Page 7 of Rescued Love

I’m not even sure how that’s possible.

There’s also a sense of pride growing in me while looking deeper at everything my grandpa built for himself. He always had a big heart and it’s given him something to fill his days with and a reason to go on day after day.

Thinking back to last night, the satisfaction and joy on his face was so damn easy to read. It made me realize my job, what I thought was my purpose, doesn’t make me feel half of what this animal sanctuary makes him feel.

I want to protect this for him and help him for as long as I’m here. He deserves some support and I’m more than capable of giving it to him.

If you had bothered coming around sooner, you would have known about this place.

The thought slams into me as I finish cleaning the last stall in the barn along with a heavy side of guilt and shame. I should have been here. I should have reached out. I should have tried.

I push those feelings away because ‘should have’ never changed anything and only make you heartsick. I can’t change the past, but I can do something about what I do going forward.

Making different choices and putting forth an effort is something I can do. And I will.

Other than my parents, Grandpa is the only family I have left. I don’t have siblings, and my parents didn’t either. My mom’s parents, who I barely remember now, died when I was young, and Grandma is gone too. I make a silent promise to myself to make time, to make an effort.

I should have done it a long time ago.

With a shake of my head, I look around the stall again, a feeling of satisfaction washing over me. This is the largest stall and it’s taken me the longest, but I don’t mind. Grandpa told me this is the pen the two alpacas share.

I shake my head and mutter, “Fucking alpacas. I swear Salt is going to charge me the moment she gets the chance. Or spit at me. Alpacas spit, right?”

Fuck, I hope I don’t get hit with an alpaca loogie. I’m kind of glad Salt and Pepper, the two alpacas are out of the barn. I swear Salt is plotting against me even though I didn’t do anything to the animal. I guess time will tell on that one, but I’ll be keeping my distance when I can.

As I’m putting everything away and spreading the last of the hay in the alpaca’s pen, while trying to stretch my back out a little since it aches with every movement, I hear a vehicleapproaching. Grandpa said he would be a few hours when he left not that long ago, which makes me wonder who has shown up. I’m sure as hell not expecting anyone, but that’s not saying much.

Before I left the city, it became glaringly obvious I didn’t really have anyone to inform of my plans or where I was going. I don’t even have plants in my apartment that need to be taken care of. I’m not friendly with my neighbors beyond a nod of acknowledgement if we’re at the mailbox at the same time. I don’t even think I could pick out the people who live on the same floor as me in a line-up.

It was a fucking depressing thought.

Considering I don’t know anyone in Sweetwater Valley, I’m sure no one is here to see me. So, who could be here?

It better not be someone out here to bother Grandpa.

“I have some dried blueberries for you, Penny,” I hear a woman’s voice call out and even though it’s well hidden, there’s a slight warning along with panic in her tone.

That has me walking faster to see who the hell is talking. Sure, her voice has a sweet rasp in it that has my cock perking up and taking notice, but I ignore it. No need for my neglected dick to get involved in anything.

Talk about asking for trouble.

When I round the corner of the house, the first thing I notice is the woman standing next to the bed of the truck with her eyes fixed on Penny, Grandpa’s best friend who just happens to be a peacock. She reaches into the bed of the truck, which isn’t super easy considering she’s on the shorter side. Her dark brown hairis filled with lighter highlights which catch the sun. She’s slim and dressed for comfort in a simple shirt and jeans.

But, fuck, it looks like those jeans are painted on her body. My cock twitches with the desire to peel the denim over her hips and down her legs. She’s staring at Penny as she tosses a handful of something in his direction.

I realize, way too fucking slowly, that I’m no longer moving. No. Instead, I seem to be mesmerized by the vision in front of me. The miniature pony, Mr. Whiskers, is neighing from the fence of his enclosure, clearly impatient, but I’m not sure if it’s because he knows this woman or not.

Does he expect his own treats? I wouldn’t mind for her to give me a treat. Preferably, her. Underneath me and writhing in pleasure.

I shake my head to try and clear my dirty thoughts. As I do, I realize her truck has a logo on a large magnet and stuck on the side of the driver’s side door. I bristle when I read ‘Loudon County Animal Rescue’.

What the actual fuck?

“Hey,” I shout, my feet becoming unstuck as anger swirls in my gut.

Why the hell is someone from the animal rescue here? What is her goal? If she’s here to take away Grandpa’s animals, she better think fucking again.

I won’t be letting that happen. Not now, not ever.

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