Page 20 of Suddenly Entwined

Berg’s arm presses against mine despite the fact that there’s plenty of space along the fence line. I don’t move a muscle. Louisa is whispering to the big animal in a baby voice while she scratches his chest.

“Surprised he didn’t stay in the forest and live off the land.”

“Oh, he tried that once. Came home with a poison ivy rash on his a…and that is the entire story.” I glance over at Lou, glad I censored myself at the last second.

Berg barks out a laugh. “He very conveniently never told me that one.”

“It is my solemn duty as a pesky little sister to spread embarrassing stories about my brother far and wide.”

Louisa wanders further down the fence line as Murphy roams.

“Do you work tonight?” he asks.

I shake my head. I’m barely on the schedule for next week. Carl brushed me off when I tried to corner him in his office. Worry rushes over me. Why is he asking? Does he want to talk about the rent now?

“Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Nope. No babysitting drunks tonight. I’d rather hang out with an appreciative donkey than drunk people any day. They are the superior type of ass, you know?”

Berg grins, shaking his head at my double entendre. “I’d cheers to that if we had drinks. Actually, I’ll get you one. Hot chocolate? A pop?”

“Oh, um, hot chocolate sounds yummy.”

“Be right back.”

A peal of high-pitched giggles carries across the field, and Berg and I both look up to see a woman arriving down the drive. She’s balancing a huge gift box in her hands, barely able to see where she’s going. It’s easily the biggest gift yet.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Excuse me,” he says, rubbing that smooth-looking neck and heading in the woman’s direction instead of the drinks table.

I nudge Louisa’s shoulder. “Hey, birthday girl, who is that lady?”

She glances at the new arrival and I’m grateful she doesn’t do something obvious like point directly at her.

“Her? That’s Milly’s mom. She wants to make my daddy chicken for a wedding.” Her little shoulders rise in a shrug. “She giggles a lot.”

Oh. Make chicken? Somehow I doubt Milly’s mom is a chef. Berg is holding the bow-covered package while they talk. I can’t see his face, but she’s all smiles, so she must like what she sees. Are they a couple? Maybe they used to be based on Berg’s reaction at her arrival. On cue, another forced laugh drifts our way.

“Yeah, I can hear that.”

Of course, Berg would have a lot of women interested in him. Handsome, kind, good job. I squint at her hand to look for a ring, but can’t see anything from this distance.

“Milly always brags about her horses.”

A girl a bit older than Natalie hops out of her mom’s SUV.

“I see. Well, Milly is coming this way.”

“I’m not sharing my donkey feed.”

I press my lips together, trying not to encourage the sass, but finding it funny all the same.

“Happy Birthday, Louisa,” says Milly when she reaches us.

“Thank you. I’m seven now.”

“I’ll be ten next month.” Her expression is smug. “Is there horse riding at this party?”

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