Jasper Vale (The Edens #4)(65)

“I would expect nothing less,” he said as we fell in line with the other guests, inching our way into the reception.

A string quartet was staged in the corner, their music mingling with the hum of conversation and laughter.

The ballroom was bright, the walls cream, as they were throughout the hotel. Matching cloths covered the tables and chairs. The centerpieces were gold candelabras that held dripping white candles. Every table was teeming with pale peonies and pristine white roses. Crystal wall sconces and glimmering chandeliers bathed the room in golden light.

One wall was made of arched openings to an outside terrace. The scent of roses and tangy ocean salt carried across the air.

It was elegant. Mesmerizing. Samantha’s tastes were similar to my own. That shouldn’t have surprised me considering the man we’d both married, but seeing this venue brought the realization front and center. It left a sour taste in my mouth, but I refused to let any bitterness show. There was nothing but a carefree smile on my face.

If the worst thing people said about me tonight was that I was too smiley, I’d call it a win.

Women in designer dresses sipped from crystal champagne flutes. Men in tuxes, like Jasper’s, held tumblers with amber whiskey or colorless cocktails.

The bride and groom were noticeably missing. Thank God. I was going to need a drink before that face-off.

As a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne, Jasper took two glasses, handing me one.

Expensive bubbles burst on my tongue.

Jasper lifted his to his lips, taking a drink. His shoulders were pinned back, his posture poised, yet relaxed as he scanned the room.

I knew it the moment he spotted a familiar face. His frame locked tight, the muscles of his arm flexing. I followed his gaze to two older couples talking and laughing and locked in conversation.

One of the men had brown, almost black, hair with liberal streaks of gray. The woman at his side was slender, almost willowy, wearing a strapless black gown. She was beautiful and had Jasper’s dark eyes. At her throat was an intricate—expensive—diamond necklace that caught the light every time she moved.

“Your parents?” I asked.

Jasper hummed.

I squared my shoulders, letting go of his arm to trail my hand down his sleeve before lacing our fingers together.

“You good?” he asked, glancing down.

I looked up at him, and the concern in his eyes melted my heart. I guess tonight, we’d worry about each other. “Yeah, babe. I’m good.”

With a nod, he led the way, weaving past tables and clusters of wedding guests.

His father noticed us first, stopping the group’s conversation. The couple they’d been talking to said a quick goodbye, then shifted to mingle with a different group while Jasper’s father held out a hand, forcing Jasper to drop mine. “Hello, son.”

“Dad.” Jasper shook his father’s hand, then stepped closer, moving in to kiss both of his mother’s cheeks. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, darling. Isn’t this a lovely evening? We were just on the terrace and it couldn’t have been more beautiful.”

Seriously? This was a woman who hadn’t seen her son in years, and she wanted to chitchat about the weather? And all his father had to say was hello? Not even a, “Good to see you, Jasper”?

My mother would have taken any one of her sons by the ear, hauled them into the hallway for a screaming lecture, then hugged them so tight they’d barely be able to shake her loose. And my dad, well . . . he wouldn’t have allowed years to go by in the first place.

“It is quite lovely.” Jasper placed his hand on the small of my back. “Let me introduce you to my wife. Eloise, these are my parents, Davis and Blair Vale.”

“Such a pleasure.” Davis’s smile seemed genuine as he took my hand, patting it gingerly.

Then Blair moved in, pressing her cheek to each of mine, just like Jasper had done when he’d told her hello.

Keep smiling. Just keep smiling.

Both seemed sincere, yet at the same time, I was watching some rehearsed play. The lines and actions written were executed with precision. Except it lacked any semblance of emotion.

“How are things in Montana?” Davis asked Jasper.

Oh, so they did know where their son was living.

“They’re going well, thank you,” Jasper said. “How have you both been?”

“Excellent.” Davis smiled and those same crinkles as Jasper’s formed at his eyes, though Davis’s were deeper.

“Well, not entirely excellent.” Blair tsked. “I don’t know if Samantha told you or not, I know you two keep up with each other, but we had to put down Lucky last month. It’s been difficult.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mom.” Jasper took my hand again. “Lucky was Mom’s Pomeranian.”

“I’m sorry.” Somehow, I’d been sucked into this weird vortex because I sounded as cold and detached as the rest of them. So I took a long sip of champagne. Alcohol, save me. Tonight, I was going to need it.

“The ceremony was breathtaking,” Mom said. “Sam looks as beautiful as ever.”

Maybe another woman would have infused that statement with some bite. A little malice for the new daughter-in-law to know she’d never live up to the previous one. Except it was just . . . a statement. No malice. No ill intent.