Chapter 15
The rough callouses of his palm scratch against mine as we walk hand in hand towards the barn. I have no idea where we are going. I’m following his lead.
“Do you want to talk about what happened with your brother?” Oakley asks, his cowboy boots scuffing against the ground with every step.
After the heated kiss we shared, we rushed into the house to get changed, and now he has a picnic basket in one hand with a blanket stuffed under his arm.
My exasperated sigh is louder than I mean for it to be.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but it seemed serious.”
I step over a thick tree root protruding from the ground. “It was. It is. We’ll be fine. He’s worried.”
“About you and me,” he adds to the sentence I cut short.
“Unfortunately. He thinks you’re taking my focus away from what’s really important. He tossed our parents in my face, saying it wasn’t fair to them that I’m not focused on the tornadoes but on…” I debate if I want to use the same crass words Ruka said. “On temporary dick.”
Oklahoma stops mid-step, our hands tugging when I’ve walked further than he has. I spin around, staring at the angry, bright red eyes burning with rage.
“He said that to you? He said those exact words?” His fangs show, his features become slightly sharper.
A regular person probably wouldn’t be able to see the difference, but I can. His cheekbones are more pronounced, the natural contour of his cheeks deepening.
“No man should speak to a woman like that. What else did he say?”
“He thinks I’m ruining my life for you. He doesn’t understand.
He doesn’t have the entire picture, Oklahoma.
Ruka is being the protective brother. He doesn’t know you’re a vampire or that we are fated mates.
Or that pregnancy would happen so quickly.
To be honest, I’m still wrapping my head around that.
So yes, you have changed my future from what I imagined it to be, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy with the change.
” I step closer to him and take his hand again.
“The way I see it, my future is the same, but it only took on a different shape.” I trace the sharp edge of his cheek, watching my vampire relax in real time.
The garnet embers recede to a beautiful blue. His cheeks fill, and his fangs retract. The human part of him takes over, handsome and rugged, while his vampire is dangerous and exhilarating. I’m in love with him. Either side of him. He is mine; no matter what anyone has to say about it.
“I don’t care what he says, Oklahoma. He could yell at me from sun up to sun down about it, but if I still show up, there’s nothing he can say to prove me wrong. He’s only worried.”
“He doesn’t need to speak to you that way if he’s worried,” he sneers, taking off his cowboy hat to wipe his forehead on the back of his head. “There’s a way to go about it. He will respect you when he speaks to you, Nariko,” he says it in a way that leaves zero room for argument.
I drag him by the hand, needing him to walk again. I still want my tour of this gorgeous property.
“I know him. He doesn’t get this way unless he is scared.
He probably thinks he is losing me. We are very close.
We always have been. When we were kids in Hawaii, he protected me.
He’s been my best friend. There has never been anyone else in my life.
It’s just been the two of us and our parents.
We’re close with them too, and they helped invest in Dust Bunnies, so there is more pressure to succeed than you think.
“Being a chaser isn’t easy. The money is hard-earned, and this is what we love to do. They are my family too. It’s important I take care of them and do my job.”
“We.”
“What?”
He spins me around, and I thud against his chest. “We. We will take care of them because if they are your family, they are my family too.”
“My Kokoro.”
“What’s that mean?” he asks, twirling me again, and this time, the warm sun hits my face. The morning dew splashes onto my legs with every twirl.
“It means, you’re my heart. And we can’t live without our hearts, can we?”
He tugs me to him again, his hard body against the softness of my own. “No. No, we can’t.”
“We’re fated, right? Our souls have always been connected.”
“That’s right.” The sun’s rays reflect off his eyes and specs of red glimmer, the part of him that’s waiting to make himself known.
A loud noise interrupts our moment. I freeze, knowing exactly what that noise belongs to.
Kevin.
I spin around to see the black, red, and white feathered rooster charge at me with his wings spread. I scream and jump to the left to get out of his way.
To my surprise, I’m not one of his targets today.
“Ah, Kevin! Damn it.” Oklahoma could use his abilities to run away from the rooster, and yet he doesn’t.
I suppose it wouldn’t be as fun that way.
“You’re so damn temperamental. What the fuck!” Oklahoma jumps over him, Kevin shouting his anger. “Marvin! Come get your friend. Marv!”
I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a laugh, but it’s too much to hide. I’m doubled over laughing at Oklahoma running away from Kevin.
