Page 51 of Among the Screaming Trees

“What the fuck do you idiots want?”

“Aspen. Open the fucking door.”

“She’s not taking visitors right no⁠—”

“Open it before we kick it in, asshole.” In the background, we can hear hushed conversation, and that is not Aspen’s voice. Who else does he have inside with her. “Now!”

The door peeled back with Dr. Bonner on the other side. Fucking figures. That was conveniently left out of the group-chat brief. Fox and I brush past him, shouldering our gear bags. A roaring fire crackles and spits while one little tree sits in front of it, her knees drawn up to her chin. She blinks when she notices us, a huge grin painting her stunning face. Aspen jumps to her feet, and I shrug my bag off my shoulder and let it drop to the floor. Fox does the same, eyeing the room for booby traps and ninjas perched on the exposed beams.

“What the fuck is this?” Wyldan demands, stalking from a hallway. He has dark-framed glasses on. He wears glasses?

“We have visitors, Elijah,” Bonner says, rocking back on his heels with his arms crossed. “How about that?”

Fox shakes his head. “Not visitors, boys. Me and Fox are moving in.”

“The fuck you are,” he spits.

“Come now, Prof, where are your manners? That is not the part of the gracious host,” I tisk.

“Aspen needs to live here; you don’t.”

Now that’s just rude. “Not true, Professor. Wherever she is, we are.”

Fox taps his chest before tipping his head toward the doctor.

“The doc is here…”

“Jack and I work together. More than that, we’ve known each other for over twenty years. I trust him enough to be in my home. You two”—his hand oscillates between Fox and me—“are questionable, at best. Are you even house trained?”

The middle fingers fly. Aspen hides her smile behind her hand, snuggling under Fox’s shoulder.

“There’s not enough room…”

“We’ll sleep in her bed.”

“The fuck you will.”

Let the epic stare down begin. The audacity of this motherfucker to even think about saying no.

“Professor Wyldan,” comes a syrupy-sweet, feminine voice. Come on, sweetheart, work your magic. “This house is huge. I’m sure there is room. Can they stay, please?” She shifts a hand over her lower belly and frowns.

“Aspen…” he growls at her.

“Please.” This time that pouty bottom lip joins the show. She’s so fucking adorable like this.

“Jack?” The professor turns to the doctor, who holds up his palms and shakes his head.

“Not my house, not my circus. But Pen is right, you have heaps of room.”

Wyldan’s face thunders. He’s lost this round. “Fine.”

“Ya—” Our celebrations are cut short when the grumpy asshole starts counting conditions on his fingers.

“No mess. No noise. No parties. No leaving your shit lying around everywhere. While Aspen stays here, I’ve relieved the staff. I don’t want outside people here while she is. Clearly I didn’t factor you pricks into this.”

“It’s all good, Prof,” I say, grinning.

“I wasn’t finished.”