Chapter Twelve
Rex
One month later
I’m thinking about growing back the ‘stache
iggy
You’re an idiot
vale
Bro . . . no
y’all suck :/
Vale
Why do you want it? This must be coming from some deeper motivation.
wtf dude, did a shrink body snatch my best bro?
Iggy
Yup. His fake doctor wife. But V asks a good question. Why do you want that hideous thing back on your face?
Vale
REAL doctor. Fake wife.
it's sexy :/
Iggy
Says who? Have you asked the vag you’re hoping to push broom how she feels about bristles?
Are you stroking out, freak?
Vale
What Iggy means is that a well-manicured mustache can work for some ladies. Sometimes. That’s not what you had. Just go with some scruff and call it a day.
Iggy
Who are you trying to impress with a hairy upper lip anyway?
Birdie obviously
Iggy
a birdie, huh?
(?_ ??)
Vale
Nooooo
brb
laughing so hard I can’t breathe
(o_o) ┌∩┐
she's a PERSON you deviants!
Iggy
Ohhhh. THE Birdie. The one you bought a showerhead for, right? Did she love the detachable head? Oh, did she let you drive it? ;)
On second thought, keep the details to yourself.
“ I know the service is good up here, but how can you look at your phone with all this?” Birdie turns in a half circle, arms upraised, hair down, and cheeks flushed.
We hiked up the short trail from her house after lunch so I could show her the final touches of the viewing platform. One month in, and it’s done and dusted.
“Right. It’s beautiful.” I clear my throat and try not to think about her in the shower, but as the skirt of her sundress lifts higher, the fantasy eats at me. She has such glowy skin. But wet? Mmmm. I scratch my hairy chest, wishing I knew.
Birdie’s made good on her boundaries, I’ll say that. But boundaries were meant to be tested. I think someone really smart said that once.
In light of that, I work shirtless. Exclusively. It doesn’t matter that it’s November and the cold winds of winter are blowing in. I’m a demon. I run hot, hottest when I’ve got a goal in mind—seducing the pretty human I’m working for. She hasn’t cracked yet, but I catch her watching me when I’m digging holes or chopping wood or riding one of the horses. That spark is still there, I can feel it.
She makes her way over to the big-ass metal binoculars, the kind you might see in a zoo or along the edge of the Grand Canyon. Her fingers trace over all the shiny new details, from the eyeholes to the joints to the metal arms connecting it to the base, allowing the telescope part to tilt and swivel any which way. Sunlight shines in through the slats of the pergola’s roof I built overhead for shade and protection. I used more of the wood to make some long benches and a couple seven-foot tall weather-resistant signs. She’s getting some educational posters and shit to put in it soon, once I get some plexiglass sheets to protect them. I also found some smaller boulders nearby that, with the help of the horses, I was able to finagle into place for extra seating.
But it’s the jumbo binoculars that are the real centerpiece of the platform. The box it came in called it a viewing scope . It had a photo of them on the Empire State Building. Heavy as shit, come to find out. Took me two full days to install to my satisfaction. Fucker was expensive too, but Birdie came into a surprise payday a couple weeks ago when my actor buddy, Vale, rented the ranch to shoot a televised interview with him and his new fake wife. He’s in some holiday romcom movie coming out soon, I guess. It's a long story.
Birdie wants to buy a couple more of the scopes but she’s gonna wait to see how it holds up in the elements first. Smart girl.
She bends over and the gust of cool air lifts the hem of her dress in a flutter of fabric. She’s wearing tights, but she's built so thick from the waist down, they’re almost sheer over her plump thighs and the curve of her ass. Unless I’m seeing things, I think she may only be wearing a thong under that.
I bite my fist.
After our kitchen romp, Birdie informed me she got tested for STDs, worried that Randy left because he was cheating. Her results ended up coming back negative. As did mine when I checked. Demons and humans can’t normally conceive the old-fashioned way, so taking her bare isn’t as much of a risk. Now, it’s all I can imagine, my cum leaking out of her, filling her up again and again.
Being around Birdie every day is a delicious form of torture, specifically designed for me. If the judge knew, he’d be thrilled. He wouldn’t have bothered with community service. He’d have ordered her to do exactly what she’s doing. Fuck me like a sexual tornado then refuse to touch me for the remainder of my sentence.
