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Chapter 81

HARPER

W e hung out with Tomas for quite a while. I really got a kick out of hearing about Jasper's childhood antics. Tomas adored Jasper. When we said our goodbyes, Tomas made him swear to stay connected. You could see tears in his eyes as we walked away from the stables. Jasper mentioned that there were living quarters on the other side and that Tomas had been there for a long time.

What would happen to Tomas when Jasper signed the papers to sell? Will the new owners hire him, or will he be forced to leave? I didn't want to ask Jasper and damper the mood, so I kept my concerns to myself, intending to bring it up later. I'm sure Jasper could find him somewhere to go if he was forced to leave.

My thoughts were interrupted when I spotted a beautiful apple tree just ahead. It was the single tree in the middle of a never-ending field. Apples had fallen from the tree and were now lying on the ground but even so, the tree was huge and gorgeous. Getting closer, I could spot something spread out ahead of us. Jasper kept shooting looks my way, probably to catch how I'd react to what was up ahead.

A few steps later I realized it was a blanket laid out under the apple tree and a picnic basket sitting on the blanket.

"Oh My gosh, are we having a picnic?" I squealed with excitement.

"Yes, do you like it?" Jasper asked nervously.

"I love it!" I clapped my hands together and walked faster grabbing Jasper's hand and dragging him behind me to get to the blanket quickly.

I turned around and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, when I couldn't reach him, he playfully huffed and leaned down the rest of the way to give me access to place a small kiss on his cheek.

"This is the best surprise I've ever gotten. Thank you for planning this for us."

He is perfect.

He understood I didn't want money, cars, or jewelry. I'd love some sweet gestures and to spend time together. We should look for a spot in Miami to have picnics like this.

We walked over to the tree, and I put my hand over some engravings that looked like initials. My fingers grazed the deep marks, discerning the carved initials J.W and H.W.

I felt Jasper Walk up behind me. He looked over my shoulder to see what I was admiring.

"Those are mine and my mother's initials. We carved them there the summer before she was murdered." Jasper answered my unasked question.

"Let's put our initials here and one day you could come back with the woman you want to marry and do the same with her."

"I had forgotten about that day. It was the day we got home after dark and my father was supposed to be out of town for the night. When he returned early, we weren't home. After I had gone to bed, I could hear my mother's sobs as my father screamed at her."

He shook His head maybe to clear the memories.

I continued tracing the initials on the trunk.

"Jasper, what was your mother's name?" I asked lost in my thoughts. Confused by my question he hesitated.

"Helena. Why? Is something wrong?" I turned to meet his gaze and read his expression. I smiled the biggest smile I had ever smiled. He instinctively smiled at me. I could tell he had no idea why I was smiling but it was a beautiful moment.

"Your mother's initials were H.W.?" He nodded, still confused.

"Jasper, what are my initials?" I asked, trying to get him to see what I saw.

"Harper Williams. H…" He cut himself off when he caught on to why I was grinning. It turned out that Jasper's mom and I have the same initials, and the craziest part is that once Jasper and I are married, my initials will still be H.W.

He grabbed me by the waist pulling me flush with his chest, until he was close enough to whisper into my ear and said,

"Maybe you were handpicked for me, Harper. Maybe this was meant to be all along."

I turned to face him, as he pushed against me and the tree. It was so sudden that I lost my footing, and slammed the short distance between him and the tree trunk. I hit hard and let out a tiny huff from the impact. He stopped and pulled back to check on me, he stared at me, his eyes dark. He didn't hurt me, I liked it. I liked the aggressive, assertive, feral side of him, it was hot and primal. Before last night he was gentle and slow and careful with me and my mental health, I didn't want that anymore, I didn't want to deny myself of my sexual desires. I didn't want to be treated like a fragile little girl who could break down and lose it at any second. I want to be devoured; I want to test my limits. I want fire.

I licked my lips, smirking, encouraging him to keep going.

"Fuck, Doll. What's gotten into you?" he hissed, before he sucked the skin of my neck into his mouth. I moaned at the sting.

"You." I whimpered.

"And I want you to get into me again, please." I felt him smile against my skin, and his grip on my waist tightened.

"My pleasure, baby."

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