Page 60 of Cowboy Bull's Promise

Then I dove into the fray like it was just another Tuesday.

“Dolly Mae—no! Not the lamp!”

Or maybe that was Dolly Sue?

Hard to tell with the twins.

Either way, I grabbed her by the horns and started hauling her backward toward the door while avoiding the duck that was now pecking at my foot like it had a vendetta.

“Hey! Stop that! That’s my couch, dammit!” I shouted at the goats currently chewing on the armrest.

Dante’s Bear gave me a look.

A full-body snort and a sarcastic head tilt that clearly said, You invited her to stay the night. This is your fault.

I glared at him.

“Don’t you judge me, you overgrown throw rug.”

And then Rosie—the pint-sized chaos goblin—climbed my goddamn curtains.

She scrambled up like a pro, leaving a shredded path behind her, and I was too stunned to do anything but shout.

“Rosie! Get down from there! That curtain rod won’t hold you—wait, no! Not the?—”

She leapt.

From the curtains.

To the chandelier.

“Oh my fuck! Kian! What the hell is happening?!”

My sweet mate is clinging to the blanket like it's a life raft, wide-eyed and barefoot on my stairs, looking like she just stumbled out of a post-apocalyptic animal sanctuary.

Not too far off, actually.

“Is that a bear?” Arliss asks and swallows loudly, “is that another bear?! What the shit is going on?”

Her voice squeaks halfway through the sentence, and I swear I see her soul leave her body for a second.

She lets out this tiny, distressed whimper, and I can feel her inching toward full-blown panic.

And honestly? Same.

But for a completely different reason.

Oh fuck. I fucked up.

“Don’t worry! It’s all okay!” I shout, tripping over a throw pillow as I valiantly attempt to herd the ducks toward the front door.

One of them hisses at me.

Hisses.

Like it’s possessed.

And for a moment, I wish I was a carnivore.

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