4. EION #2
I reopened the account to find that the balance hadn’t changed and was fifteen thousand dollars higher than it should have been.
I had a few big donations, but never unsolicited and usually only after I hosted an event specifically to help fund the Sanctuary.
Almost all of my own money went into the land, but day-to-day costs were hit-or-miss.
It didn’t take much to find out that the deposit was from The MacGregor Foundation.
Well, there was only one person I knew with that last name, and in the few days I had known him, he had given the foundation twenty thousand dollars.
That was a whole lot of money that I could do a lot of good with, but I felt there was a mistake.
This solidified the need to actually talk to Angus the next time he stopped by.
I really hoped the money was for the Sanctuary, though.
There were so many things I had wanted to fix but hadn’t been able to.
We needed a new watering system for the hoofed animals.
Walter and one of the ostriches that had moved on had gotten into a curfuffle and pulled all the hoses out.
It had been repaired one too many times, and I needed to get a new pump.
I also wanted to expand our nursery services so I could keep larger animals like bear cubs away from orphans like North and South, and still have them safe.
Currently, the cubs were in a stall in the barn, but I would prefer to have them in a more sanitary, confined space where they could be bottle-fed.
Of course, the money would go to food and upkeep as well, but I got great deals from vendors and had some grants that helped with those needs. Maintenance and upkeep of the facility, though, was a money pit.
As I climbed into bed, I was already nervous about talking to Angus.
His presence had me thinking about him in dangerous ways.
Now I would have to interact directly with him, face-to-face, while I soaked in all his…
manliness. Worse, I got incredibly tongue-tied around cute men, which meant I was screwed.
The next afternoon, he walked in with the always-present bag. Unable to stop myself, I watched him walk toward Bethany’s enclosure. “Hello, sweet girl, how are you?”
I walked up behind him. “We like her sign.”
The poor man must have jumped two feet in the air, and the squeal he made was adorable. The sound had gone straight to my cock. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He picked up the bag he had dropped and looked at me.
Barnaby sat down next to us, his eyes on the bag.
He probably hoped it was something for him.
“I’m glad you like it.” We looked at each other for a moment too long.
“I. Well. I just think everyone needs a name. And people should know it so they can use it. They are here to live, and I thought—I hope you. I should have asked. I always do that. Assume. I shouldn’t, but I do. ”
I stepped toward him, then stopped. What was I going to do, hug him?
How can someone who looks like that seem so insecure?
He had to have men constantly falling all over him.
Though something about the way he looked at me led me to believe he liked what he saw as well.
I wasn’t a bad-looking man, and in my flannel shirt, you couldn’t see the real damage. Angus didn’t know how broken I was.
“No. It’s fine. The name tags are very nice, and I agree names are important.”
We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, then he reached into his bag.
“I made some treats for the raccoons and Atlas. There are potatoes, berries, honey, and some different seeds. Everything is natural, nothing that would be bad for them. I looked it up online and made sure they wouldn’t get sick.
This was a bad idea. I’ll just take them back. You probably have treats for them.”
He started to pull the container back, but I grabbed it. He looked up at me, then let them go. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you. I am sure they will enjoy them. All natural, you said?”
“Yes. Healthy as can be, though no protein, so they are just treats.”
I opened the lid, and inside were small squares, perfect for giving as individual treats.
If they were as good as the cookies he gave me, the animals were going to be delighted.
Barnaby looked up at me, obviously expecting one.
“Subtle.” I broke a piece and let him take it.
He chomped it down, and it was obvious that he enjoyed it.
Angus gave me a sweet smile. He seemed pleased that Barnaby liked it. Adorable.
He reached into the bag again. “I made you these, too.”
“Oh? More cookies?”
He smiled. “No. I could make you cookies instead. I won’t have them until tomorrow.
They are cinnamon rolls, and the icing is on the side, so you can add it when they’re hot.
You probably don’t like cinnamon rolls. I’ll just take these back and make double cookies and come tomorrow, two days—well, three days in a row would be okay, right? ”
I was noticing a pattern with Angus: when he got nervous, he rambled a lot.
Before he could put the container back in the bag, I grabbed his wrist. Tingles ran through my hand and up my arm at the contact.
I tried to ignore the physical response, but I looked at him.
I knew everything was written on my face. “I like cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh. Great.” Then he handed me the container. “I made these for you.”
“Thank you. I am sure I will enjoy them.”
“There is a little orange in the frosting. You liked the cookies?”
I smiled. “I really liked the cookies.” The look he gave me made me chuckle a little, and I felt that tightness in my chest again.
Kryptonite. Kryptonite. Kryptonite.