Page 5 of Blade’s Edge (L.A.S.T. Defense #1)
“Is she even old enough to drink?” Jasper digs a twenty-dollar bill out of his back pocket and slides it across the bar.
“Christy? She’s twenty-four.” I frown. She has a glass of champagne in her hand. Dammit. She knows better than that. If anyone catches her drinking on camera, her story won’t hold any weight. Not that she’ll get much of a scoop here.
“Here’s your club soda, ma’am,” the bartender says. “And sir? Your whiskey.”
Jasper takes a healthy swig of his drink, while I manage only a small sip of mine.
I should go tell Christy to dump the bubbly.
But then Jasper’s hand hovers close enough to my back that I can feel the heat of him, and I let him guide me over to the wall where we’re out of the way but can still see the stage.
“Say what you got to say, Ms. Marsh. But make it quick. As soon as AJ gets his award, I’m outta here.”
Now that’s an interesting tidbit. Why wouldn’t he stick around? My thoughts start to spiral. They’re clearly not close. Yet Jasper came to the gala as AJ’s plus one.
I have to stop. Not everything is a story. If I don’t tell Jasper how sorry I am now, I might not get another chance.
“Mr. Blade, I owe you an apology. Showing up in your hospital room after…well, after you…”
“Lost everything?” He takes another gulp of his whiskey, then shudders from the burn of the alcohol. “Ain’t no never mind, ma’am. The way I see it, you were just doin’ your job.”
“That doesn’t make it right.” I can’t stomach any more of the club soda, and set it on a tray next to us.
It’s terrible. Bitter as sin and twice as flat.
“I pushed you hard enough you threw me out. Then I did the one thing you told me not to do. I reported on the connection between the Cordova Cartel and the Marquez drug ring.”
“Don’t remember much of that day,” Jasper says with a slow shake of his head. “Didn’t watch the news for a solid week after. So whatever you did or didn’t do…can’t say I care, Ms. Marsh.”
Across the room, the emcee takes the stage to a round of applause. I glance at Christy, happy to see her writing in her notebook— not drinking—and when I turn back to Jasper…he’s gone.
Jasper
I should have walked out five minutes after AJ accepted his award. Then I wouldn’t be trapped at this table babysitting my big brother while he nurses a single glass of tequila. The same glass of tequila he’s been staring into for the past hour.
The commander asked his wife to dance a bit ago. The other Rangers at the table—Sergeant Parker Elmore and some new recruit named Hardison—left already. They’re working tomorrow, and it’s nearly 10:00 p.m.
“We could bail.” I finish my third whiskey of the night—not my smartest decision, even if it is a necessary one—and stare back at the cash bar. A fourth might keep the pain at bay. But it’ll leave me with one hell of a hangover. Dammit. I promised myself I’d be better. Time to switch to water.
“You go. If I leave now, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He brings the rocks glass to his lips and inhales.
“I reckon tequila works better when you actually drink it.”
With a sigh, he shakes his head. “This…ain’t for me.”
Then who the hell is it—? Goddammit.
Grace. Tequila was always her drink.
I sit up a little straighter and set my glass down. “AJ, come on. You need an excuse to leave? Tell Commander Harris I’m lit and you’re takin’ me home. I’ll even act the part.”
He gives me the side-eye. “You are lit, Jas. You’re just damn good at hidin’ it.”
“Fuck you. I came, didn’t I?” Shoving my chair back, I push to my feet and wince as my right knee threatens to buckle. “You can go back to ignorin’ me now. See you in a year. Or…never.”
He doesn’t look up. The memories in that glass mean more to him than I ever did.
By the time I get outside, I’m halfway to forgiving him. Probably a side effect of the whiskey. AJ’s gone through hell for almost two years. He’s earned that stick up his ass. But would it kill him to take it out for five fuckin’ minutes?
My rideshare app claims the nearest car is forty-five minutes away. Shit. I knew I should have left hours ago.
