Page 29 of Sometimes You Stay

As soon as Cretia tilted the bottle, Cher began guzzling, the milk disappearing with each sloppy slurp. Cher swayed a little and then snuggled against Cretia’s chest. “Oh.”

“All right there?”

The hesitancy in her eyes had been replaced by wonder as she looked up again. “Are they always so...?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even let me ask my question.”

He adjusted the little four-legged heater under his arm, scratching the soft fur of Sonny’s belly. “However you were going to end that question, the answer is the same. Sweet? Uh-huh. Cuddly? Undoubtedly. Warm? Yes. Adorable? Absolutely.”

Cretia’s smile morphed into a sardonic grin as Cher sucked down the last drops. “I was going to sayhungry.”

“That too.” Finn matched her smile as he bent over to set Sonny down. The kid stumbled like he’d had something stronger than milk to drink, and Finn put a steadying hand on his rear to keep Sonny upright while he gained his footing. “Their mom feeds them throughout the day, but I give them an extra bottle every morning to make sure they’re getting enough. And they haven’t turned it down once in almost a month.”

Cher let go of the bottle with a pop that echoed throughout the barn. The dogs barked in reply, but Cher couldn’t be bothered to respond, her eyelids drooping in a milk-induced haze as her body suddenly jerked.

“Is she okay? Did I do—”

“She just has the hiccups.”

Cretia smiled at her little lap goat, her hands working their way up and down Cher’s back, her fingers slender and clearly calming as the kid folded her legs and settled in more deeply, her body jerking every few seconds.

“I think you’ve made a friend for life,” Finn whispered.

Cretia didn’t look up from where she smoothed the kid’s back, down the pronounced spine and then back up to the rounded side. “I think I changed my mind. Forget having a puppy. I’d like a pet goat.”

Hands on his hips, Finn shook his head. “Until they literally eat everything you own.”

“She would never. She’s such a good girl.”

“Well, tell that to my shoelace she tried to eat last week. And don’t let Joe Jr. hear you talking like that. He’ll take it as a personal affront.”

She giggled, just as he’d hoped she would, the sound flowing out of her like honey.

“If Cher had her way, you’d sit and pet her all day. But I promised you a computer and the internet.” Squatting in front of Cretia, Finn carefully extracted the drowsy animal and deposited her on a fluffy mound of hay. When he stood, he held out his hand, but Cretia was already pushing herself up from the chair, dusting off a fresh layer of brown hair.

After opening the gate for Jenna and rinsing the bottles in the tack room, he slid the barn door back and motioned Cretia through. As she stepped into the sunlight, her hair glowed beneath her own personal halo. He had a sudden urge to run his fingers through the long ebony waves that swung from her ponytail down her back. Just to see if they were softer than Sonny’s coat. It was science, really.

And potentially ridiculously embarrassing. If she caught him. Which she absolutely would, because he had zero suave.

He’d apparently been absent the day the hockey players learned it at school. Or maybe it was part of their skills training. Coaches taught stick handling, protecting the puck, and how to talk to pretty girls without being a dope.

Too bad he’d never been any good on the ice. He could have used a lesson or two.

A few steps from the door, she began to slow, her feet looking heavy, her steps uncertain.

Figuring she wanted him to take the lead, he scooted around her. “The computer’s just inside.”

She nodded but didn’t move any closer to the house, her arms sliding around her middle and her eyes narrowing on the door. Shifting from foot to foot, she glanced at him, the corner of her lip disappearing beneath her front teeth.

“Cretia?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Yeah. Good.” But her gazehad lost its focus, and she sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Reaching for the handle of the screen door, he waved her in with his other hand. “Would you rather...?” He wasn’t sure what he was asking—or what he was supposed to be asking. He just wanted to find the words to take the wariness from her eyes and ease the lines around her mouth.

She shook her head slowly. “It’s fine. Thank you. Thank you for letting me borrow...”

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