I had that one fast-and-furious taste of her, buried deep inside all that heat with her wide-open eyes full of emotion showing me her entire world.
Totally open to me. Finally, my chance.
Then . . . nothing.
Even after all the oohing and aahing over the finished project, not a swoon in my arms, not a smacker on the lips, not even a full-body hug. Nothing but very animated thank-yous. Okay, that’s not nothing.
And I can’t say I don’t understand her reasoning for distance. I do.
I just have a counterargument. Fuck it is my argument. Hasn’t quite resonated with her yet.
“Looks pretty snazzy, huh?” I ask, trying to get a few more gasps and compliments. I’m eating that shit up.
“Rex, it’s incredible!” She comes closer, curls swirling in the wind, never looking more beautiful. I played some small part in that, in seeing more of her smiles and less of the tears. Not that she lets me see her crying. Birdie Lynn is real good at keeping her feelings hidden, but I hear her sniffling all the same. I don’t think she’s used to sharing space with anybody, so her walls are lower out here than the months we circled each other back at her mom’s over Thursday dinners.
“Ow! Shit!” My ankle stings like it got chopped with a tiny machete. “What the f—”
“Lemmy, no!” Birdie tugs the leash connected to her prairie dog’s tiny harness back. For a few glorious seconds, I forgot the little shit was up here with us. He’s getting some mobility back in his broken leg and has been connected to her like glue lately.
“Baked potato rat,” I whisper. He hates me for some reason.
She kneels down to pull him back. “I’m sorry. Did he break skin?”
I pull up my pant leg but it’s just an angry-looking, dark imprint. “I’m fine.”
The fact she’s nearly always got one, if not half a dozen, animals surrounding her hasn’t been in my favor for the seduce-the-daylights-out-of-Birdie-Lynn mission. And this fucker is one of the worst offenders.
A squawk precedes the arrival of the horny wood owl. Speak of death itself.
“Sunny!”
Her feathered friend was released into the wild months ago but still drops in for treats and pets. Apparently, she wasn’t supposed to hand-feed them, so now they have a name and are basically part of the family. She scratches their head and their dark eyes flutter closed. But the second I move closer, it pops back up and cocks its head to the side, regarding me coolly. I can almost feel their venom singing through my veins, and they haven’t even bit me yet. The threat and intention couldn’t be more clear. I’ve gotta find some animal allies, and these two aren’t it.
Birdie coaxes Sunny to fly off and turns back to me.
“I’ll never be able to thank you enough. Seriously.” She ties Lemmy to the viewing scope and rushes to her big backpack. “I almost forgot! I have a surprise for you.” She digs around and pulls out a tall rectangular box. It looks so familiar.
Then it hits me. “Holy Darkness.”
“Yep.” She grins. “It’s our shop class project. A little worse for wear, but only because it’s seen good use. I wanted to install it up here somewhere.”
“You kept it,” I whisper, taken back to that winter afternoon years ago, how I’d put off that last coat of paint just to have another day with her.
“Of course.” She looks at me like I’m crazy as I close the distance. “The first thing I did when I moved into the property was put it up on my back porch.”
My chest squeezes as I stare at her. Those midnight eyes suck me in every time. The fact I can’t kiss the fuck out of her right now is so unfair.
“I can build you another one,” I finally manage to croak. “A bigger one. We could do it together.” Mother Below, I sound pathetic, and maybe she sees it because her eyes shift away and she squeezes me in a hug. Not a full-body one, but a careful side hug since we're both still holding the structure in a hand.
I take a deep breath. My thumb traces the faded design of a window she drew on the side with Sharpie, remembering how I sourced the white ash from the scrap pile after she did some research and realized it’d be the most attractive for the fireflies.
Dropping my face to the top of her head, I inhale the scent of her hair, just letting the moment breathe.
“This just feels right ,” she says. “It’s all like a dream come true.”
I know she means to say turning this cement slab into a viewing platform is her dream come true, but fuck it, I'm reading more into it. We work so well together. Surely she’s starting to see it.
“Making decisions for yourself isn’t half bad, huh?” I squeeze her side.
“I guess not.” She squeezes me back and turns her face to my shoulder. “You smell, by the way.”
Swiftly, I grab her hair in a fist and tug until she’s looking at me only to see a sassy slant to her smile. “That so?”