I won’t make it home on foot. Not with my bum leg.
My apartment is three miles from here. And goin’ back inside?
Fuck that. The coffee shop on the corner is open late.
At least there, I can sit alone and sober up.
Maybe by the time I get home, I’ll be so exhausted, it won’t matter how much pain I’m in.
But when I push through the door, the first thing I see is a pair of crimson fuck-me heels.
Turn around, Jas. Right now.
But, I can’t. Slowly, I lift my gaze. Toned, tanned legs, red silk clinging to a tight ass, and long brown locks. Emmylou Marsh stands at the counter staring up at the menu.
“I’ll have a cappuccino with almond milk,” she says. “Make it a double shot.” A car honks out on the street, and Emi tosses a glance over her shoulder. All the color drains from her cheeks. “Mr. Blade? What are you doing here?”
Shit. I shove my hands into my Wranglers. “Waitin’ for my rideshare somewhere my brother’s foul mood won’t rub off on me. Don’t worry. I ain’t followin’ you.”
“Oh. I didn’t think?—”
The left side of my mouth curls up into a half smile. “You sure? That look on your face says otherwise.”
Emi blushes, her cheeks almost the same color as her dress now.
“I’m sorry. It was a long evening, and it’s going to be an even longer night of work when I get back to the office.
” Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Emi beckons me up to the counter.
“You bought my drink earlier. The least I can do is buy yours now.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I do. What’ll it be, Mr. Blade?”
I sidle up to the register. Damn. She’s only inches away from me, and those chestnut eyes of hers are mesmerizing. “Call me Jasper. I’ll take a coffee. Black. No room for cream.”
“Now that’s the drink of a man who doesn’t believe in joy. Or doesn’t sleep much.” She passes her phone over the card reader. “Which one are you, Jasper?”
“Both, I reckon.” The urge to tell her why I don’t sleep shouldn’t be this strong. I barely know the woman. But there’s something about her. Or maybe that’s all the whiskey talking.
“Do you want to sit down?” Emi asks once the barista hands us our drinks. “The hotel valet was so busy, they said it would be at least twenty minutes before they could get to my car.”
“I’ve got some time.” I gesture for her to pick a table, and she leads me to one next to the window, angling her chair so she can see the front of the hotel—and presumably her car when it shows up.
Lifting the to-go cup, she takes a sip of the cappuccino. A spot of foam dots the corner of her mouth. Watching the tip of her tongue dart out to flick it away is practically a religious experience.
Fuck. Get your act together. You ain’t lookin’ to start something.
The scent of the dark brew grounds me. “Your boss sends you to a fancy party and then expects you to work all night? On a Saturday?” I ask.
Her laugh sends blood shooting right to my dick.
“I should go home,” she says with a little shrug. “But I have a big interview on Monday that I need to prepare for. At the office, I’m less likely to fall asleep mid-email.”
“What kind of interview?” I keep my tone casual—just making conversation—though I’m desperate to know more about her.
“That’s a secret. If it goes well, you’ll find out when the rest of Austin does. Monday night at 6:12 p.m. Give or take.” Her smile lights up her entire face. Lips parted, pupils dilated, a flush creeping up her neck… She’s genuinely excited. Giddy, even.
I raise a brow, aiming my own grin her way. “Are you good at secrets, Emi?”
Her top teeth sink into her bottom lip and she fixes me with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Secrets come with the job, Jasper. And I’m very good at my job.”
A spark of awareness rushes up my spine.
Is she flirting with me? Or is the booze throwing off my radar?
Before I can settle on an answer, she’s on her feet.
“There’s my car.” Her fingers sweep lightly over my shoulder as she scoots past me, and I feel it down to my marrow.
“This was nice. I’ll see you later, Mr. Blade. ”
It takes a shit ton of effort to stop myself from turning to watch her go. Instead, I smile into my next sip of coffee. “Here’s hopin’, Ms. Marsh.”