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"You've gotta be kidding me," Brock gasped as I reached out and petted the goat who approached me, scratching him behind the ears. He pushed his head into my hand as the others fought to get my attention.
"I think they approve," someone called out. I looked up to see a man in overalls and a big smile on his face come forward. I knew he was Brock's dad from the same warm brown eyes and crooked smile. "You must be Macy. We've heard a lot about you. Want to help me feed the goats?"
"Heck yeah, I do!" I cheered, throwing my hair into a messy bun and heading for the gate. He had a bucket in one hand and was pulling at the gate with his other.
"Slide those mud boots on. Brock, shake them out first," he said. Brock crouched down in the grass and shook out the boots, a mix of hay and dust falling out. Once he deemed them safe he helped me step out of my flats and into the large galoshes. The sweet way he pulled my shoes off and slid the boots on, caressing my calves as he did was enough to make me fall for him all over again. My stomach fluttered and my cheeks burned as he looked up at me like I hung the moon.
"There, you're all set," he said softly as he stood, giving me a kiss on the forehead before stepping back and letting me go in. I couldn't even look at his dad after that sweet display.
At least the goats were a good distraction.
They were already biting and tugging at the bucket, demanding the food he had inside.
"Get back!" Brock's dad yelled as he held it up higher. "They are more impatient than that one when he's hungry." He hooked a thumb at Brock and chuckled lightly.
"They're always hungry," I agreed as I watched him hop away from the goat herd who no longer cared about the newcomer in their midst.
"Here, stick your hand in and grab some, hold it out in your palm like this," he said, demonstrating for me. The goats gobbled it up, the ones further back bleating and demanding he do it again. I moved closer and stuck my hand in, grabbing the grain out and offering it up. They lapped it up and I laughed as their slimy tongues danced across my palm. It was disgusting, yet hilarious, and I loved them already.
"We should have brought Roscoe," I called back to the guys. He would have loved this place. I turned to Brock's dad to explain. "Roscoe is my pug."
"Oh, I love those little guys. You should bring him next time, he'll be spoiled. We're suckers for a cute dog."
"Apparently, I'm a sucker for cute goats," I countered as I offered up yet another handful. I'd have to scrub my hands before dinner but it was worth it.
"Who knew our girl was a country girl at heart?" Tate called out.
I was so focused on the goats I forgot all about my worries for a moment.
"Be good or I'll send you guys to muck the pens," Brock's dad called back, laughing as he upended the rest of the bucket in the feeding trough. "We better get inside. She'll have my hide for putting you to work."
"I'll be back to love you babies later," I promised the goats before heading back for the gate. Brock held out an arm to keep me balanced as I swapped back to my regular flats.
"Come on, Mom's great. You'll love her," Brock said. “Tate grabbed your treats."
"Oh, thank you," I said to Tate. He gave me a grin and held up the platter of goodies. Thanks to me ranting to my mom, she'd helped me whip up a tray of goodies to win them over.
The guys led me up the front stairs and inside the house. They didn't bother knocking, just heading right in. The house was homey. Everything was clean and tidy, but also the cozy side of cluttered.
An array of pictures hung on a gallery wall, some of Brock, a few of the guys, and the rest of random family members.
She had knick-knacks lining the TV stand and a bookshelf, adding some charm to the stacks of books there. Between all the throw pillows and cute little decorations, I could feel the love they put into their home.
"Is that my boys?"
Brock's mom's voice filtered in from the kitchen and there was a clatter before she was running down the small hall into the living room. Her smile was as big as her hair and she nearly tackled her son. They each got a hug before she spotted me, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands.
"You're beautiful! I'm Darlene, I'm so excited to meet you!" she gushed before crushing me in a hug as well. "They're good boys, they’ll treat you right," she tacked on the last part and my jaw dropped.
"Wait, what?" Brock asked. "You know we're all with her?"
Darlene snorted. "Yes, just like I knew you and Tate were for years before this, even if you never told your mom. I just figured you were gay but this works, too." She gave him a mock glare that ended in another round of laughter.
He let out a startled laugh and Tate let out a breath, but she ignored them both and hooked her arm through mine.
"Come sit down and let me get to know you," she urged, leading me into the kitchen and forcing me to sit on a stool at the kitchen island. "Any allergies? I forgot to ask."
"Nope," I said quickly. "I'm not a picky eater."
