Page 24 of A Reckless Memory

I leaned on the railing and watched the horses graze. The ripping of grass and their crunching filled the air. There wasn’t much grass left this time of year, and they were limited in their grazing options while I worked with them. I’d be feeding them alfalfa bales, and I’d have to procure more to get them through the winter. Once I was happy with their training, I could turn them out to the larger pasture until they were sold.

After I fixed the sagging and broken fence line. “What do you think?”

She nibbled her bottom lip, and I had to rip my gaze away, reminding myself for the second time in five minutes that I stayed out of professional respect. Sporting an erection would work against my determination. “I think Dr. Jake thinks I’m a silly girl who likes animals and wants to save the world.”

“You should be used to that attitude from your brothers.”

“Yes.” Her sigh was resigned. “So Shelby From The Block doesn’t like men, but she’s not as cranky tonight as she was this morning when I was out.”

“She’s already gotten better around me, but I wasn’t bustling around like Dr. Jake.”

“That’s a good sign. And Bruno Mars Bar?”

Horse names didn’t surprise me anymore, but some of these made me smile. “Bruno’s a mellow gelding, but he’s lazy. All of them have been handled, and maybe at one point they were all saddle trained, but all five are project horses.”

“Think there was abuse?”

“Negative reinforcement, definitely. Shelby, especially, and she’s got a temper. Bruno’s too complacent to argue, so he was probably seen as a good horse. Take Me Home Tomorrow is the youngest of the bunch, and I was worried he’d have the least training, but his memory is the freshest. The other two mares have a bond that makes me think they might have to be sold as a pair.”

“Watermelon Sugar Low is going to be called Melon for short. Downtown Girl sounds like a hooker pony.”

“You can ride her a long time.”

She snorted, and I laughed, startling myself by how long it’d been since I’d done more than smile for an audience.

“The old owner liked to put a spin on musical shit.” I pointed at each horse. “Shelby, Bruno, Morrow, Melon, and Downy.”

“Agreed.” One of the horses huffed while she looked around. “So. Where’re the kittens?”

I pushed off the post and led her into the barn, eager to see her reaction to the kittens. They were cute buggers. “Since you wanted to stack hay along the back and have a path to move the skid steer in and out, I made a straw nest in this corner and surrounded it by a couple of old tires I found behind the trailer.”

The new food and water dishes I’d bought earlier were sitting on an empty pallet. I squatted by them and peeked behind the tire. A faint mew sounded from the shadows.

“She’s nursing.” I moved out of the way.

Heedless of the way her leggings would pick up the bits of straw and never let them go, she knelt. On her hands and knees, with her apple ass in the air and me an avid onlooker, she leaned to look behind the tire.

“Who’s a good mama?” she cooed.

She was talking to the cat, but my dick thought she was speaking directly to it. Her round butt and that position—I had to blink back memories I had no business reviewing. They’d been tucked away for my spank bank to use when I was alone and could hate myself later.

“Aw, she’s a little tortie. I thought she was a black cat at first, but I see the orange and white flecks. She can’t be very old.”

“Probably less than a year,” I said gruffly, lust pounding at my temples. After my breakup six months ago, I had sworn off women, knowing it wouldn’t last, that I’d be stupid and weak in the future. I always was, but I wasn’t prepared for it now.

Had to be the self-imposed dry spell.

Her ass wiggled as she dug her phone out of her coat pocket and turned the flashlight on. She didn’t shine it directly on them but cast enough light to get details. “Pretty kitties. Oh, you’re so pretty.”

Somehow, I smiled despite the tightness in my body. She stuffed her phone away and crawled back. She stood up, and I didn’t mean to watch her brush herself off, but I tracked every move as if I’d paid four figures for this lap dance.

She straightened and huffed a hunk of hair out of her eyes. I wanted to brush it back, to see a little more of the wild, unrefined girl I knew years ago.

Her gaze flickered when she caught me watching her. “What are you going to call the mama cat?”

“Me? She’s yours.”

“You found her.”

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