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"Can it please be Giant, um, Cormac Carmichael?"
"Yeah. Fuck, yeah, Dimples."
I exhale a relieved breath. At least it'll be someone I know and trust.
Chapter Eight
Noah
"Why isn't my sister answering my calls?" Nash demands as soon as I answer the phone.
"Maybe because she's busy?" I suggest, lying my ass off. She's not busy. She's curled up on the couch beside me right now, watching some fucking Lifetime movie about a pregnant girl and her new boyfriend or something. I don't know. I stopped paying attention half an hour ago.
"How do you know? Are you with her right now?"
"Maybe."
Nash curses under his breath. "It's ten o'clock at night, Diamante."
"We're watching a movie."
"Where?"
"At my place."
"I'm regretting giving you permission to get to know her," he mutters. "You're already moving too goddamn fast for me."
"Good thing it's not your business then, huh?"
He curses again. "Let me talk to my sister before I decide I don't like you."
I chuckle and hold the phone out to Aspen. "Your brother wants to talk to you, Dimples. He's cranky."
Aspen groans before plucking the phone from my hand. "What do you want now?" she says, exasperated. I don't know what he says, but she huffs and then smiles. "If I say no, are you going to fire him from babysitting duty?"
"He can't fire me, baby. I already quit."
I think he hears me because she listens for a minute and then laughs. "He said quitting is for vaginas."
"He would know, considering he is one."
"He says he heard that," she says, smiling from ear to ear.
"He was supposed to hear it." I climb to my feet, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm going to check on Brick while you talk to your brother."
"Okay," she whispers, staring up at me with a soft expression, happiness shining in her eyes. I like that look on her face a helluva lot better than I like seeing her afraid and crying, that's for sure.
I duck out of the room in search of Brick, smiling when I hear her tell Nash to mind his own business and stop trying to be the boss of her and her cat. She's so fucking sassy. It shouldn't make my dick nearly as hard as it does. And yet, I love it. I don't know many people who would bounce back from the morning she had as fast as she has, but she just deals with it, refusing to let it slow her down. I know that doesn't mean she's over it. Of fucking course she's not over it. But she's coping, and that's a good sign.
Brick is sprawled across the very center of the pool table in my game room, passed out. Which is pretty much where we left him a few hours ago. He explored for a while when we got here, and then decided he preferred this room. I don't blame him. All the cool shit is in here.
Aspen's favorite room is the kitchen. I didn't even have to ask to know. She lit up as soon as she set eyes on it. I can't fucking wait to see her in it, putting it to use. I have a feeling it's her happy place, the one place where she feels most connected to her parents and where she came from.
I pour a little food into Brick's bowl—either he's dead to the world or simply not hungry because he barely even twitches—and then head down the hall to grab Aspen's phone from the bedroom. She tried to put it in the guest room, but I want her in my space. If she's not ready for me to be in there with her, I won't rush her. But I want her scent all over my pillows when she leaves. Knowing she's in my bed is the only damn way I'm going to get any sleep.
I grab the phone and jog back to the living room. She's curled up on the couch again, watching her movie. She tilts her head back, smiling when she sees me. "Hey."
"How's Nash?" I drop her phone in her lap.
