Page 9 of Forbidden Hearts
“Right, but we live in Sugarloaf,” I remind him. “Which means you never actually get called in because nothing happens. You do know I’m a cop’s daughter, right?”
Asher clenches his jaw. “Did your dad not explain everything?”
He did, but I wasn’t agreeing to those terms. There’s no way I am staying in Asher’s house. Not a chance. I live exactly eleven minutes away.
“There’s no need for me to move in here, especially since this probably won’t last a week. You’ll get your replacement. I’ll go back to my big plans.”Of sitting in bed and regretting my life choices.“All that before I could even unpack.”
“Yes, because nannies who also know ASL are so plentiful in the area. If that were the case, I would have one.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re cheap and won’t pay them what they’re worth.” Seriously, when Daddy told me what the pay was, impressed was not the word I would use.
“I’m not cheap. According to the agency, the pay was extremely fair and people would be lined up.”
“And, yet, here I am.”
“Not a nanny. Let’s not forget I was there when the last kid you babysat almost died.”
I knew it was coming. “Does Olivia have any allergies I should know about?” I ask, sugary sweet.
“No, which is why you’re allowed here.”
I let out a long sigh. “Look, you think I’m irresponsible, and I think you’re a big jerk, but this is the only option you have. I am not sixteen anymore. I’m twenty-four, a college graduate, and am working toward my doctorate in audiology. Okay? I am smart, focused, driven,andI know ASL.”
I am also the opposite of all those things at the moment, but my little speech wouldn’t have been as impactful otherwise.
“Eighteen,” he says.
“What?”
“You were eighteen when Olivia cut her hair.”
“Okay?” I’m not really seeing the point here, but no need to fight about semantics.
“I’m pointing out that you were older than sixteen when you screwed up.”
“I’m really sorry that happened. I explained it a hundred times, but you weren’t hearing me. I promise that won’t happen again.”
He laughs once. “Yes, because she’s not three.”
“And I’m not eighteen. So, look at that, we both grew up some.” This is really getting on my nerves. “I’m doing you a favor, Asher. No need to be a dick about it.”
He sighs loudly, running his hands through his dark hair. “I’m not trying to be a dick. It’s just that Olivia is my world, and I was already hesitant about this agency thing, but Sara was adamant I go through them, so I did. Then the only nanny they have who knows ASL quit, so they suggested I have Livvy write everything down instead of sign. I just . . . I tried to take leave, but your dad needs me since I’m the SWAT leader for the county. You’re right, neither of you are little anymore, it’s been six years, and you have managed to make it through college without any major fuckups.”
I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not about to offer up my errors. “Thanks.”
He smiles softly, and those damn eyes are all molten lava as they stare at me. For a second, I forget this is Asher Whitlock—my father’s employee and a big jerk who hates me—and only see every woman’s dream. He’s a hot, older, freaking SWAT leader, who has his life together, and did I mention hot? Too bad he’s also a huge grump—except with Olivia.
I shake my head, coming back to reality and my decision to never like another man for eternity. They’re the worst. “I appreciate you saying it. Is Livvy awake? I haven’t seen her in a while, so I would like her to be comfortable with me before you go.”
“Let me grab her. My sister will probably stop by after work. Brynlee has some new clothes and other things for her that Sara will never approve of.”
“Is your sister still working for Sydney?”
“Yeah, she loves it.”
Sydney is one of my favorite people in Sugarloaf. I worked for her when I came home after my freshman year of undergrad because I was sure I wanted to be a lawyer. It all changed my sophomore year when I met Jenny. She was my roommate and had lost her hearing when she was nine. I learned ASL so we could talk easier, and then I found myself drawn to her story about how she lost her hearing and the things she wished were different.
The language itself isn’t the same as speaking. You don’t say every word with your hands and the words are signed in a different order than you’d speak them, but it makes it easier to say what you need to faster. However, I’ve learned how to mentally translate ASL into a full spoken sentence.
