“Thanks,” Jasper told the dog, before tossing it across his office. Koda trotted over and picked up the rabbit, carrying it back to Jasper, who threw it again.
They played the game for a few minutes before Jasper gave up pretending to work. He stood and headed for the door, Koda at his heels. They both went outside. Koda headed off into the woods to take care of business while Jasper looked around, wondering if there was any inspiration to be had or if he should simply accept his limitations and hope his career continued despite them.
He was deep in self-flagellation when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. Hunter Beauchene walked around the side of the house.
Wynn’s son was thirteen now, and getting taller by the day. He was at that awkward stage where his arms and legs didn’t fit with his torso. His voice was in the process of changing and every now and then, Jasper caught glimpses of the man he would eventually grow to be.
“Hey, you,” he said, holding out his hand. Hunter did the same as they greeted each other with their elaborate handshake, a ritual that had been established nearly two summers ago. Back when he’d first started seeing Wynn.
Not that she’d introduced him to Hunter. Instead she’d insisted their sex-only relationship be kept secret—especially from her son. If Hunter found out, it was over. Well, Hunter had figured it out almost immediately and had wanted to be friends with Jasper. The kid knew the rules and wanted to keep their hanging out time off his mom’s radar. Jasper had resisted at first but eventually Hunter had won him over and they’d started hanging out. He supposed his willingness to break her only rule had been a sign they weren’t going to make it as a couple. Ironically, as soon as they’d broken up, she’d stopped minding if he hung out with her son. Yup, women were confusing as hell.
“Is it afternoon already?” Jasper asked, glancing up at the sun. It felt earlier.
Hunter looked at him. “It’s barely eleven. I have the day off. The teachers are doing some training or something. You really don’t know what time it is?”
“I’ve been working.”
Hunter nodded, getting the explanation. He was used to Jasper’s odd ways.
Koda broke through the trees and raced toward Hunter. The teen dropped to his knees to greet the dog. In a matter of seconds, they were on the ground, tumbling over each other. The combination of happy yips and human laughter comforted Jasper. At least this part of his world was as it should be.
“You hungry?” Jasper asked, when the two broke apart.
“Got any cookies?”
Jasper and Hunter shared a weakness for Cheryl’s Cookies, and Jasper ordered them frequently. They agreed that the sugar cookies with buttercream frosting were the best.
They went into the kitchen and Jasper pulled four cookies out of the freezer. Hunter poured himself a glass of milk while Jasper refilled his coffee mug. Koda settled in his bed in the kitchen where he could watch everything going on.
The dog was doing well, Jasper thought. Putting on weight, sleeping and settling in to his new life. He was good company.
“How’s school?” Jasper asked as he opened the plastic wrap around the first cookie. “Classes going okay?”
“Jasper, you always ask that.”
“I’m interested. So answer the question.”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “I’m doing fine. I get good grades.”
“You better.”
“Or what?”
Jasper grinned. “You want to go there with me, kid?”
Hunter laughed. “No, I don’t. But in a couple of years I’ll be able to take you.”
“In your dreams.”
“Mom says this year if you hire some guy to teach you a new fighting style I can come to the lessons. As long as they’re after school.” Hunter’s expression was hopeful. “So maybe you could think of something really cool for the book you’re writing.”
Jasper found it easier to write about something if he could actually do it himself. He’d learned to throw knives and use fighting sticks for previous books. And shoot a crossbow. Hunter had begged to be a part of the lessons, but while Jasper was willing to cross some lines, there were others that needed to stay in place.
“I will think of something cool,” he said, “but I will also run whatever it is past your mom.”
“She really did say that.”
“I believe you.” He flashed a grin. “Sort of.”
Hunter laughed and tossed Koda a piece of cookie.
“So what’s going on for the rest of your day off?”
Hunter finished his second cookie and picked up his milk. “I’m going to go over to a friend’s house.”
“You ride all the way up here?”
“I got a ride partway from a park ranger.”
Jasper thought about the pages he hadn’t written. He was behind on his book and if this morning was any indication—and so far, it was—without doing something drastic, he was never going to make forward progress on his story. Maybe he needed a change of scene and a chance to observe women in their natural habitat.
“I’m heading to town,” he said. “We can throw your bike in the back of the truck and I’ll drive you to your friend’s house.”
“Thanks.”
Thirty minutes later Jasper stood in the center of town and tried to figure out what he was supposed to do now. Walk around and watch women going about their lives? That wasn’t going to be good for anyone. He wasn’t some crazed stalker guy and would watching a random female do grocery shopping or walking her baby get him any closer to solving his problem? He honestly didn’t know where to start. Or how to start. Or what he wanted to do.
He walked over to a bench by the river and sat down. Detective Vidar needed a love interest. He didn’t want the woman to be a cop, so not anyone he worked with. Which was limiting because Vidar, like Jasper himself, didn’t have much of a social life. Dating a victim seemed tacky. Plus, most of Jasper’s killer’s victims ended up dead. So someone involved on the fringes of the crime? Or what? A neighbor? A...
He stood up. This was ridiculous. He knew women. Lots of women. All he had to do was talk to one of them. He looked around and saw the large wall that defined the boundaries of Weddings Out of the Box. Renee. He would go see Renee. Not only could they talk about his book, he would get to see her smile and that alone was worth a trip down the mountain.
“WE CAN DO an assortment of different kinds of apples to hold the place cards,” Renee said, scrolling through photos of apples on her computer. “That adds variety. However if you want consistency and to be in line with your color palette, then I would say stick with the Granny Smith apples.”
She paused and glanced at the speakerphone. There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of breathless female laughter.
“I’ve hit a wall,” Stacey Treadway said. “I can’t make one more decision. I just can’t.”
“Someone has to,” Renee said gently. “And it’s not going to be me.”
“And I thought apples would be easy. Let’s do the Granny Smith apples for the place cards. They’ll go with the glass towers we’ll have around the space and it will look nice.”
“Done and done,” Renee said, studying her list. “Stacey, I don’t want