Hopeless Devotion ~ A Jasper Hale Story

Chapter Eight - Shopping Spree

I woke slowly, wrapped in layers of blankets and Jasper's scent. For a second, I forgot where I was—then the weight of the Cullen house around me settled into my chest like a warm, familiar hug.

The sun was trying its best to peek around the thick clouds outside the window, the early light painting the room in soft gray-blue. I yawned, rolled over, and reached for my phone on the nightstand.

Three unread messages waited for me, all from Jasper.

Jazzman – 11:42 PM
Sorry I didn't reply right away. We were already out and things got loud fast. I miss you. I keep glancing behind me like you'll be there. Sleep sweet, darlin'. I love you.

Jazzman – 6:08 AM
Morning, love. The sky's clear and cold. Emmett says it's perfect "hiking" weather. Which is code for us running around pretending we're on a camping trip and not out doing something far more questionable. Hope you slept warm.

Jazzman – 6:49 AM
Eat breakfast. Don't let Alice trick you into planning seven weddings. And give Esme a hug for me if she's cooking.

I smiled, warmth pooling in my chest as I held the phone to my heart for just a second. Even when he was out with the others—doing what vampires did when they needed to feed—he still found a way to make me feel wrapped up in something safe.

Tiff – 7:12 AM
Tell Em hiking isn't real unless you have trail mix. I'm claiming your bed now, sorry. Also... I love you more. <3

I stretched slowly, then slid out from under the comforter and padded barefoot into the bathroom. My face felt warm from sleep and leftover steam from the night before. I scrubbed it clean, threw my hair into a loose braid, and changed into soft black leggings and an oversized pine-green sweatshirt that had once belonged to Jasper.

It hung off my frame like a hug with sleeves.

Downstairs, the scent of cinnamon and brown butter curled through the air like a promise.

Esme.

I smiled and followed it to the kitchen, where she was already moving gracefully between the stove and the counter. Her hair was pinned back in a soft twist, and she wore an apron like it was part of her soul.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said warmly, without turning around.

I leaned against the doorway, watching the sun catch the gold in her hair. "Something smells amazing."

She glanced back with a proud smile. "Apple cinnamon pancakes. And blueberry compote—Alice says you like options."

I stepped into the room and let the quiet joy of it settle into my bones. This house, this kitchen, this morning—it all felt like something from a future I wasn't quite in yet, but already belonged to.

Esme slid a plate of steaming pancakes in front of me as I perched on one of the tall bar stools at the island. The kitchen was bright, calm, the only sound the soft clink of plates and the occasional birdsong outside the window.

I poured a small pool of maple syrup and dipped the edge of a pancake into it, chewing slowly as I watched Esme move with her quiet grace.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, sitting across from me with a cup of tea she didn't need but always made anyway.

"I did," I said, smiling around a bite. "Your home always makes me feel like I'm visiting a really classy inn run by emotionally competent vampires."

Esme laughed, warm and musical. "I'll take that as a compliment."