Page 4 of Four Bears Construction Bonus Scenes
“Aren’t they cute?” he asks, grabbing the nearest one and holding it up.
“They’re wearing pajamas.” It speaks volumes about the man I chose to marry that I’m only mildly surprised that there are three tiny goats in my living room wearing pajamas.
“They’re babies, I didn’t want them to get cold,” Stone reasons.
“It’s August, you’re going to give them heat stroke.” One of them bounces over to me. Yes,bounces. And okay, fuck, yes, it’s pretty god damn cute. I bend down and pat its head uncertainly, figuring when they’re this small they’re basically like puppies, right?
“Yeah, but the air conditioning is on in here,” he points out.
“We cannot have goats living in our house.” I learned early on in our relationship to pick my battles andno goats living in the houseis absolutely a hill I’m prepared to die on.
“Obviously they won’t live in the house,” he says, rolling his eyes as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s what the barn is for.”
“The barn,” I repeat, blowing out a relieved breath. I can live with a few goats in the barn.
“I wanted you to meet them before I took them over to get settled in. You should come see it, I made sure they had all the amenities they need, it’s climate controlled and I did a lot of research about environmental enrichment like stuff for them to climb on,” he goes on, his eyes full of excitement as he describes exactly what he’s done with what is apparently luxury goat living. He kisses the goat he’s holding on top of the head and then sets it down so it can play with its friends.
My heart swells and any irritation I had about the situation vanishes. I can’t be mad about anything that’s making him this happy. But I swear to god if one of these damn things tries to eat my underwear, we’re going to have a problem.
“Let me get some coffee and then I’ll come see the barn,” I concede with a sigh, and Stone’s smile widens.
“I already brewed it for you.”
“Thank you.” I cross the room and lean down, grabbing his hair and giving him a rough kiss to release the last tendrils of my frustration with him. The curve of his smile against my lips lets me know he doesn’t mind at all. I nip at his mouth before we part, and he moans.
“You know, Itotallyunderstand if you’re mad at me,” he purrs shamelessly.
“You don’t have to annoy me in order to seduce me.”
“But it’s so much fun when you’re taking your anger out on my ass,” he says.
I chuckle and offer a hand to help him up. Once I have coffee in hand, I help him herd his goats out the door and towards the barn.
“Do I even want to know what you’ve named them?” I ask cautiously.
“Of course, you do,” he teases with a grin. “That one is Dare Junior, the one in the middle is Underpants, and the third one is Fred.”
I sigh. “Fred?”
“He looks like a Fred,” Stone reasons with a shrug.
We reach the barn and he pulls the doors open. He clearly got a lot done in the past week since I took a look inside. There are the usual things you’d expect like bedding on the floor and full food and water troughs, but there’s also a number of wooden platforms in different heights, as well as a ramp, and some sort of giant round brush thing on the wall.”
“They use that to rub up against,” he explains. “It was all on a goat blog I read, I’ll show you.”
The goats clearly appreciate his efforts, bounding around the room. One of them headbutts a platform and we both chuckle. I throw an arm over Stone’s shoulders and press a kiss to the side of his head.
I can’t say he doesn’t make my life interesting. And no matter what crazy shit he comes up with from day to day, there’s no one in the world I’d rather be married to.
Stone and Dare’s Wedding
ANOTHERNailedBonusScene
STONE
A sloppy tongue all over my face is usually my preferred way to wake up in the morning. Except, the rancid smell of kibble and grass make it abundantly clear before my eyes are even open that either Dare needs to start brushing his teeth before he tries to get frisky with me or that this particular tongue belongs to my much furrier bro.
“Rudes, Brohammed Ali, my dude, consider a breath mint,” I advise, laughing as I try to wrestle the pooch off of me. Of course, that only gets Nards excited enough to hop up on the bed and join in on the fun. “Mercy,” I cackle, giving up trying to fight them off and giving in to the slobbery assault.
