Page 171 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“Three, two, one! Go, Ass-in-Nine!” Maud called, ringing the bell over her head.
In a blur of dust and hooves and pounding feet, a sea of runners yelledhup-hup, and they were off.
Twenty-Five
Erasmus
“Let’s do this!”Raz clicked his tongue and signaled for Beefcake to, literally and figuratively, haul ass.
He could hear the cheers, but he’d learned to turn off the external noise and draw his power inward, thanks to practicing Pun-chi yoga. Right off the line, he and Zen Dougie were the front-runners, with Libby not far behind. He could hear her encouraging Plum as one mile became two, then four, then six. Neck and neck, he and Doug rocketed down the trail, neither letting up.
A battle of wills played out between them, with Libby as the ultimate prize.
Good old Dougie might not have a clue about the benchmark experiment, but his interest in Libby was undeniable.
“You might want to pace yourself, this being your first Ass-in-Nine,” Doug bit out between breaths as they passed the marker for mile seven.
There were only two miles to go, but these last two miles were the most harrowing and contained the rockiest terrain and a creek crossing. It was safe to say, barreling through this segment of the Crooked Mine Loop wasn’t for the faint of heart.
Raz smirked. He had plenty of juice left in his tank, and Zen Dougie’s trash talk was the stuff of little old ladies. “Remember who won the last race,” he tossed back.
“I’m just saying, the last two miles are the toughest.”
“Maybe for you, but not for me and Beefcake.”
Beefcake whinnied a triumphant sound. Like their human counterparts, the burros hadn’t let up. Anytime the trail narrowed, the Jacks nipped at each other, grunting and carrying on in their alpha donkey dialogue.
“What’s your donkey’s deal anyway? Why’s he such an ass? Pun intended,” Raz pressed, looking to get under the man’s skin. If he riled up his rival, there was a good chance the man would allow his emotions to drain his energy reserves. It was a trick that worked wonders in the ring.
“Ace likes Plum. That’s all there is to it. Donkeys are territorial. He wants her for himself.”
“Well, she’s Beefcake’s companion. Ace can’t have her,” Raz replied, and unfortunately, he found his emotions taking hold.
“Are you sure about that?” Doug bit out as they navigated a rocky incline. “Plum’s been with him all summer, and she still let Ace nuzzle up against her.”
Raz clicked his tongue, dialing up the pace, moving from rock to rock. “That doesn’t mean she likes him.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’tnotlike him. She could like them both,” Doug replied through tight breaths.
What a bloody bonkers observation.
“No, she’s being cordial to Ace. It’s her nature to be kind.”
Dougie huffed. “Donkeys aren’t cordial.”
“How do you know?” Raz squawked.
“My family runs a donkey rescue. I know,” Doug replied with the maturity of a five-year-old.
Dammit! In his quest to agitate the Zen prat, he’d gotten himself running hot.
And speaking of hot, a cluster of butterflies zoomed past them, riding the warm mountain breeze. He looked over his shoulder, praying that Plum wouldn’t lose her donkey mind over the insects. The butterflies flitted into the grasses, and he resumed pecking away at Doug. “I figured you were too busy teaching yoga to rich old birds in Aspen to worry about shoveling donkey shit.”
Doug bobbed from a large stone to the dirt trail, avoiding another group of butterflies.
The damn things were everywhere.
“Maybe I do spend a lot of time in Aspen,” Doug conceded. “But I still know more than you do when it comes to donkeys and what makes them happy.”
