Page 61 of Jasper

“Good afternoon, Mr. Watkins.” The man smiled and rolled the cart into the small entryway.

“That’s far enough.” Jasper’s words were abrupt and not friendly, but he wasn’t about to let another asshole get the jump on him because of a food cart.

“Of course, sir.” The man—Gary, according to his nametag—stopped and turned around. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No.” He pulled the ten-dollar bill out of his pocket he’d put there after ordering for whoever brought the food up.

“Thank you, sir.” Gary took his tip and left. Jasper watched him all the way to the elevator and stood there for a few minutes to make sure no one else came up.

Fool him once, shame on them. Fool him twice, well, that wasn’t fucking going to happen ever again.

“Jasper?”

He heard the worry in the way she whispered his name, and he finally shut the door. The food was getting cold, anyway. Rolling the cart over to her, he uncovered two burgers and fries. Thankfully, even the fancy restaurant downstairs still catered to the average guest. There was also a massive piece of chocolate cake.

His father once told him the way to a woman’s heart was with chocolate. It soothed them and calmed them down in ways that mystified him, but it worked. Jasper never tried it before, but he was game for anything that would keep Sloane calm enough not to freak out again. This woman, this tiny slip of a woman, mattered to him.

The need to protect her went beyond simple loyalty to Jarrod. Sloane had wormed her way under his skin in a little less than three weeks. His high school girlfriend, his longest relationship at three years, had never inspired the protective feelings Sloane did. It should have concerned him more than it did.

He found the silverware and the cold bottle of ketchup and passed it to her before climbing onto the bed with both plates in his hand. Sloane put the kittens on the floor and took her plate, her stomach growling loudly enough Rocky glanced up from where he sat at her feet.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said with a laugh. “Your belly is full. Mine isn’t. Wait, have they eaten yet?”

Jasper nodded. “I fed them right before I went to sleep.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About an hour now.” Jasper bit into his own burger and debated how much to tell her. He was dead tired and needed sleep badly, but if he didn’t scare her enough, she might call someone or go down the hall for ice or some stupid shit that would get her killed. It wasn’t that he thought she was stupid. He understood the type of people they were dealing with, and it could turn something as mundane as going to get ice or visiting the vending machines into an opportunity. He wasn’t about to lose her to an average, ordinary choice.

Her eyes widened. “You’d only just gone to sleep?”

“Had to make sure it was safe enough to sleep.”

“Okay, that’s enough of your cryptic remarks, Robert Jasper Colone.”

“I should probably tell you that’s not my real name.”

Her burger froze midway to her mouth. He almost laughed at her expression. She’d accused him of being a serial killer when they’d first met, and he could read her expression like an open book. Her head had gone right back there.

“I’m not a serial killer.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You were thinking it.”

Her lips pursed. “Well, you might be. I still haven’t dismissed that possibility.”

No hint of a joke in that statement. The girl was dead serious.

“I needed an escape, to unplug and figure out what was causing me to lose focus. That meant I had to go to ground where I couldn’t get sucked back into work. So, I used an alias and turned off my phone so work couldn’t find me. Jarrod knew all this. Haven’t you learned to trust me by now, Sloane?”

“I don’t even know your real name.” She put the burger down and instead chewed on a fry.

“Jasper Watkins, at your service.”

“What’s your middle name?”

“Guess.”

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