Chapter 3 #2
Did he really kiss me on the forehead, or did I just imagine that part? And what does it mean if he did? Don’t go there, Ev.
“You found Birdie!” Macy exclaims, approaching the alpaca cautiously. She reaches out her hand, and Birdie tilts her head. Her unicorn hat slides to one side, the horn sticking out sideways. It makes her look even more ridiculously cute.
“She came home,” Wyatt explains.
“Home?” I repeat.
“Until a few weeks ago, she lived in your backyard,” Ryder explains as though it’s common knowledge. “In the shed.”
“Wait. Was anyone going to tell me the shed in my backyard was actually an alpaca hut?” I ask the group. “Because I don’t remember anyone mentioning that detail.”
“We were taking bets on how long it would take you to notice there was a shed,” Wyatt chimes in.
Macy just shrugs. “It’s true.”
I want to be offended, but the feeling doesn’t last. If Birdie hadn’t shown up, it might’ve been days—maybe even weeks—before I noticed I had a backyard at all.
“Can you keep her here for now, Paps?” Wyatt asks. “I want to look into a few things before she goes anywhere.”
“You think Birdie’s in some sort of trouble?” Ryder asks, unthreading his hand from Macy’s and putting his arm around the small of her back instead. The small but intimate gesture makes something deep inside me ache.
When I left behind my life in Oklahoma, the last thing I cared about was love or dating or relationships. After the reality check that completely tossed my world upside down, letting someone get close to me felt incredibly…reckless.
Even now, love feels like some faraway dream for anyone else but me. It’s safer for everyone involved if I stay closed off until I figure out what’s wrong with me. Maybe I never will. Maybe Stormy will become the self-appointed leader of my future cat clowder.
“Something’s off about all this,” Wyatt says, that protective tone catching me off guard once more. Heat tangles in my belly. The overwhelming urge to tackle the man in front of everyone assaults me.
Shit, shit, shit.
Being around him this makes me feel a little insane, probably amplified by my calling him sexy. Time to get away from the good sheriff before I do something stupid I can’t take back.
“Hey,” I say to Macy. “What’s this I heard about fresh baked cinnamon rolls?”
As curious as I am to find out what’s going on with Birdie, I feel it is imperative to put some distance between me and one Wyatt Knight. Since the alpaca is staying on Stone Ranch for the time being, I can get my updates on her via my bestie later.
“Gina’s been baking up a storm to thank everyone who’s pledged future donations once our tax-exempt status is approved,” Macy says, looping her arm through mine and leading me away from the men and Birdie.
“I promise I’ll take you to the main house soon, but first, I need to stop by and check on Molly and her colt. ”
“How is the little guy?” I ask as she leads us to the stable.
“Cute as can be, but onery as hell,” Macy says with a laugh. “Which is one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you.”
“Just because I have an inner wild child doesn’t mean I can speak baby horse. If you’re expecting me to help the little guy see reason, I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong person. I’m not the wild horse whisperer. You think Gertie’s a problem now—”
“No,” Macy says, laughing louder. “I don’t expect a miracle like that.”
“Oh good.”
“If anyone’s a horse whisperer, it’s Ryder’s brother Weston. But that’s not what I’m asking.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“I want you to photograph Tornado.”
My entire body stiffens, my pulse skyrockets to a thousand, and I nearly stumble over my own two feet. Macy grips me tight against her, her looped arm the only thing keeping me upright.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say brushing my leggings as though I’d fallen in the dirt, looking anywhere but at my concerned friend.
Though Macy’s been back in town more than a month now, we’ve yet to talk about Oklahoma. Panic rushes me at the memory of my Nikon case resting near the coffee table the morning after Wyatt carried me into my apartment. Printed photos from that awful storm’s aftermath were scattered beside it.
He knows something’s up.
It’s no wonder I’ve been hyper fixated on him taking care of me and what it might or might not have meant.
It’s easier to navigate a possible crush on one of my closest friends than face the past I sped away from.
As long as it stays a thousand miles away where I left it, I’m safe. But if Wyatt’s piecing things together…
“You sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”
“Just lost my balance. Must’ve tripped over a rock or something.”
“Maybe we should get some coffee in you first,” Macy says, chuckling. “You’ll need your wits about you around Tornado.”
“Yes.” I agree, pivoting toward the main house. After a minute of silence, I say, “I didn’t know you named the little guy Tornado.”
“When you see him, you’ll understand,” Macy says, no trace of the earlier concern in her tone. My stiff shoulders drop, but before my nervous system can fully relax, Macy adds, “I was hoping you could take some pictures of all the animals, actually. For the website we’re building.”
“I don’t think I’ll have time—”
“I’ll help you unpack,” Macy insists, her way of calling bullshit on my excuse. “We need the website up and running to help us get approved as a nonprofit.”
I could tell my bestie the real reason I don’t want to take pictures, but that would require a level of vulnerability I refuse to access. It’s for a good cause, you idiot. Just say yes.
“How about tomorrow night?” I suggest, remembering that Wyatt’s coming over to assemble furniture then. It’d probably be best to have a buffer so I don’t do something completely stupid around the man, like throw myself at him. Win-win. “I’m putting your brother to work too.”
“Perfect. I’ll bring pizza.”