Minx. Joke’s on her, because after our little romp I know she likes the way I smell. I know more of her secrets every day.
“You should really start wearing shirts. The first snow will be any day now.”
“Mhmm.” I think she's playing hard to get.
She pats the palm of her hand on my belly before shoving my arm off and stepping back. Still, I catch the swallow as her gaze drifts slowly away from my body. I’m a big boy, soft where other dudes are Dorito shaped, but she likes what she sees. Even if she won’t admit to it easily.
When it comes to Birdie, I don’t forget a thing. She’s never once said that what we did was a mistake or a regret or even wrong . Inappropriate, sure. Inappropriate I can work with. Birdie's a rule follower, through and through.
I basically strong-armed her into our demon's deal, giving me the chance to volunteer at the ranch. I need to bust my ass to show her it was the right decision, that she's getting nothing but good out of it. I need to make the rules work for me. Not my specialty, but with this twist of fate in my favor, putting Birdie and me in daily contact, I'll do whatever it takes to have another taste of her.
“Alright boss, what’s next?” I set the weathered habitat on a bench and brush some nonexistent dust off my chest before pointing to the right with both arms. If I flex a little, who’s to say. “We’ve got that other cement pad to do something with. There’s still plenty of wood left, but if you want a full cabin I’ll need about a truckload of supplies.” The two sites are only a couple hundred feet from each other.
She bites the inside of her cheek and I know there’s something on her mind but she just needs the confidence to say it.
“What about a tent?” she asks.
I nod, even though I have no idea what she’s getting at. Tents don’t need wood and would blow off the hill with a strong wind, but I don’t want to negative Nelly her when I know there’s more to the idea.
“Have you ever seen the fancy glamping-type ones?” Her hands move in swirling motions and the excitement starts bubbling out. “I’ve been doing some research and it’s not too expensive, good for the outdoors, and a really versatile option for a multifunctional space.”
“Nerd.” Always with the big fancy words.
She rolls her eyes “Okay, so if we make a permanent frame from wood and get it secured to the foundation, it’ll be really stable. The canvas fabric on the sides could be utilized in different ways. I’m thinking half-open with a flat sunshade, it could serve as an outdoor classroom for kids’ field trips or community groups, giving them easy access between here and the viewing platform. But, we could also fully close it in if visiting scholars need to stay overnight, like for longer research trips. Can you imagine? Helping real wildlife research? Getting to chat with them over dinner on the patio?”
She’s practically vibrating and I want to pinch her cheeks so bad, but by some strength of will hold back. “Real smart, Birdie Lynn.”
“Oh no.” Her jaw ticks side to side. “The barn’s bathroom is way too far. People would need a toilet at a minimum, for accessibility. Maybe it wouldn’t work.”
I’m not about to let her second guess herself now.
“Ecotoilets are simple as shit, pun intended, and don’t need running water,” I say. “Plus, for overnight stays, the researchers can rough it with a camper’s sink and bag shower if they don’t want to clean up at the barn. You could always give the horses or those lazy blacknose goats a workout carting up a couple jerricans of water.”
She grins. “Fun fact: Goats were among the first animals to ever be domesticated, likely over 9,000 years ago. Plus, you’re right. They could probably use the exercise.”
“Nerd.” I poke her nose. “Sounds like a good fit then. I can figure out how to rig a clean and gray water setup that’s easy to manage. No frills, though.”
“No frills is fine. You really think it’d work?”
“Fuck, yeah. People love that zero-waste, eco-friendly shit, especially if they’re all morally upstanding animal lovers like yourself.”
“Morally upstanding?” she teases, poking my side.
I shrug. “If the shoe fits.”
“Like your shirts clearly don’t?” She sticks out her tongue, but can’t hide her smile. I try to pinch it but she dances back.
Man, oh man, Birdie’s a tough nut to crack when she sets her mind to something. And that something, right now, is not fucking me. I did get a hug just now though. Progress is being made. Maybe it’s time to push.
“I’m a hot-blooded, virile, young demon. Shirts are unnecessary.”
“You’re thirty-one Rex.”
“We both are. Age is a state of mind, honey.” And she didn’t say I wasn’t virile. I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Anyway, laundry’s a bitch when you live in a barn.” If she’d only let me sleep on the couch, get a little closer—
“It was your prerogative to live on property. You agreed to that deal. Besides, you have free rein of my washroom and kitchen as long as you give me a heads-up.”
