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“I’m glad you could make it, Nova. And I want you to know I’ve really missed you this week. How are you doing?”
Nanny J could definitely be strict and intimidating but even with her primly starched shirt and her tight bun, she was, in her heart of hearts, very fond of Littles and looked after them all the best she could. Nova had been so busy sulking over how hard this was for her, she hadn’t stopped to consider that it must be awfully difficult for Nanny J too. She’d have to think of something nice to do for the woman who had been so kind to her since she’d arrived three months ago.
“I’m okay,” Nova said, trying not to blush furiously, knowing her backside was sore and swollen from that cathartic spanking from Linc earlier. “I’m happy to be here.”
Nanny J narrowed her eyes behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “I’m happy you’re here too, and very glad to hear you’re doing well. Because you do seem more than just okay.”
Oh no. She didn’t need Nanny J asking her questions about why she was doing well, and who might have been instrumental in making her feel better than okay.
“Mm-hmm,” Nova agreed. “Where are the cookies?”
There was a pause and Nova thought she might not escape an interrogation after all, but then Nanny J took her hand and led her over to some extra tables that had been set out and showed her where to pick out her sugar cookies—there were so many shapes!—her icing—so many colors!—and toppings.
Once Nova had made her selections, she made her way over to a table with some of the Littles she recognized from her time in the Littles’ Wing and at other activities and hoped Nanny J didn’t notice how she hissed and cringed when she sat down on the hard plastic chair.
Following an afternoon of cross-country skiing,Linc found himself at a paint and sip event. He hadn’t been too sure if there would be many Littles here but they did tend to like crafts so he figured he’d give it a shot. Besides, the walls of his cabin back on Enclave were pretty bare. Having been mostly a nomad for the past thirteen years meant he didn’t have a whole lot of worldly possessions, and the ones he did have were almost all practical instead of decorative. According to Cricket, one could not decorate entirely with hand tools hung up to be able to locate them more easily.
And it seemed that artistic painting was not one of his many skills, although he was pretty good with the side of a shed or a boat.
“Is it just me or does my barn owl look more like a barn?” he asked the pretty blonde working beside him. Her owl looked way better. Like it was actually an owl.
She added a few more strokes of light brown to her owl’s feathers. “I’m sure you’re being too hard on yourself, it…”
Then she slid a glance at his canvas, did a double take, and cracked up. “You might be right. Maybe don’t quit your day job? Unless your day job is panting barns.”
“I’ve done my fair share of that, actually. But painting actual barns, not pictures of barns. Name’s Lincoln Donall, but everyone calls me Linc. I’d shake your hand but…”
He waved his paint-covered hand in the air.
The woman smiled, and she wasn’t Nova who made his heart beat out of his chest like a cartoon character, but she was cute and seemed to have a decent sense of humor. And he couldn’t get his heart set on Nova because she only spent time with him because there was no good alternative. Although he hoped after today that she could see him as something more than a last resort. Maybe even someone she would choose to hang out with given multiple options.
“Same,” the blonde said, waving back. “And I’m Taylor. Taylor Atwell.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Taylor. I’m gonna see if I can’t get some professional help for this poor owl.”
After Linc flagged down the instructor and she grimaced and told Linc he would probably be best off making it an actual barn, he and Taylor chatted a bit. One nice thing about being at Rawhide is that you didn’t have to figure out a subtle or polite way to ask if someone was kinky. Being here meant the question was more like “what are your kinks” instead of trying to figure out if someone was kinky at all. Turned out she was, in fact, a Little, although tended to skew more Middle. Which wasn’t his favorite but he could work with that.
“So where you from, and what brought you here?” he asked while getting some white on his brush to add some clouds to what was now a farmscape.
“I live in New York,” Taylor replied. “And I guess the same things as anyone else here? I wanted to be somewhere that’s kind of an escape from the real world where I could let the Middle part of me out a bit and find some kindred spirits. I could’ve gone to any of a dozen clubs in the city, but this is way more fun.”
“You like living in New York?”
“Yeah, I love it. It’s wildly expensive and there are so many people, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Plus, I work at a high end art gallery and there are only so many places that’s a viable job. You don’t find too many six-million-dollar paintings for sale in Montana.”
Hmm. “Definitely a city mouse then, huh?”
“Through and through,” Taylor agreed. So did her shoes for that matter. Suede ankle boots with embroidery that definitely weren’t made for being out in rough terrain or bad weather. “Honestly, I thought about not coming this weekend because it’s in the middle of nowhere, but I was assured the buildings were relatively self-contained and I wouldn’t have to deal with too much… nature.”
It was cute the way she wrinkled her nose and made a gagging sound, but wow would Taylor be miserable out on Enclave, even if they fell in love. Which he supposed was a possibility even if she didn’t light the same spark in his belly—and other places—that Nova did. But probably best to nip that particular plant right in the bud and not even try to see if there could be something there.
“Then where I live would basically be your worst nightmare. No bodegas, no takeout options to speak of, no salons, no nothing, really,” he informed her. “Definitely no art galleries, high end or otherwise. Just trees and water and wildlife.”
“That’s absolutely horrifying,” she told him. “I could never. Maybe it makes me spoiled, but I need to be able to have anything I want delivered at a moment’s notice, and I don’t do weather if it can be helped.”
“You’re not spoiled,” he told her, thinking that he might be the one who was spoiled with all the fresh air and space and fresh food. “It’s just a different way to live. I get itchy when I have to go to town for too long. Too many people, too much noise.”
They exchanged stories about the best and worst things about living where they did, and it was a good time. Didn’t make Linc at all envious of anything but the different kinds of food Taylor could have brought to her door though. Damn it would be nice to have a pizza delivered after an especially long day, but not worth what he’d have to trade for sure.
