Plopping down next to me, Ty pulls me into him. I don’t resist, practically crashing into his chest. “Are you okay?”
I nod against his chest. “Thank you for not letting me run away with my goats like a crazy person. I was so stressed out.”
“It’s what I’m here for.” His lazy smile is back, as if assuring me our lives will be smooth from here on out.
“That was emotionally exhausting. I didn’t expect her to speak to you like that—or you to her. You were amazing. She was terrifying.”
“Ah, she was easy. She didn’t even throw anything.”
“Yet.”
He laughs as he hooks a finger under my chin. I grin as his eyes soften in the way that pulls me to him, and I lean until our lips press together. Despite the stress of the day, the kiss is light and playful, and I can feel him smile. When we pull back, he locks eyes with me. “I didn’t mean to take over. Are you sure you’re okay staying here?”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Mom and I are good at faking nice to each other, and you said if she’s rude to me, you’ll take care of her. I guess I will just call you if anything happens.”
“You know,” he says, looking down at me, his eyes dancing, “you’re welcome to stay with me at the Four Seasons. I’m here for a few more days. I can sleep on the floor.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Absolutely not. I don’t like the idea of leaving my goats because they’re so naughty. I need to be here.” I crash back onto my bed, and he stretches out beside me, his arm wrapping behind my shoulders like it’s always belonged there.
“So,” I say with a sigh, “what do you want to do now?”
“This.” He smiles down at me as he wraps his other arm around me, and I snuggle closer. Outside, the goats are probablyeating chunks of the porch for lunch, but I don’t care because I’m wrapped up in the moment.
I smile from the inside out. I stood up to my mom. Ty and I are together. And I’m finally making my own decisions. Good or bad doesn’t matter—only that they’re mine. I glance up at Ty, the best decision I’ve ever made.
“Yeah, let’s do this.”
thirty-seven
Tyson
A week later
TheU-Haulispackedtighter than I thought possible, especially for someone who has never had her own place. Man, Lottie has stuff; boxes in every size and shape, labeled in her loopy handwriting, are stacked neatly in every inch of the trailer.
Ham hauls the last box up the ramp while I wrestle with a bag of feed that apparently weighs a lot more than I thought. All three goats circle the trailer like they’re trying to solve the mystery of what’s going on. Once Crunch realizes I’m carrying abag of his food, he runs straight for me. I extend my leg, putting a foot between us. “Don’t even think about it.”
My stern warning doesn’t deter him, and he swerves around my foot, and butts his head into the sack like he’s trying to break it open with his sharp horns. “Stop it,” I yell.
Lottie giggles. “You have to speak their language.” Before I can ask what that means, she drops to her knees in the dirt and cups her hands around Crunch’s tiny face. Then she proceeds to do the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever seen her do.
She bleats.
And not just a little one.
But she’s fully committed and in perfect pitch. It’s absolute insanity, and she’s clearly lost her mind. Somehow it works. Crunch turns to her, seeming to forget about the bag of food long enough for me to scurry up the ramp and place it out of reach. It’s like she’s flipped a switch, and they trot toward her, their tails flicking.
I lose it. This woman is kneeling in the dirt, making goat noises without a shred of self-consciousness, and I’ve never loved anyone more in my life.
The thought hits me so hard I have to act on it.
I grab her wrist and tug her to me before I can overthink it. She stumbles into my chest and gapes at me with surprised eyes. “What—” she starts.
“I love whatever is wrong with you.”
“Wow,” she murmurs. Her smile turns slow and dangerous. “Did you just seriously say the L word?”
Jolting my head back, I realize I did. I mean, I didn’t mean to blurt it out. It slipped into that sentence, but I don’t regret it. I lower my face to level my gaze with hers, pulling deep eye contact. “I guess I did, and I do. I love you.”