Because she doesn’t want me sniffing around when she’s scantily clad or naked or showering. Speaking of showering . . .
“You ever get that showerhead I gifted you?”
“Showerhead?” She blinks for a second then makes the connection. “Oh! When that came in, I thought you bought it for the barn bathroom. For yourself. I put it in there.”
“It was a wedding gift.”
She rears back. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have brought up the whole getting jilted thing.
“I-I gave back all the wedding gifts already,” she stammers. “Um, just keep it. Install it in the barn or mail it home or-or it’s probably still in the return window. I could check online to initiate a refund and drop it by the—”
“It’s for you,” I interrupt, stepping closer. “I bought it for one reason and one reason only.” I grasp a curl and tuck it behind her ear, letting my thumb rub along the delicate curve and pinch the satin-soft lobe.
“Why?” she asks, quiet as a whisper.
“So you could jill off in the shower and think of me.”
Her jaw drops. “Even when . . . You didn't!”
I grin. “You know I did.”
“Evil!” She snorts and smacks my chest. I grab her hand tight and place it, palm down, over my heart.
Flirting with this woman is always a dance on the razor-thin edge of disaster and delight.
“Your kind of evil?” I bend lower and run my nose along her hairline. Fuck, she always smells so good, a night-blooming flower you can only catch once in a blue moon. The kind you wait for. Her arousal coats my throat and tongue, so thick in the air between us it’s making me crazy.
Just before my lips brush her forehead, she steps back.
“I have a power dynamic over you.” Her hand falls from my chest, and for the first time today, I feel cold. Half naked. “It can’t happen again. We need boundaries. If this is what you really want, to volunteer here.”
“It’s not what I want.” My jaw clenches. I take a breath when she makes a sharp inhale, needing to set her straight. “I don’t mind the work, Birdie Lynn. I’ll work like a dog for you, sunup to sundown, but it’s not what I want. What I want is you. That smart mouth of yours, that wet pussy on my face. I want to fuck you in every room of your house. In your car. Outdoors. Doesn’t fucking matter as long as I get another taste of that fire you’re hiding.”
She shivers, breaths going short. I don’t think Birdie’s familiar with the kind of intensity I feel for her. It’s new for me too.
“But boundaries are what you need, hmm?” I ask. “Space?”
“I think-I think it’s the best idea.”
I huff, and maybe I’m crazy but I see a crack in the wall she’s got between us. It’s not what she needs. The way she stuttered or the bland way she described boundaries as the best idea . It reeks of the way she called Randy her best option . For once, the reminder doesn’t eat at me.
Birdie’s practical to a fault. Thoughtful. She doesn’t let herself have fun or feel much of anything just because. I aim to change that, but I also need to be patient, let her come to me. I can’t help but leave her with a rational argument though.
“You’re not my supervisor. We’re doing each other a favor. As equals. A bargain between two adults. And if I recall correctly, our deal didn’t involve intimacy between us at all. That was never on the table. Your exact words were ‘ You work for me until your probation is over. I let you live here and vouch for you with the court .’ That’s it. That’s all we agreed to.”
She takes it in, swallows, and her hand lifts up. For one stupid second I think it’ll land on my cheek, that she’ll lean in and—
Buzz. Buzz.
The bracelet she wears as my designated Community Service Compliance Officer lights up in green, as I’m sure the embarrassing clamp on my stupid horn does.
“You’ve done way more than twenty hours this week. Maybe you should take some time off,” she says with a courtesy smile. Her opposite hand fiddles with the bracelet like it’s a physical reminder of the barrier between us, even though that’s hogshit. “I didn’t want to forget to log your hours today. Doing it online is a pain.”
“Government websites are trash.”
“True.”
And we’re back to small talk. Cute.
That’s okay, though. We’ve made progress even if I pushed a little too far just now. I’ve got time, plenty of time to win her over. My phone beeps.
“It’s my brother,” I mumble. Again. He keeps pestering me about final prep for the new Perkatory locations. Easy shit he could answer if he just did a web search. I explain that the designer needs to use drywall screws for hanging the art instead of nails. On a whim, I send him a few photos of the completed project with the viewing scope. “I’ve really gotta get him up to see this sometime.”
