Tears filled her eyes as she struggled for control. “Let’s try to hold off on the child terrorizing, okay?”
My lips thinned at the reminder of Cady sobbing in my arms. “Someone needs to teach her a lesson.”
Aspen’s expression softened. “I don’t disagree, but I’m not sure that person is you.”
It would be if that girl didn’t leave Cady alone.
“This been going on long?” I asked.
Aspen toyed with the fringe on one of her throw pillows. “Heather has never been especially fond of Cady, but it got worse when they all started ballet.”
A muscle in my jaw ticked. “Have you talked to her parents?”
“It’s just her mom in the picture, Katelyn Beasley.”
I winced. That woman was a piece of work. She was always trying to snag one of my brothers. As they’d paired off, she’d set her sights on Lawson, who had no interest whatsoever. “You try talking to her?”
Aspen went quiet, her fingers tangling in the pillow’s fringe.
“Aspen?” I pressed.
Her gaze lifted to mine. “She’s not my biggest fan.”
My back teeth ground together. “What. Do. You. Mean?”
“Nothing. It’s not a big deal.”
I lifted a hand, brushing the hair away from her face. My thumb traced across her pulse point, the rough pad such a contrast to her petal-soft skin. “Mean-girl moms,” I muttered, remembering Aspen’s words from the other day.
Aspen swallowed hard. “It’s nothing I can’t take.”
Her pulse jumped beneath my thumb.
“I can feel when you’re lying.”
Aspen’s eyes widened, and she licked her lips. “She’s a total bitch. It’s no wonder her daughter’s awful. She insults my car, my clothes, my parenting. I doubt she’d hear anything I had to say regarding her daughter’s behavior.”
I struggled to keep the anger from my face. “Jealous.”
Aspen snorted. “I think it’s more that she’s deeply unhappy. She has to tear everyone around her down so she feels better about herself.”
I was sure that was part of it. But not the whole. Not even close. “You don’t see how bright you shine.”
She looked up at me, confusion swirling in those green depths.
“Everyone around you sees it. You have this pull. Makes people want to be in your orbit. People like Katelyn will never have that. Too much ugliness in them.”
Aspen’s breaths grew shallow as her gaze dropped to my lips.
Fire flared in my veins—a need so powerful it almost stole my breath.
She was close, just a breath away. One tiny flicker of movement, and I could know what it was like to drown in her taste.
“I’m ready!” Cady called as she charged down the hallway. “Can I go see Dory before I have my snack?”
I jerked my hand away from Aspen as if I’d been burned. And I had in a way. Had no doubt that simply feeling her skin would leave scars.
Aspen ducked her head and rose. “Sure thing, Katydid. Get your coat. It’s cold out there.”
I moved on instinct, following Aspen. Her pull still had a hold of me, and I wasn’t sure that would ever change. I needed to keep my distance. Rebuild those walls. But for the first time, I didn’t want to.
I slid on my boots by the door, and Aspen stopped close, zipping up her jacket. “You need a coat, too.”
“I’m good,” I grunted.
She huffed out a breath. “What? You’re a mountain man impervious to cold?”
“No, he’s a grizzly bear!” Cady said, jumping up and down.
I chuckled and hauled her into my arms, tickling her sides. “What’d you call me?”
“A grizzly bear!” she yelled between shrieks and giggles. “Big and tall and grumpy and always hungry.”
I grinned as I set Cady on her feet. “That’s fair, I guess.”
She slipped her little hand into mine. “Let’s go.”
My chest gave a painful squeeze. She had no idea what her simple acceptance meant to someone like me. The power of it.
Cady tugged me outside and toward the barn as Aspen locked the door behind us. “Do you think Dory will miss us when she goes?”
“I bet she’ll miss you.”
We’d all been careful to keep our distance other than to give Dory her medicine twice a day. I hoped like hell that meant she’d be able to be reintroduced to the wild.
Cady tugged on the barn door, but it only moved an inch. I reached above her, sliding it open.