Page 141 of The Goat Next Door

“That one’s worse.”

She’s fully laughing now, leaning into my chest while I shake my head.

“But I can’t not call you a nickname. You need one. Just not hot neighbor. You’re now just…” She waves her hand vaguely toward me, the farm, and the house next door. “Mine.”

My entire brain short-circuits for a solid second. The world seems to tilt on its axis.

Ember smirks, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Oh my God. Look at your face.”

“Country girl,” I warn, trying to regain my composure.

She laughs so hard she has to grab my arm to steady herself, her forehead resting against my bicep. She looks up, her eyes soft but full of that sharp, flirty banter that keeps my heart hammering against my ribs.

“You’re a dork, Brooks. A big, beautiful dork. But I suppose your posture has improved since you got off that bench.”

“The bench was terrible for my back,” I murmur, my hand coming up to rest on the small of her back, pulling her just an inch closer. “But the view was excellent.”

Gertrude lets out a loud, rattling sound right into Sophie’s face, her yellow eyes fixed entirely on the tin cup.

“She’s hungry, Ember!” Sophie chirps, her little legs swinging off the crate. “She says she wants the paper too!”

“No paper for the animals, sweetie,” Ember says. She tilts her head up. “Well, Brooks. You’ve been standing there inspecting that fence line for twenty minutes. Is it safe, or are you going to give my farm a bad grade?”

I look down at her, my mouth twitching. “The lower latch is compromised by two inches. If Gertrude decides to push it, the whole garden is gone.”

“Oh, please,” Ember scoffs, her eyes rolling. “You really are a one-track mind, aren’t you? Everything is a problem waiting to happen. I bet you check the expiration date on the baking soda before you make pancakes.”

“I do, the baking soda loses its power after one year. It affects the rise.”

“Well thank you, Officer Brooks,” Ember says solemnly.

“Just doing my duty.”

“To protect innocent civilians from baking soda and goat-related incidents?”

“Exactly.”

“Hey, look!” Sophie shouts, pointing at the far side of the paddock where two smaller brown goats are currently butting heads into a pile of hay. “They’re crashing!”

Ember laughs, a real, breathless sound that echoes through the quiet valley, and she leans into my side, her hand sliding into my back pocket again with a casual, permanent ownership that makes the last five years of my life feel like nothing more than a waiting room.

I have spent my whole life fighting fires, only to fall in love with the one thing that survives after the flames.

An ember.

Epilogue: Ember

“Nothing dramatic happened after that.

They just kept waking up beside each other.”

— Author’s Note

There are currently seventy-two individual bottles of edible body glitter on my kitchen island, and Kevin the goat is systematically trying to ingest the one labeled Midnight Musk.

We’ve tried blocking the doors and setting up perimeter fencing, but frankly, it’s impossible—the goats have decided they are part of the immediate family, and they treat the kitchen like their favorite place to be.

“Kevin, if you eat that, your milk is going to taste like a cheap casino in Reno,” I yell, swatting his nose away from the counter.