Page 45 of Reclaimed Roots

Or not.

"Friend," I echoed. The bubble of happiness deflated abruptly. Was that all he wanted from me? I nodded, pasting on a smile that felt brittle and false. "Of course. I understand."

He studied me for a moment. Then he held out a hand, a determined glint in his eye.

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

I blinked stupidly at the proffered hand. "What? Where are we going?"

He gave me a boyish grin that made my heart flip. "Anywhere but this stuffy office. You need a break. And I happened to know the best ice cream spot in town."

I hesitated, glancing around at the looming piles of paperwork. Responsible Natalie knew I should stay, keep slogging through the numbers until I found some answers.

I did need a break.Chase had taken me for drinks. Liam would have taken me to some fancy restaurant that required a suit coat. But Jasper… Jasper wanted to take me for ice cream. And the whispering devil on my shoulder wanted more stolen hours of normalcy, easy conversation, laughter, and sugar on my tongue.

"Okay," I said slowly, my face breaking into the first real smile of the day. "Ice cream sounds perfect, actually."

Jasper's grin widened. "That's my girl."

The endearment slipped past his lips so naturally that neither of us noticed. Not at first, anyway.

Then the implication of it settled between us. Jasper's smile faltered, that brief flash of warmth dimming as the present crashed back in.

We weren't carefree kids anymore. We'd been irrevocably changed, our innocence shattered by the harsh realities of heartbreak and loss.

But maybe... maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybethe scars we bore and the lessons we'd learned would finally allow us to figure this thing between us out. To at least be friends if we couldn't be anything more. Just like Mom said. Becauseshe knows things.

Jasper cleared his throat. "Shall we?"

He gestured toward the door. I grabbed my purse, ditched my cardigan, and fell into step beside him as we headed out into the balmy summer evening. The streets were quiet, most shops already closed for the day, and the first hints of twilight tinged the sky in soft shades of violet and rose. Our footsteps echoed on the sidewalk as we walked, close but not quite touching.

It was strange, strolling through town with Jasper like that. Strange and painfully familiar all at once. How many times had we meandered down those same streets as teenagers, fingers intertwined and hearts full to bursting? How many lazy summer evenings had we wasted away at the ice cream parlor, splitting sundaes and stealing kisses between bites?

The memories washed over me in a bittersweet torrent, tightening my throat and pricking at the backs of my eyes. God, we were so young. So naïve.

If only we'd known what the future held. Would we have cherished those moments more? Held each other a little tighter, loved a little harder?

I gave myself a mental shake. There was no use dwelling on the past. All we had was the here and now, this tentative olive branch Jasper was extending.

I sneaked a glance at him out of the corner of my eye,taking in the strong lines of his profile. The stubborn jut of his chin, the sharp cut of his cheekbones. He was even more handsome than I remembered, the boyish softness of youth hardened into something rugged and undeniably masculine.

But beneath the surface changes, there was still the Jasper I knew. The quiet strength, the fierce loyalty, the wry humor in those warm amber eyes. He was still in there, my sweet, steady boy. Just a little rougher around the edges, a little more jaded by life's hardships.

We reached the ice cream parlor, the cheerful jingle of the bell above the door pulling me from my musings. As we stepped inside, the sugary-sweet scent of waffle cones and hot fudge triggered yet another wave of nostalgia. I was seventeen again. Delirious with the simple pleasures of a summer evening spent with the boy who held my heart in his hands.

Jasper didn't seem to notice my moment of disorientation. He held the door open for me, ushering me inside with a gentle hand at the small of my back. A fleeting touch, barely there and gone again. But it felt laden with meaning, heavy with the echoes of a thousand other touches just like it.

I had barely recovered before he was at the counter, frowning in concentration as he perused the chalkboard menu with the intense focus he applied to everything.

I allowed myself a smile at the way his tongue poked out ever-so-slightly as he weighed his options. It was such a Jasper thing, the need to carefully consider every variable before making a decision.

When the girl behind the counter finally approached, all bright smiles and bouncing ponytail, he didn't miss a beat.

"I'll take a double scoop of Moose Tracks in a waffle cone, please," he said, then paused, glancing over his shoulder at me. "Nat? You still like mint chip, right?"

The casual question stole the breath from my lungs. He remembered. After all these years, he still remembered my favorite ice cream flavor.

I nodded mutely, too choked up to speak. Jasper nodded and turned back to the girl. "Make that two—a double scoop of mint chip for the lady."

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