Page 51 of Marry Lies
“Oh my God, Miles. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She sounds terrified, and as I wrap my arms around her, I glance over her shoulder to check for a bear or something else just as terrifying. There’s nothing—only Lucifer.
My pygmy goat.
“Um,” I murmur, not wanting to let her go. Her body is warm, and soft, and she feels fucking amazing against me. “Is something wrong?” I ask slowly.
“I am terrified of goats,” she says, her voice breaking. “Utterly, terribly, insanely afraid of them.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing out loud. “You’re…scared…of…goats?” I ask tentatively.
She huffs indignantly. “Yes, Miles. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but it’s something about their beady, little eyes—”
My laugh interrupts her, and she pushes away from me quickly, anger flooding her expression. Her features pinch together as she shoves my chest.
“It’s not funny!” she yells.
Lucifer is standing behind her, and he bleats loudly.
Perfect timing, little buddy.
Estelle screams and jumps, scurrying away and back through the gate behind me.
“Not today, Satan,” she says before closing the gate.
Lucifer looks at the gate she left through, and I can’t help but grin as I bend down, patting the top of his head.
“Don’t worry, Luc. We’ll work on her, okay? She obviously doesn’t know how cute and innocent you are.”
Lucifer lets out a small bleat, and I walk over to the little house Liam built for him last year. I check his water and food, ensuring he has enough, and then I tell him I’ll be back later to check on him.
As I walk off toward the gate, I hear him hop over to his play area. Because, yes, goats apparently need enriching toys and a stimulating environment. And, since the chances of actually reproducing with someone and creating another human are very, very low, I’ve gone out of my way to make this place as state-of-the-art as possible. Boulders, tree trunks of varying sizes, platforms, tunnels, a seesaw, and a field of overgrown grass…
He’s the most spoiled goat I’ve ever met.
I’m still grinning when I close the gate behind me. Estelle is leaning against the nearby side of the castle, glaring angrily at me.
“You could have warned me,” she accuses.
As much as I want to apologize for laughing, I also can’t help but find her fear of Lucifer fucking adorable.
I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “I promise he won’t chase after you with his beady, little eyes,” I tease. “Though I suppose if you really piss me off, I won’t hesitate to let him loose in our quarters.”
She growls as she charges forward, pushing me roughly. “That’s not funny,” she says indignantly. “You wouldn’t dare,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
And—fuck.
I smile down at her as my hands grab her wrists of their own volition. The sun is now peeking over the horizon, making her skin glow golden. Her blue eyes, normally so dark, look almost icy, and her cheeks are flushed from the foggy, cool morning and probably a little bit from being angry with me.
“I find it disturbing that terrifying me with your goat is what gets you to actually smile at me,” she says dryly.
I huff a laugh. I suppose she’s not wrong, butfuck. Why do I enjoy riling her up so much?
And why do I really want to fucking kiss her right now?
I step away quickly as the thought enters my mind. Sometimes I admire my brother, Chase, for going after Juliet so ruthlessly once she got through to him. She had to push him to get to that place, sure, but once she did, their relationship was explosive and fiery—a maelstrom of angst and years of pent-up longing. I’m sure if he were in my shoes, he’d have her on her knees, begging for more. I swallow as I look away, trying to keep my expression neutral and unaffected.
That’s not me.
