Page 81 of Stick Around,
“Easy, girl.” I straightened and approached Debra, keeping my voice low and steady. “You’ve had quite the scare tonight, haven’t you?”
The donkey’s ears twitched, but she didn’t bolt as I reached out to stroke her neck. Under my fingers, her muscles quivered with leftover adrenaline.
“Is she okay?” Quinn whispered, not taking her eyes off Pancake.
I knelt back down beside her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her body. “She’s scared, but she doesn’t look injured. Let me help.”
Our shoulders brushed as we both leaned forward, working in tandem in the narrow space. I wiggled the bottom rail, managing to turn the board enough for Quinn to guide Pancake’s trembling body backward. The goat bleated indignantly the entire time, acting like we were the ones who had gotten her into this mess.
“There we go.” I released the rail once Pancake was free. “One baby goat rescue, complete.”
Quinn scooped Pancake into her arms, cradling her like an infant. The tiny goat immediately settled, nuzzling into her shoulder with all the drama of someone who had survived a near-death experience. The sight of them together under the moonlight made something twist in my chest.
It felt strangely intimate, this moment out in a field with a rescued goat and an anxious donkey. Not the romantic moment I had pictured earlier on the tailgate when she had told us she wanted to stay, but somehow perfect in its messy, chaotic way.
“You’re pretty good at this, you know.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She looked up at me, her eyes shining. “At what? Chasing donkeys or rescuing goats?”
“All of it.” My fingers lingered on her cheek. “You fit here. With the animals. With us.”
She leaned into my touch, her skin soft beneath my fingertips. Pancake squirmed between us as if annoyed by this unexpected pause in her dramatic rescue story.
For a moment, we stayed like that, the night settling around us like a blanket, crickets providing a soundtrack that seemed oddly appropriate. Part of me wanted to draw her closer, but the goat between us said otherwise as she tried to bite one of my shirt buttons.
“Okay, okay. Let’s get back to the barn. Do you want me to carry her?” I held out my arms in offering, and Quinn handed Pancake over.
Quinn stepped toward Debra, which immediately made me tense. Reid had spent weeks getting Debra to merely tolerate Quinn’s presence, and that was on a good day without fireworks sending everyone into panic mode.
“Quinn, don’t?—”
But Quinn was already extending her hand toward the donkey, moving slowly like Reid had taught her. Debra’s ears flicked forward, then back, then forward again; the universal sign of a donkey figuring out whether to kick or cuddle.
“You were protecting her, weren’t you?” Quinn’s voice was soft, almost reverential. “Everyone thinks you’re so mean, but you knew Pancake was in trouble.”
To my complete shock, Debra lowered her head and bumped it gently against Quinn’s outstretched palm. The same donkey that had nearly taken Quinn’s head off last week was now letting her stroke between her eyes.
“Holy shit.” My jaw dropped.
She glanced over her shoulder at me, her smile triumphant. “See? She needed time to realize I’m one of the good ones.”
Something about those words hit differently, resonating beyond the donkey situation. One of the good ones. Yeah, Quinn definitely was.
Chapter 26
We’ve Got You
Quinn
Istepped into the shower attached to Reid’s bedroom. The muscles in my shoulders relaxed under the pounding spray, and I closed my eyes, letting the water rinse away the stressful evening.
Our date had ended with such promise with me sharing my feelings, their acceptance, and the possibility of staying. And then came the chaos: panicked horses, a worried donkey, a stuck goat. My heart had nearly stopped when I’d found Pancake wedged under the fence.
The bathroom door opened, and Reid walked in. He stood there for a moment, bare-chested and barefoot, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Without speaking, he reached into the shower, letting his fingertips dance under the spray to test the temperature.
I couldn’t blame him; I did take scorching hot showers.
Smiling at the memory of Kellan yelping the last time he got in without checking the temperature, I adjusted the water a little.
