Ignoring his words I wonder, “Why did Davey go on a suicide mission? We weren’t close to catching him mere hours ago.”
Marvin gently brushes his fingers along my temple. “When your father called you, Dean called me. He told me one of the prospects talked to the press. Davey knew he was exposed. His name along with a picture of his face was shown on TV right before you interrupted their livestream.”
“I hope he kicked the prospect out of the club,” I grumble.
“Sure as fuck did,” Dean rumbles and squats down next to me.
I blink a few times. “Where did you come from? Ouch, stop touching my breasts.”
Swatting his hand away, Dean chuckles and says, “Her Kevlar vest took the bullet, gonna hurt like a bitch.”
“Dean’s a paramedic,” Marvin grits. “It’s the only reason why he’s close to your boobs.”
Marvin hauls me into his arms and gets to his feet. “Ambulance out front?”
“Will be in a minute or two,” Dean affirms.
“Wrap up the case, I’m going to take care of my old lady.”
Dean pats Marvin on the back. “You got it, brother.”
I sink into the warmth of my old man’s embrace and close my eyes. It’s been a long day and I could really use a nap right about now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Three weeks later
– MARVIN –
“Are you ready for your present?” I ask when I’m about to open the trailer.
Kathleen rubs her hands, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Get it over with already, I need to see what had you up at the crack of dawn. You’ve been moving your stuff into the ranch for the past week and I really thought all your stuff was already here. Hell, even your horse, Babe, is in the stables.”
“I own more than one horse,” I mutter, mainly to myself.
She falls silent as soon as the trailer opens. I get inside to guide out the white Quarter horse that’s a carbon copy of Babe.
“Oh my gosh, you couldn’t move her because of the foal?” Kathleen gushes when I unload the precious cargo.
Smiling I tell her, “Yeah, I had to wait till Baby had a…baby.”
Kathleen shakes her head. “Really? This one is called Baby? With the other white one you own called Babe, I’m almost afraid to ask what you named the foal.”
“Dude,” I grumble.
Kathleen’s head falls back. “Not a mare I assume.”
“You assumed correct.” I lead both Baby and the foal into the pasture and let them get settled after the long ride home.
Kathleen and I lean on the fence to watch the mare and her foal dart away in the open field.
“They’re gorgeous,” Kathleen gushes.
I keep my eyes pinned on her when I say, “You are, and that’s the horse who was born to be yours, and hopefully the foal will be our kid’s horse once we manage to knock you up.”
Her gaze meets mine. “How can a horse be born to be mine? How old is she? You’ve only known me for a few months, most of that time I hated your guts.”
“My father bred a horse for his old lady, he’s the one who started the tradition. Over time he’s had several. Baby, Honey, Darlin’, Sugar. His favorite horse was Baby and he trained her especially for his old lady, even if he never met her when he did. When he met the woman he knew was going to be his, he let her ride Baby.” Emotions warm my chest and I stare into the distance. “When I was young Baby gave birth to a mare. It was gonna be my horse and I witnessed the birth and told my folks I was gonna call her Babe and train her for my old lady, just like my dad did.”