Marvin saunters out of the barn, chewing hay that is hanging out of his mouth. He stays in the shade, his little tail swiping back and forth. Marvin sits as if he is watching the show.
Do pigs laugh? Because I swear, the squeals have shorter intervals.
“I’m going to cook you, Kevin! I’m sick of this behavior!” Oklahoma shouts when Kevin soars through the air, fluffy feathers floating to the ground.
That’s all that’s left behind in his rooster fury.
Dust clouds kick up as Oklahoma dodges left and right, turning at sharp angles to keep Kevin on his toes. My mate slides right and launches himself across the ground, snagging the rooster in his hands. Oklahoma holds Kevin’s wings down and walks towards the chicken coop where the hens are.
“You menace. You’re an evil son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?”
I giggle, watching Oklahoma cough from the dust clouds they stirred up from the ruckus.
Kevin crows as if it is early morning, clearly the rooster’s way of cursing at someone.
He places Kevin down and locks the coop, pointing a finger at him. “You’re in time out.” Oklahoma brushes the dirt off his jeans, then heads over to where his hat fell off. “And you!” He points to Marvin next. “You just sat there and did nothing.”
Marvin lies down in the sun, snorting in an uncaring, sleepy way.
“I rescued the two of you, and now you’re spoiled rotten,” Oklahoma grumbles.
“Kevin is nothing but trouble.” I pick up the picnic basket and blanket, hoping the plan for the tour is still on the table after the small rooster fiasco. “You…aren’t really going to cook him, are you?” I might not like Kevin, but I don’t want him to die either.
Oklahoma takes the basket and blanket from me.
“No, Sugar. I’d never do anything like that.
I don’t kill my animals. I rescue them. Even when I sell my cattle, it’s for breeding.
I have a strict no-kill policy in my contracts.
I also have dairy cows who provide milk, and they have top-of-the-line facilities. ”
I let out a relieved breath and loop my arm through his. “What made you rescue animals? Who was your first rescue? I know you said your brother liked animals, but there has to be more to the story, right?”
He opens the state-of-the-art barn; the tall doors seem as high as the sky, and when we step inside, it isn’t sticky or humid. He must have it temperature-controlled.
There’s a familiar scent that slams into my face that can only belong on a ranch or farm.
The earthy scent of hay hangs in the air, paired with horse manure.
Barn kittens meow when they see Oklahoma and run to him.
They come out from the dark corners, their little legs unable to keep up with their speed.
“Oh my god! Kittens!” I squeal, kneeling on the floor to pet them. “I didn’t know you had cats.”
“Any good rancher would. Cats are great for keeping pests under control. I thought all the cats I rescued were fixed, but Maybelle here”—he leans down and scratches the back of a white and grey cat that must be the mom—“surprised me with kittens last month. I’ll need to make an appointment when the kittens wean off the milk to get her spayed. ”
“Oh, my goodness. They are so cute.” I pick one up that has one blue eye and one a deep amber. She’s black and white, with orange specs all over her that remind me of freckles. “Oh, who are you? You are adorable.” She purrs when I scratch under her chin.
“You want to keep her? She’s yours, Sugar. Just say the word.”
I gasp with excitement. “Really? I can keep her? I can bring her inside the house?”
“You can have whatever you want, Nariko. I’ll always make sure of that.” He swings open a stall door and leads Van Gogh outside, tying him to a wooden post.
I can’t help but watch Oklahoma in his element. My gaze locks onto his biceps as he picks up what looks like a pad of some sort and places it on Van Gogh’s back. Oakley pets him with long strokes to the neck before swinging the saddle on and positioning it in place. He makes it seem so effortless.
He walks around his horse, checking both sides and making sure the saddle is secure.
“Van Gogh was my first rescue.” Oklahoma pats his horse’s thick neck.
“He was brought to a slaughterhouse and was in horrible condition. He was skin and bone, clearly tired from being put to work so much. I rescued him and every horse there. One by one, I found them all homes and even kept a few. They roam with the wild mustangs I have about a hundred acres back. Van Gogh didn’t want to go with them.
He stayed near me and doesn’t really like to be around other horses.
Then, when I saw I could make a difference, I started rescuing more.
I love it. I can’t imagine doing anything else.
My brother is the main reason I started this, but I found I loved it so much, I wanted to do it for me too. ”