Page 139 of From Best Friend to Bride
“Freddieeeeee.” I leant dramatically against the side of the sofa, collapsing onto the cushions.
“Don’t ‘Freddie’ me like that.” He lightly flicked my forehead. “It’s time for her to start adjusting to the outside.”
“Nooo.” I grabbed his leg and hugged it, resting my chin on his knee. I peered up at him, giving him my best doe eyes. “Please don’t take Spice away from me. She’s my emotional support cow.”
“Your emotional support cow? Good grief.”
“Moo,” Spice said, sauntering up. She bumped his shin with her little head and let out another sad ‘moo.’
Fred glanced at her, then looked back at me. Both me and Spice stared at him, and his gaze flitted between us again and again until he shook his head and covered his eyes with his hand.
“Does that bloody cow understand English or something?” he grumbled.
“Pleaseee.”
“Deli…”
I pouted, blinking slowly at him.
“No, don’t look at me like that.”
I leant against his leg a little more.
“Get off the floor.” He turned his head to the side, but I caught him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not giving in to you.”
I pulled myself up onto the sofa and sat next to him, plastering myself against his side. My hands snaked around his arm, and I hugged it tightly. He tried to get away from me byleaning to the side, but I kept myself stuck to him, and we kept moving until we were lying on the sofa with me practically on top of him.
“Delilah,” he said, a warning tinting his tone. “Don’t push it.”
Spice leapt up, putting her front hooves on the sofa, and nudged the side of Fred’s head with her nose. That cute little humming noise came from her again, and her body shook side to side as she tried to scramble up onto the sofa.
“No,” Fred said, looking at her. “No cows on the sofa.”
She mooed.
With one arm, Fred scooped her up next to him and sighed. “Fine. Just this once.”
It would not be ‘just this once.’
I knew it. He knew it. Everyone knew it.
“So, she can be a sofa cow but not a house cow?” I asked as Spice curled up next to him.
“Deli…” He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around me. He shifted slightly so I was lying on top of him, and I moved so my hands were flat against his chest instead of my elbows. “Can’t you get a cat instead?”
“With Granny’s little demon around? Absolutely not,” I replied. “Spice is already house-trained. Plus, she’s practically a cat. Listen: she’s purring.”
He cocked his head to the side, listened, then sagged back. “She’s a cow,” he said weakly.
“A house cow,” I replied brightly, resting my head on his chest. “A house-trained house cow.”
“A cow,” he continued murmuring.
“Are you really going to not let me keep her inside?” I lowered my voice, tilting my head back to look up at him. “She makes me happy, babykins.”
His chest rose and fell with his sigh. “You little shit.”
“Is that a yes?”