“Maybe you’ll find a shirt for the occasion?” she jokes, bringing us back to the comfort zone of snarkiness.
“Not a chance.” I tuck my phone away again. I’m made of tougher stuff than that, especially when I’ve got a woman to woo.
Sleeping with her was probably a mistake. To be fair, we didn't sleep at all. We fucked and it was glorious. Naw, screw that. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. If it goes down as my most epic fuckup, I have zero regrets, though winning her over again will be complicated.
She's not in a place to take me seriously, not that I'm a serious guy who deserves her by any stretch of the imagination. Who says she’d even want you? the asshole in my head whispers. She fucked you because you were on your way out of town. You were just the wrong guy at the right time.
I shake of my head, telling that part of me to fuck off. My penance continues. I’m going to be a fucking good guy for once.
“Would you be okay if I invited him over sometimes? Maybe after I finish the fancy tent idea.”
“Of course!” She looks around at the wooden structure, the empty education sign, and the viewing scope at the overlook with a small smile. “Especially since I took you away from your work at Perkatory. Oh, and Noelle! They should both come out for a visit. Maybe dinner or . . .” Her eyelashes flutter, and she looks away. It takes me a second to realize what has her retreating. The reason she hasn’t left the ranch in over a month.
“The last time they were out here was probably that fucked up surprise engagement, huh?”
She shrugs more than nods, but that’s a yes. She hasn’t stepped foot back in Winter Bliss and is dodging her friends' calls. Her mom comes by with groceries, but Birdie isn’t ready to talk about much with anyone.
My first probation meeting is in a couple days. She offered to drive me but looked so fucking anxious I told her I’d take Mimi instead. The younger horse can always use the exercise and it’ll help test how she does without her mom for a longer trip.
Probation terms say I can’t drive a car, which makes horses fair game as far as I’m concerned. And I’ve sworn off alcohol altogether. Fuck that shit. I make enough bad decisions dead sober.
“I want them to come visit,” she says. “Especially to see all the work you’ve done. I just—It’s so embarrassing. Did you know that night was supposed to be a relaunch of the ranch as Wild Hearts Retreat?”
“Corny name.”
“Rex!” She swats me with the back of her hand and I grab it again. At this point, she should know that’s what’s gonna happen. My thumb rolls over her knuckles, and she doesn’t snatch it back, just keeps talking. “It was my idea. The Wild Hearts part, at least. The Retreat was Randy’s, a way to market the cabins to the kinds of high-end tourists he was trying to attract. That dinner was a way to get our name out there with local friends. The engagement was just, well it was a business decision more than anything.” She shakes her head.
The idea of that doucheburger and Birdie together is like a fucking rusty sword through my spleen. I can’t help but sneer, my heart squeezing with rage at what he did to her. And still, radio silence from the chucklefuck. It’s been weeks and he’s supposedly still in Greece, living it up. Snot-nosed cockbag.
“You really hate the name?”
I glare at her. Randy? Of course.
“Wild Hearts?” Birdie asks with a small voice. “I actually wanted to call it Wild Hearts Sanctuary. That’s probably even cornier.”
A sanctuary.
Fuck. That’s exactly what this place is.
And Wild Hearts was her idea. The realization makes my chest ache. She probably meant the name to symbolize every stinky, broken animal she comes across that she tucks into her pocket and makes whole again through early morning feedings and late-night research and mounting vet bills that all get covered on a shoestring budget.
Wild Hearts Sanctuary.
I see the name in a new light.
She’s the beating, bleeding heart of this place, the one who gives everything to those who have no chance of survival otherwise. The one who makes them strong enough to be wild again, gives them a safe place to heal and grow.
Damn. In a twisted way, maybe I’m one of them. I’m living in her barn for fuck’s sake. I needed her help and despite being an absolute moron ninety percent of the time I’m around her, she took me in.
But if there’s one thing I’m sure of with Birdie? She doesn’t pity me. Or the animals for that matter. Her goodness is straight from the heart. And every little confidence she gives me, each tender moment, like this one right here, is a gift. A treasure I sock away. Something I refuse to fuck up now.
“No. I get it,” I say, my voice scratchy. “A sanctuary is exactly what this place is.” I squeeze her hand and bring it to my lips. “And the wildest heart out here is yours.”
I’ll be damned if it won’t be mine one day.