Chapter 7 #2
“I’m not scared of them. I just don’t like them.”
“How can you not? Look at these cute faces.” I squatted down, laughing as a couple goats attempted to crawl up my body and one head-butted me.
Brady folded his arms over his chest and leveled me with a stare that did things no single look should have had the power of doing. “You’re only saying that because you weren’t here for the Goat Incident of 2017.”
I snorted—I couldn’t help it. Brady had delivered the line with as much weight as he would the report of a serial killer on the loose. “‘The Goat Incident of 2017,’ huh? Sounds like the premise for a very boring documentary. Has Netflix gotten in touch yet?”
“No, but Mabel was all over it.” Ford darted his gaze to Brady before returning it to me. “It was the talk of the town for at least three months after it happened. Betty’s vegetable garden never recovered.”
“Not to mention the knocked-over beehives,” Beck said. “I had to use store-bought honey for months.”
“It was pandemonium,” Brady agreed.
I stood and rolled my eyes. “Only you would think a bunch of goats loose in town was pandemonium.”
“He’s just uneasy because of how many tried to head-butt him in the junk,” Ford said with a shrug as he walked backward.
“I’ve gotta run. Addison’s got a list for me a mile long, but have fun with all that.
” He gestured toward the enclosure before turning around and heading in the direction of the main inn.
The mention of Brady’s junk was all it took to have my gaze snapping to it like a magnet, remembering exactly how hard and solid he’d been against me during our kiss.
He cleared his throat, and I shot my eyes up to his, my cheeks flaming over being caught ogling him.
He pinned me with an unreadable gaze, one brow raised slightly, but there was no way I was explaining why I was looking in the general vicinity of his dick as if desperate for X-ray vision.
“Am I early?” a feminine voice asked, and I jumped at the interruption, as if I were a teen caught looking at porn. A woman walked toward us, her stride one that said she was on a mission. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had a bright smile on her face.
“Late, actually,” Beck grumbled.
“You’re here for the class?” I asked, though that much was obvious by the rolled-up yoga mat she had slung over her shoulder.
“I am,” she said, sticking out her hand for me. “I’m Everly. We haven’t officially met yet.”
“Luna,” I said, returning her smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your first time with goats?”
“First time doing yoga with them, yes, but not my first time with goats. I’m the vet in town, so I was there for the birth of all these beauties. But I don’t get nearly enough time with them. I skipped my morning jog so I wouldn’t miss it.”
Beck studied her, his gaze tracking over her from head to toe, as if to make sure she was still in working order. “When you didn’t show up for your morning coffee, I was hoping it was something I said.”
Everly laughed and patted his biceps. “So those twelve texts demanding to know where I was and that I was okay were just, what? Butt-dials?”
Beck grunted some semblance of a nonanswer before turning and stalking off, Everly’s laugh directed at his retreating form.
I may have been new to town and didn’t know all the ins and outs of the residents and their varied relationships, but there was no denying something was going on there. “What’s that all about?”
“What? That?” Everly pointed to Beck’s retreating form then shrugged. “Beck being Beck.”
“Why do you care what’s going on with them?” Brady asked, a hard edge to his voice that was ever-present around me.
“Oh good, I see you brought your bad attitude to class so we can work through that with some deep breathing.” I grinned at him, gesturing toward the makeshift gate. “You’re wasting time, Sheriff.”
“Aren’t we waiting for the rest of your class?”
“We’re here!” Mabel called, waving her hand wildly as she hurried down the path, three other gray-haired ladies trailing after her, all wearing spandex. “Save me a mat, would you? I just need to do a quick intro.”
She fumbled with her phone before holding it out in front of her, her back to me as she spoke to the screen.
“Seriously?” Brady said as he held open the gate for the other newcomers to enter in front of him. “I don’t think yoga necessitates a Facebook Live, Mabel.”
I snorted, knowing full well how much he loathed the older woman’s penchant for getting in the way of official business with her special brand of reporting. And let me tell you, I was here for it.
“It’s goat yoga, thank you very much.” Mabel sniffed, sliding her phone into her pocket. “Besides, I thought you’d be all for a Live that showcases more of your family’s resort. Am I wrong?”
Brady grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like nosy old woman is going to be the death of me, but before I could call him on it, he stepped into the enclosure and shut the makeshift gate behind him.
With his eyes tracking the erratic movements of the baby goats, he strolled straight for a mat at the back, but I shook my head before he got settled.
“Not so fast, Sheriff. I saved you a spot. Right up front.” I gestured to the mat directly in front of me.