she had, only in a different way. A way that felt like betrayal, no matter from which angle she looked at it.
Jasper loved her. Wanted her to stay in Hurley and share his life. His livelihood. Her own life抯 recipe hadn抰 called for him as an ingredient when she抎 left San Diego. Now she was mired in that state of uncertainty, caught between the menu she抎 chosen and a new one that called to something unfamiliar and wild inside her. But the last time she抎 gone for the unknown and reached outside her capabilities, she抎 fucked up bad enough to burn down a restaurant.
Staying in Hurley would mean dropping the family she抎 only begun to win back, nixing the mission she抎 laid out for herself, and beginning new in a strange place.
As a chef, no less. She抎 fallen into a familiar rhythm immediately upon walking into Buried Treasure, inspecting the kitchen, devising plans. Simply beefing up the specials menu sent her right back to the holding pattern she抎 fled in San Diego. Now she had a chance to start over in New York, free of the failures she抎 courted by being a chef, but the kitchen seemed determined to pull her back in. Because she loved it, loved the man who抎 given her the fresh slate? Or because she didn抰 know anything else yet?
Rita entered the kitchen to find Aaron and Peggy tossing a lime back and forth. The chef clearly wanted to be irritated but couldn抰 quite pull it off in the face of Peggy抯 giggling. Sage danced into the kitchen behind Rita, catching the lime in midair and giving the two siblings a stern look before making it a three-way game of catch.
揑抦 done going through the books,?Aaron said to Rita without looking at her. 揧our boyfriend knows what he抯 doing. Low overhead. Great cost efficiency. He doesn抰 need me so I抦 here to offer my cooking expertise.?
揧ou can抰 fry an egg,?Rita pointed out.
Aaron rolled the green fruit along his shoulders, making Peggy and Sage laugh. 揑 was thinking more along the lines of official taste tester.?
A minute earlier Rita had sworn she might never smile again, but having them all in the same kitchen reminded Rita of days when Miriam would cook and they抎 all congregate around the stove, trying to steal bites of food. And something mended itself inside her chest. The only one missing was Bel?
揂m I the only one working here??Her older brother grumbled from behind her.
Aaron tossed Sage the lime, but she missed the catch because her wide gaze had fastened itself on Belmont. The fruit thudded on the ground.
Rita decided to take pity on Sage. 揌ey, what song was it Mom used to sing when trying out a new menu? I can抰 remember. 厰
搼Raspberry Beret,挃 Aaron said. 揃y Prince.?
揟hat抯 right.?Peggy hopped up on a waist-high refrigerator, ignoring the chef, who tried to shoo her off. 揈xcept she would change the words to 慠aspberry Sorbet.挃
It was well known that nary a Clarkson could carry a tune, so they all raised eyebrows at one another, waiting for someone to start. Rita went to the pantry and began pulling out ingredients, wondering if she was a lunatic for putting her dignity on the line. But a distraction from the ache in her stomach whenever she thought of Jasper was necessary, so she took a deep breath and started to sing.
Peggy joined in halfway through the first verse, her voice a much higher pitch than Rita抯。 Aaron抯 baritone was low and almost inaudible, but there nonetheless. And when Sage chimed in, Rita thought Belmont might throw himself down at the girl抯 feet, but no one expected her older brother to sing. And he didn抰。
Ingredients were diced, sauces mixed, meat prepped around the big white cutting station, each of the Clarksons梐nd Sage梖ocused on their work. The singing eventually faded away, leaving the sound of slicing knives and murmuring voices as they compared notes and talked over ideas to leave Jasper for menu changeups.
The more time passed, the more Rita began to experience a winded feeling. An impending sense of loss. Movements that were usually natural felt stiff. Scenes with Jasper filtered through her mind like sunshine through lace. Being picked up on the side of the road on his motorcycle. Dancing in Rosemary抯 kitchen. Kissing in the motel parking lot. Seeing Buried Treasure for the first time, seeing all he抎 worked for without anyone the wiser. Lying side by side in his truck bed, watching clouds shift, talking about anything that entered their minds. While she and her siblings were healing one deep-seated scar, another one was forming, making itself permanent.
And when she turned around to see Jasper watching her from the doorway, where she stood huddling with her laughing siblings, that scar deepened and gushed fresh blood. Because without saying a word, in that moment, she抎 given him her answer.
*
The dining room of Buried Treasure was full. With a line out the door. Several customers had already made reservations for the following night. Sage had started some sort of Instagram account梐lthough God knew how he抎 keep that straight when he was on his own梐nd pictures were posting steadily. Pictures of food. Food Jasper could look at and see Rita抯 touch. See the subtle changes she抎 made to give it the right flair. Even without seeing the dishes she sent out from the kitchen, he would have known they抎 have little quirks, just like Buried Treasure.
A parmesan crisp in the shape of a heart stuck in the center of mashed potatoes. Little sticks of hardened sugar bundled together to resemble firewood. She sent out little pieces of her heart on the plate, and every time one passed, another piece of his own chipped away.
His conversation with Belmont that afternoon had come into stark focus when he抎 walked into the kitchen. As he抎 stood there, watching Rita exchange tentative looks with Aaron, noticing the way she watched Peggy thoughtfully, as if dying to get inside her little sister抯 head and rearrange things. Seeing the way everyone, especially Sage, stopped on a dime whenever Belmont spoke, staring at him as if it could be the final time he ever communicated in the open. So many intricacies. So much at stake. And it was all happening right before his eyes.
Jasper had one distinct thought, directed squarely at himself:
What a selfish son of a bitch you turned out to be.
He stood in the bustling dining room, witnessing the magic wielded by the Clarksons, and still he wanted to break that chain. Take his precious link桼ita梐nd stow her away in the kitchen. A place from which she抎 only just broken free. So what if he would be standing there, right beside her. A teammate. A lover. Yeah, maybe if he got really fucking lucky, she would wear his ring one day. So what, though, when their three-day love affair couldn抰 compete with the family she was fighting to get back. With the new life梖ar from the restaurant business梥he so desperately wanted.