Chapter 12
JULIAN
PP noses my hand, licking my fingers and pulling me from my third bout of daydreaming of the morning. It was the shortest kiss in history, and yet I’ve managed to think about it on a constant loop in my head for the last thirtysome hours.
No matter from what angle I look at it, I still haven’t pinned down who made the first move. I’m terrified it was me. A friend in need calls me in the middle of the night because he’s worried about his dog, and I respond by kissing him. Brilliant. Truly one of my best moments.
I scoff at myself and shake my head, tossing handfuls of chicken feed onto the ground for the girls to eat.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve picked up my phone to call or text Ranger after getting home from his place two nights ago, but so far, the best thing I’ve come up with is “sorry I attacked you with my face,” which seems woefully inadequate and probably not the best way to save our budding friendship.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway has my heart rate speeding up. No one ever comes out here, no one except Ranger. Well, he came once, but that feels like enough precedence for the hope fluttering in my stomach as I put the chicken feed away and walk briskly through the barn.
By the time I reach the other end, emerging where the driveway winds in front of the house, I’ve constructed a childish fantasy that Ranger is here to proclaim his undying love for me and that we’ll live happily ever after. This is what happens when you’re raised on too many Disney movies.
My heart lodges itself in my throat when I see him standing with his back to me, facing the house with tense shoulders, Benny glued to his side, wagging his tail slowly. PP grumbles at the sight of them, and I can’t help but chuckle at her less than welcoming attitude.
Ranger spins around and raises a hand in a tentative wave when he sees me, and I do the same. Pathetic much?
“If I do anything stupid like try to kiss him again, do me a favor and bite me,” I instruct Princess Pinecone. She sneezes, which I’m certain is a legally binding agreement.
Ranger and Benny make their way over.
“Hey,” he says when they reach us, then grimaces. I can almost hear him mentally berating himself for the lame greeting, and I bite back a sympathetic grin.
“Hey,” I echo, just to make him feel a little better. We stare at each other for a few heartbeats that seem to last the length of an entire millennium before I point my thumb at the barn.
“Want to pet Doc?” I offer because nothing fixes an awkward moment like a fluffy, deaf donkey.
He arches an eyebrow, then nods and follows me into the barn.
Doc is out grazing, so I guide Ranger through the stall and out the open door leading to his pasture.
Butler decided to join him today instead of being with the horses, and he glares at me from across the field, a long blade of grass hanging out of the side of his mouth as he plots my demise.
I changed his pink noodles for purple ones like Ranger suggested, but it hasn’t seemed to improve the goat’s disposition at all.
When we’re a few feet from Doc, the donkey startles, then pauses his grazing to nudge my hand. Ranger strokes his fingers carefully along Doc’s spine while Benny sniffs at the grass happily.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.
“Sorry,” he says at the exact same time.
We both laugh.
“Wait. Why are you sorry?” he asks.
“For kissing you.”
“That bad, huh?” His lips twist into an expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile, like even he’s not sure if he’s teasing or not.
“Too short to properly judge,” I answer diplomatically. “But why are you apologizing?”
“I was pretty sure I was the one who did the kissing.”
“You think so?” I lick my lips and forcibly focus my attention on petting Doc’s forehead. If Ranger thinks he’s the one who initiated the kiss, does that mean he wanted to kiss me? “I wasn’t sure you were even gay.”
“I’m not,” he answers, and my heart sinks. “I think I’m bi.”
I don’t think I could stop my grin if I tried. I jerk my head up so fast I nearly give myself whiplash. But before I can say anything, he goes on.
“There was this guy, but…” He trails off, his expression sober as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t really want to talk about him.”
I bob my head, burrowing my fingers again in Doc’s fur to keep myself from reaching for Ranger.
“Okay, so we’re two adults who just happened to kiss, initiator unknown,” I conclude. “It doesn’t have to ruin our friendship. We can pretend it didn’t happen.”
Now Ranger nods, his eyes seeming to be lost in a faraway world as he stares out over the field, his hand resting on the donkey’s shoulder without moving. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Don’t want to…?”
“Pretend it didn’t happen,” he clarifies, snapping himself out of his thoughts and focusing his gaze on me, sharp and captivating. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Oh.” Fudge nuggets, my mouth is dry. I swallow and drag my sandpaper tongue over my lips again. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Is Ranger even in a place to want a relationship? Friendship is much safer for both of us. “So—”
This time there’s no doubt about who kisses who.
Ranger cuts off my words with his mouth on mine.
Of course, all traces of cocoa are absent from his lips, but they still taste unbelievably sweet moving against mine.
I wrap my arms around his neck and press myself closer, parting my lips to deepen the kiss.
He seems to be on the same page and slips his tongue into my mouth, bunching the back of my shirt in his fists.
The hard bulge of his arousal meets mine, our bodies the right height to align perfectly. God, I’ve always loved a man I don’t have to crane to kiss.
A hard ram to my backside breaks the moment, sending me toppling into Ranger, taking us both down with a hard thud and a muffled oomph against his mouth. The self-satisfied bleat leaves no mystery as to who was responsible for the attack.
“What the hell just happened?” he asks, looking up with a dazed expression as I heave myself off him.
“A drive-by goating,” I answer with a deadpan expression, offering him my hand when I make it to my feet. We’re lucky this didn’t trigger an episode in him. Maybe because we were kissing? “Do you maybe want to come inside for a bit?”
It’s a good thing Butler interrupted when he did. Ranger and I need to finish talking before we get to all the fun, naked parts. And holy frijoles, do I hope there will be fun, naked parts. Nipple-biting, cum-soaked, sweaty, naked parts. Damn, I need to focus.
I shake the deliciously filthy thoughts from my mind and wait for Ranger’s answer.
“Yeah, that sounds good.” He brushes the dirt off his jeans and eyes Butler suspiciously. The goat has returned to his grazing like nothing ever happened, the purple pool noodles on his horns bobbing up and down as he works his way through the field.
Ranger follows me inside, the dogs right behind us. Benny barks with excitement when he sees his siblings in the house, and a sweet smile forms on Ranger’s lips.
“Do you think he misses them?” He nods towards the dogs as they wag and lick each other.
“Maybe on some level, but I think he’s happy to have a new pack with you too,” I assure him. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Just water,” he says, and I point him to the couch, then escape into the kitchen to catch my breath, get my wits about me, and pour us both some water.
PP comes along as well and flops down onto the cool linoleum floor with a grunt.
“Good job keeping me from kissing him.” I scoff, but she offers no apology, not even a contrite look. Some best friend she is. Although I can’t say that kiss was the worst thing that ever happened. I just need to figure out where Ranger’s head is and what it all means.