Too Hot to Handle (Romancing the Clarksons #1)(41)

He checked to make sure Rita was still with him, found her listening with cautious interest. “It was a wedding shower, turned out. And they were…talking about me.” He cleared the rust from his throat. “Comparing notes. Laughing about me always being available for a quick visit. But—and I quote—it was obvious from my shit-hole of a bar that I wasn’t good for much else.”

“Jasper…”

“The bride-to-be asked if I was going to be the paid entertainment.” Relating the story didn’t even hurt anymore. More than anything, it was the icy-cold shock he remembered. He’d never been in a serious relationship with any of the women with whom he’d made time, but the revelation that they all thought of him as nothing more than a punch line had forced him to look back. To remember those blurry encounters and how he’d always woken up alone. Or how the experiences had always been hurried. Hurry, before someone finds us. Faster, I have an appointment.

“I stopped getting drunk after that. Kind of stepped back.” Jasper ran a hand down his face. “My customers—hell, my own employees—couldn’t have a serious conversation with me. I’d just become their good time. But they sure as shit didn’t respect me.” He focused on Rita a moment, thinking of the women approaching him on the dance floor. “You saw it last night. And that was an improvement.”

Rita stood, running her palms down the sides of her skirt. She closed the distance to him halfway and stopped, appearing to weigh her words carefully. God, she was beautiful in the partial light, surrounded by his restaurant, shifting on the creaky floorboards. If he wasn’t a semirational man, he might have tied her to the waitress station and forbade her ever to leave.

“Everyone does things they regret. Believe me, I know. You should Google me sometime.” She blew out a breath. “Those women should regret not getting to know you. And you will get respect with this place. I know you will.” A sad smile passed over her lips. “You had mine before you even unlocked the door.”

Instead of a sense of completion at having earned Rita’s admiration, a hole in his stomach yawned wide. “Why do I hear a ‘but’ in there?”

“Because we’re at an impasse, Jasper. I’m leaving tomorrow.” She shuffled backward a step and that one, simple movement almost sank him. “I understand that you need more from a woman now—”

“Wrong. Wrong, Rita. Just you.”

“I can’t offer what I can’t give.” She glanced toward the door. “This road trip is important to me and my family. I think maybe there’s something at the end of it for us. My mother never did anything without a reason—that’s why we had to respect the wish. Time is something I can’t offer. There’s…school and finding a new job. A noncooking job. I’m running from a restaurant and you’re opening one.” She blinked as if everything had come into startling focus. “So I think, maybe—”

“Don’t say it,” Jasper husked.

“This is good-bye.”

Rita’s smile was sad as she turned for the exit—

But she was brought up short when a crash sounded in the adjacent bar, accompanied by shouts. Raised voices Jasper didn’t recognize, but apparently Rita did, because she wasted no time sprinting for the Liquor Hole, Jasper right on her heels.





Chapter Nineteen



Rita’s heart banged around in her chest like sneakers inside a washing machine. That was Belmont’s pissed-off voice she’d heard, followed by Aaron’s. Christ on a cracker. If pent-up sexual frustration, followed by a hefty swing into regret and sadness—courtesy of Jasper Ellis—didn’t kill her, the shock of seeing her brothers brawling in the Liquor Hole just might.

Standing inside the entrance for a few breathless beats, Rita couldn’t move. Since Belmont had gone missing for four days at age ten, Belmont and Aaron’s relationship had been stilted. Belmont had shut down, especially regarding his younger brother, to whom he’d once been closest. But they’d never actively argued as adults, apart from the occasional sarcastic swipes at one another. Par for the course in the Clarkson family. The behavior they were exhibiting now was completely out of the ordinary—but after a quick scan of the bar, Rita had a theory as to what might have been the cause.

Peggy and Sage stood toward the back of the rapt crowd, which had formed in a thick, pushing semicircle around the dance floor. Sage wrung her hands while Peggy consoled her with absentminded shoulder pats, looking even more shell-shocked than Rita felt.

“The Devil Went Down to Georgia” was playing, making the fight seem like something out of a shitty cable television movie. Rita winced when Aaron landed a right hook, snapping Belmont’s head to the side. Damn. She hadn’t known Aaron was capable of delivering a blow like that. How the hell did her older brother remain standing? Belmont looked almost delighted when blood welled on his lower lip.

Jasper laid a hand on Rita’s waist, planting a kiss on her neck. “Boys will be boys, huh?”

“No, this is nothing like them. I think, anyway.” Her throat got tight. “I’m not sure I know either of them as well as I should. I know I don’t.”

Jasper’s regard caressed the side of her face. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No, I’m responsible for them—”