Depends on Who's Asking - Lani Lynn Vale Page 0,17
wants to talk to you.”
“Saint?” she said. “Who’s that?”
“Saint’s the man that I’m in quarantine with. Daddy didn’t tell you that?” I asked.
“No.” She drew that one syllable out for long enough that I realized she wasn’t happy I hadn’t told her in the first place. “Is he a nice guy? Is he hot?”
Saint grinned wickedly at me, and I closed my eyes and let my head bounce off the headboard a few times when I said, “You’re on speakerphone, and he can hear every word you say.”
She snorted out a laugh. “Oops.”
“Did any of the neighbors see anything suspicious?” Saint asked. “Did they have any of their camera systems working?”
“That’s what Michael’s doing right now,” she said. “Canvassing the area to ask the neighbors if they did. Are you the Saint who is on the SWAT team?”
Saint made an agreeing sound. “I’m the new Saint that replaced the old Saint.”
My mom started to giggle. “Y’all are such weirdos. I bet you’re no more of a saint than my own.”
I looked at Saint to gauge his reaction to her laugh.
He was grinning, so I knew that he wasn’t offended.
“That is highly likely,” he agreed. “I have a couple of buddies I can call. They’re in surveillance. They can help out if needed.”
“If we need anything, I’ll let Michael know, and he’ll get in touch. I just wanted my girl to know that I was on top of the issues.”
Five seconds later, after a round of ‘I love yous’ on both of our parts, she hung up.
I dropped my phone down to my side and looked at the bare room around us.
• • •
SAINT
I didn’t like seeing that look in her eyes.
Not at all.
I liked the playful, give me shit, girl. Not the one that looked sad.
“Couldn’t they have just quarantined us at our own houses?” she asked crossly. “I mean, at least at home, I have a lot of my own stuff. I have chairs. And clothes that aren’t brand new and not washed.”
I hated itchy things, so I knew what she meant by that.
Hence the reason I wasn’t currently wearing a shirt.
I gestured to the shirt on the floor with a nod of my head.
“I don’t think I’ve worn a shirt with a tag since the option of ‘tagless’ became a thing.” I crossed one leg over my opposite one. “As for your question about why not at home, I would say it’s more because here they can control us. Here, we don’t pull a fuckin’ Martin who started all of this and go possibly infect everyone that pissed us off in our life. Here, they can monitor who does and doesn’t get to visit us. They can monitor our bodies as well.”
“They haven’t even been in here,” she pointed out. “In fact, when they bring supplies or food, they tell us to back away and then push it into the room without looking at us.”
“True,” I agreed. “But I’m in here with you. You don’t think I’d kick up a stink if something started to happen to you that was bad?”
She crossed her arms over her chest with a grumble, and my eyes were once again drawn to her breasts. Her unbound breasts because, apparently, when she didn’t have to, she didn’t wear a bra.
I’d found that out when she’d come out of the shower last night after we’d eaten.
She hadn’t put one on since.
And her breasts weren’t the type of breasts that you could just leave unbound and someone not notice.
If I made it out of this quarantine without taking advantage of her, it would be a goddamn Christmas miracle.
Working out with her earlier had been terrible. Seeing her breasts jiggle and shake with her movement was downright control destroying. That had to be why I’d told her anything at all about my tattoo. If I’d been under the right mindset, shit would’ve totally been different. I wouldn’t have said a goddamn word.
“I wish we had a Christmas tree or something,” Carolina grumbled as she looked at the bare room. “Or a chair for that matter. Possibly some washed clothes that don’t feel like they came straight from Walmart and itch like a motherfucker.” She kicked the covers at the bottom of the bed. “I don’t understand why they can’t get us these things. It’s no fun.”
I stared at her for a few seconds before turning on the television again and giving what I wanted to do some thought.
Since I did have the connections, I sent a