Page 91 of Tough Love

She plucks my buttons open as I walk backward to the shower. By the time we reach the bathroom, I’m naked, and she is still fully clothed. I cluck my tongue and she holds her arms above her head. I make quick work of her shirt, undershirt, and jeans and we slip into the steaming water.

Addy sighs as the water washes away a week’s worth of dirt, sweat, and grime. I take up the soap and lather it over her body. She tilts her neck to the side and moans when my hands rub over her hips. They must be sore. Dammit.

Next, I squirt shampoo into my hand and massage it over her head. The moan that she makes sends my cock rock hard. But we are both far too exhausted to bother with anything else right now. I tug the shower hose down and rinse out the shampoo, repeating the process with the conditioner. The fragrant apple scent that reminds me of her is the one I chose when I stocked the bathroom before Ma’s party.

When she is all washed and her hair is clean and hanging in tangled curls around her shoulders, she spins and takes the soap from the holder. Her hands glide over my tired muscles. My chest, arms, abs, legs, and then she moves and does my back. Her fingers crawl through my hair a moment later, lathering it with the apple shampoo. This time I groan. She giggles behind me, but it disappears into another long yawn.

Once she’s clean, dried, and comfy in one of my light blue t-shirts, I sweep Addy up and carry her to the bed. She doesn’t protest, only rests her head against my shoulder, eyes closed. I’m pretty sure she is asleep before I even make it to the bedroom. I lay her down and pull the blankets over us. I have barely wrapped an arm around her soft body before sleep drags me under like a raging torrent.

I roll over as my phone vibrates by the bed.

Dawn’s light splinters the dark outside.

It’s Ma.

I slide to answer.

Huddy, the mares. It’s started.

Chapter Twenty-Six

ADDY

Two petite hooves poke through toward us from the pliable opening of the mare on the ground. Foal number nine is moments away. Hudson is anxious. Like a doting first-time dad. It’s the sweetest thing.

I chuckle as he pulls off his hat and runs a hand through his hair for the twelfth time in the last ten minutes. It’s adorable, the way he worries for his mares. So far, so good—nine foals, and three to go. The hard ones, apparently.

“You always like this for the births?” I ask.

He stops dead and shakes his hands before shoving them into his back pockets. I smile and he bends down, lips brushing my ear. “Thank you for being here, Addy.”

“It’s my job, Huddy. But I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Birthing a baby is hard on most mammals, but with horses and cows, the chance of prolapse and a breech birth is high. So, I take my time and monitor for any sign of distress or trouble.

But I’m distracted. My conversation with Harry has been twisting around in my mind since we left the clinic. Now, for the first time since I made my grand veterinary career plan all those years ago, I am weighing up the possibility of changing course.And twelve foaling mares is a handful for two vets, let alone solo, all going well. I am going to need help. I pull out my phone.

A missed call from Adam.

God, that is the last thing I need right now. I had five text messages and two missed calls when I got home from the roundup. All asking if I’m alright, and can he visit. I don’t even want to consider that possibility.

But if I’m being honest, his skill and expertise wouldn’t be unwelcome right now. I am wholly in over my head with a dozen foaling mares all in labor at once. And the man is a brilliant vet and has a knack with horses that most don’t. The one and only thing he has in common with Hudson.

I tap out a message to Justin, asking for his help. He replies straight away.

Off duty doing paperwork, but I will send someone soon.

Great. Just great. He couldn’t care less, that guy.

I dump my phone onto my bag and push to my feet. With a minute between contractions, I check the other mares, one by one. All twelve of them in the barn. It’s better than being out in the cold and haze of snow that has started falling.

The bag vibrates. No, my phone is ringing.

Justin.

I swipe it up from the bag on my way past to check Vanity, two stalls down.

“Justin, I really need a hand here.”

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