Page 142 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
But the Jennie didn’t stop. Dust built beneath them as the burro team sliced down the path.
“Sebastian, steer clear. I can’t get Plum to stop,” she said. The one saving grace was that the trail had widened, giving ample distance between herself and the child.
“Make way!” Sebastian yelled. “Runaway donkey coming through!”
Truer words had never been spoken.
Libby tightened her grip as the breeze died down, and the butterfly flitted away into a smattering of golden sunflowers. She tugged the lead, but Plum gave no indication of slowing down.
Think, think, think.
She couldn’t let go of the lead and allow Plum to charge into the crowd, but she sure wasn’t doing much to slow her down. She glanced around. There weren’t any trail offshoots they could take to give the donkey more space to run. There was nowhere to go but down into the bustling square.
Stay on your feet, Libby Lamb.
Her pulse raced, and her breathing grew ragged and uneven. She dropped her gaze, focusing on the rocky trail. There was nothing left to do other than hold on and pray people would see them and get out of their way. But what about the children? There was a kids’ tent right next to a hot dog tent. She parted her lips, prepared to start screaming at the top of her lungs when a rolling British accent that sent a tingle down her spine cut through the crunch of hoof and foot meeting rock and gravel.
Her frazzled nerves calmed a fraction at the sight of Raz sprinting toward her.
“Sebastian,” the man called to the boy, who had dutifully stayed by her side. “Ride ahead. Your friends are at the bottom of the hill. I’ll help Libby with Plum.”
“Righto, Dad,” the boy answered as Raz slipped his hand around Plum’s bridle.
“Wham, bam, where you headed in such a hurry, ma’am? This is some real speed racer action,” he cooed, peppering the air with his infuriatingwham-bamsas he ran alongside them.
“Are you talking to Plum or me?” she got out between sharp breaths.
“The question’s for both my girls. I didn’t think my plums would be so desperate to see me. I’ve only been gone a few minutes,” he teased.
And, hello, this was not the time for making jokes!
“We could use a little help putting on the brakes. A butterfly caught her eye, and I can’t get her to slow down,” she bit out as tents with the words Jumbo Hot Dogs and Kids’ Crafts emblazoned on the sides grew closer by the second.
They could not collide with a hot dog booth.
The last thing she needed was another viral video containing her and cock-shaped items.
“All right, old girl, ease up. Take a breath, inhale the peaceful mountain air, and exhale your butterfly mania,” Raz cooed—actually, cooed. “Focus on your breath, donkey. Balance your chi. Clear your subconscious. The donkey knows,” he purred, rattling off the yoga-infused burro speak. But it wasn’t his words that mattered. It was the pleasing cadence of his voice. It washed over her, steadying her pounding heart.
And she wasn’t the only plum affected by Raz’s voice. The burro whinnied as he whispered sweet donkey nothings in her ear. Plum’s swift gallop slowed to an easy walk as she gave Raz a saucy little bray—the flirt.
“There we go,” Raz said, scratching between the donkey’s ears.
Libby stared at the intact tents and breathed a sigh of relief as the adrenaline in her veins had begun to recede. “You certainly charmed Plum.”
“I guess that makes me a plum charmer,” he tossed back.
The man wasn’t wrong.
“You see,” he began with a cocky glint in his eyes. “I’ve been studying yoga. That’s where I got those fancy words to calm the beast.”
“Is that so?” she replied, playing along.
“The teacher must be rubbing off on me,” he added, flashing a panty-melter of a grin.
She cocked an eyebrow. “She must be some teacher to rub off on a beast like you.”
“She’s the best thing that’s happened to me in ages.” He looked away. “I mean, I’m glad you’re all right. You’re okay, yeah? You didn’t twist your ankle or stub your toe?” he asked, dropping the cheeky cocky act.
