Page 51 of Own the Eights
With those four words, the Emperor of Asshattery disappeared. His green eyes sparkled with pride and relief. And when he looked at her, when he thanked her and patted the goat’s little body, all she could see was his…eight-ness.
Yes, to her trifecta’s disappointment, she’d decided to make this non-word a real word.
She parted her lips to say, say what?You may not be the douche nugget I’d pegged you to bewhen another precious black and white baby goat with a cute black ring around its eye hopped onto her lap.
“Oh!” she gasped as the tiny animal nuzzled up to her.
The yoga instructor handed her a bottle. “Looks like you’re on lunch duty, too.”
She shared a look with Jordan just as Trixie jumped off his lap, and another baby goat took its place.
“How are you doing?” she asked as the yogi handed Jordan another bottle and he went to work feeding baby goat number two like he was Farmer Fred.
He cradled the goat. “I’m good. I don’t know if I’ve ever been better.”
She nodded with the hint of a smile because the truth was, she’d never been better either.
* * *
“Four goats, Georgie! I fed four baby goats!”
Georgie sat back against the smooth leather seat and chuckled as they left the animal sanctuary and the scene of Jordan’s great goat breakthrough. They hadn’t done any yoga. Instead, they fed every goat, including the adult goats, all with the CityBeat producer documenting the event.
After two hours, the tally was in. Jordan had fed four baby goats, three adult goats, and hugged a lamb. A standard day for a six-year-old visiting a petting zoo, but a life-changing experience for a man with a farm animal phobia.
She watched him from the corner of her eye. The word handsome didn’t even do him justice, and when he wasn’t acting like a cocky bastard with that air of asshattery, he was absolutely lovely.
“I need to pull over,” he said, all smiles and frantic energy.
She stared out at miles upon miles of farm country. “Here? In the middle of nowhere?”
“Yeah, I just need to—”
He cut off his sentence, hit the brakes, and pulled the Beamer onto the side of the road with a cloud of dust billowing behind them. He sprang from the car with the enthusiasm of a well-fed baby goat and took off toward a pond next to an abandoned-looking barn.
“Wait!” she called, running after him.
She found him at the edge of the water, staring out as the first drops of a gentle summer rain pebbled the surface.
He raised his hands like a Norse god. “You don’t own me, goats! I’m not afraid of you.”
If he weren’t so earnest, this would be hilarious.
He spun around, and again, for the second time that day, took her hands into his. “This is huge for me.”
She pushed aside the memory of those strong hands gripping her ass. “You should call your mom and let her know. I’m sure she’d be very proud of you.”
His gaze darkened. “She would, but I can’t call her.”
“Why not?”
“She passed away when I was eleven,” he said with the saddest smile that made her want to wrap her arms around him and never let go.
Tears pricked her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jordan. I didn’t mean to…”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. You’re right. She’d be really happy for me.”
Georgie felt a drop on her cheek, but it wasn’t the rain.
