Page 73 of A Secret In The Garden

I shook my head. “Staying friends is better. Right now, the last thing either one of us needs is more stress.”

He let out a long, frustrated sigh and turned around, looking like he wanted to punch something. For a few moments, the only sound in the conservatory was the rustling of plants and the soft wind scratching on the windows.

“Fine,” he said in an oddly light tone. He stepped back onto the path and turned to me with a challenging expression I had grown to know far too well.

Something was off. I was completely baffled at how he could be taking this news so well—I certainly wasn’t. I stared at him in shock. Had he genuinely gotten over me that quickly? It had been three minutes.

“Fine.” I repeated after him, still not understanding how he could be so nonchalant suddenly.

His handsome face didn’t show a thread of sadness and instead was cloaked in dark mischief. “Fine. I’ll see you tonight.”

“What?” I asked, confused and flabbergasted.

“Dinner tonight. Friends have dinner together—or so I hear.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as if he couldn’t keep it down.

“Yes, friends can have dinner, but were you not listening to anything I just said?” I mumbled, feeling completely frustrated.

“Oh, absolutely. Every word. Especially the parts where you said we were friends with benefits.” His brown eyes glittered wildly. Dangerously. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the type of man that gets pushed around and manipulated. I get what I want, Eliza, and I want you. If friends with benefits is all you can offer me right now, then I’m going to take it.” He winked. “Or should I say you’ll be taking it.”

My mouth fell open. “That’s not—” I began, seeing exactly what he was doing.

“I’ll see you tonight for dinner.” He turned and walked to the door before turning back around. “Oh…and, friend? Wear something lacy I can tear off you. Plan on it being unwearable after tonight.”

By the time I picked my mouth up off the floor, he was gone.

He was serious. He really wasn’t going to dismiss the idea of us that easily. I hated to admit it, but deep, deep down, I was glad he wasn’t ready to give up just because I was panicking. For some reason, it reassured the sick, fucked-up part of my mind that worried I was just a quick fuck to him. It made me feel wanted and special—things I never felt.

My steps stuttered as I spun back to the flower bed, trying to reconnect the wires that had blown in my brain and remember what I was supposed to do now.

A breath pushed from my chest as I tried to stifle a laugh. Even amid my frantic meltdown, he still managed to somehow make everything feel better. Everything was better when he was around, and that’s what was so scary.

I grinned. If he thought for a second that I was going to be the one to back down from the friends-with-benefits ruse, he had another thing coming. He knew just as well as I did that he and I couldn’t be friends with benefits. We were just prolonging the inevitable. He was doing this so I would admit that I felt more for him than…friendly. So I’d say it out loud instead—we both knew I felt more for him; he wasn’t stupid. Still, more than that, I was set on my decision to keep my independence, and I couldn’t do that if I gave it to him.

I knew it was a bad idea, a horrible one, and I would go to dinner tonight just to tell him that wasn’t what I had meant and that there really was nothing between us but friendship—a non-fucking friendship.

My pleasantly sore body pulsed as a reminder of last night. I supposed independent women could have friends with benefits and not give themselves fully away, right? Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea.

Chapter 22

Jasper

I moved through the manor with a mission.

I have always been a man who got what he wanted. Always. The problem was: The only things I’d ever really wanted were usually just to spite another person. The only reason I had a single dollar to my name was because spite flowed so heavily through my veins. It was all in an effort to cause my father pain whenever he saw his name attached to an article about Blackwood Industries, after he had left me because he couldn’t take the backlash that his name was getting after poisoning half the town. This was different.

Want and need burned inside of me. I had known it was there—I wasn’t a fool. A man couldn’t look at Eliza Arnold and not be filled with desire. But every other woman I’d ever been with had been uncomplicated. It was easy and careless. I had girls I could call who didn’t need anything extra from me but a quick fuck or a dinner. I didn’t want anyone to be close to me. Until now. Somewhere along the line, Eliza had gotten inside of me—and now that I’d gotten inside of her, I didn’t like the thought of letting her go. So I wouldn’t. At least not yet.

I stalked through the kitchen and into the garage.

“Are you leaving? Will you be gone for dinner?” Katya asked as she pulled a tray of something that smelled like apples and cinnamon from the oven.

“I’ll be back for dinner. I need to run into town. Do you have any extra aprons?”

She canted her head. “Aprons? I think I have some old ones I was going to give to my nieces. Why? Do you need them?”

“Two of them.” My hand hovered over the keys hanging on the hook as I decided which car to take before ultimately settling on the Jeep. “Katya, have you painted? What do I need to get for it?”

Her sharp face lit up. “For Eliza?”