Page 37 of Jasper

I freeze, wide-eyed.

He crosses his arms, tone sharp. “He hasn’t been checked for any diseases yet. I don’t want you getting scratched.”

I giggle despite his tone, rolling my eyes as I pet Fluffy anyway. “Relax. He’s not going to give me rabies.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

He mutters something under his breath, but doesn’t stop me as he watches like a hawk from a distance.

I stroke Fluffy’s back for a few long minutes, soaking in the quiet. When I finally glance back at Jasper, I notice how tired he looks—his posture tense, his shoulders tight. He drags a hand over his face.

“You okay?” I ask softly. “You look exhausted. I can go back to my room in the main house so you can get some sleep.”

He stares at me for a long moment before letting out a low sigh and sinking onto the ottoman beside me.

“Even if I went to bed, I wouldn’t sleep.”

My chest tightens. “Why not?”

The playful warmth in the room dims.

He’s quiet. Long enough that I think he won’t answer.

Then, finally, he does.

“My childhood was rough, rainbow,” he explains, voice low. “Still get nightmares. Insomnia. Most nights, I don’t sleep at all.”

My heart aches. “That’s awful.”

He shrugs like it’s just part of life. “Only time I ever sleep hard is when the girls make me watch a movie with them. I pass out on the couch like an old man.”

Without thinking, I shoot to my feet and kick off my shoes.

Jasper blinks at me. “What are you doing?”

I grab a throw blanket from the back of the couch and hold it up like a flag. “We’re watching a movie. If you’re going to look out for me, I’m going to help you get some sleep.”

He stares at me, eyes softening.

And for once, he doesn’t argue as he moves to one corner of the couch and practically collapses into the cushions.

* * *

Something jostles me, warm and solid, and I blink blearily, my thumb lodged in my mouth.

Then I realize I’m being lifted.

Strong arms cradle me, and that scent I’ve come to love surrounds me.

“What’s happening?”

Jasper’s voice rumbles in my ear, deep and low. “I’m taking you up to a guest room to tuck you in.”

“Mmm,” I sigh, snuggling into his chest. “You’re warm. And comfy. And you smell yummy.”

He groans under his breath, sounding almost pained. “Stop saying stuff like that, Little one, or I’m gonna do something I shouldn’t.”

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