"Is that asheep?" he demanded.
"Well," I glanced at Pumpkin as she downed the milk like it was her last meal, "a lamb. Yeah."
Almost like he was too afraid to do it, Rook let his gaze rake over the rest of the living room. Mini came to greet him as he found the white metal playpen I'd set up by Mini's cage in the dining room. Actually, I'd pushed the dining room table up against the window wall, so it was more like the pet room, now. He took in the puppy pads all over the floor, the giant mixing bowl of water that had already spilled and made a mess, and then the milk powder mess behind me.
Finally, he met my anxious stare, his jaw flexing. Through his teeth, he asked, "Not your fault?"
"It wasn't!" I patted Pumpkin's head. "It's a whole… thing. But don't worry. It's temporary."
"Gemma, that's afarm animal." He finished unbuttoning his coat and came to stand close enough that his towering height could loom over me. "This is not the day to do this to me. I have no patience left. Get that creature out of here."
I covered Pumpkin's ears and scowled up at him. "That's very rude of you. No one likes being called a creature."
"Gemma." Knox swiped his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "What the fuck?"
"Okay, here's what happened. I set up a beach bum with a farm bum, and somehow that wasmy fault," I ranted, watching Rook's face pucker with deepening confusion. "And then hefired me, which no one ever does, and there were no farm rescues open after I found the powdered milk for Pumpkin, so what the hell else was I supposed to do?"
Knox blinked once. "Are you having a stroke?"
"No," I huffed. "I got stuck with a lamb, Rook! What part of that was unclear to you?"
After a beat of silence, he asked, "Pumpkin?"
"Yes, Pumpkin. That's her name."
"That's a stupid name," he said.
"She's just a baby. I couldn't call herlamball the time." I pushed past him and went to her pen where I'd thrown some of my old blankets and a pillow into the enclosure. "It's just temporary. Although, it is kind of a perfect name for her. She's so cute and cuddly, and there are pumpkins everywher—"
"You are not keeping that," Knox threatened with a point. "Gemma, so help me God."
"Oh, relax." I untied the knot on the baby wrap with my left hand while I held the bottle for Pumpkin. She was almost done, and that was how her feeding had gone three hours before. She guzzled her meals so fast, it was a wonder she didn't choke on them. From what I could tell, Pumpkin would need to be fed every three or four hours, but that was assuming she was around eight weeks old. For all I knew, she could be geriatric. Google and ChatGPT had been weirdly unhelpful.
Knox followed me, taking off his jacket with a thunderous expression. "Gemma Daise, we are not keeping a farm animal in my house."
"First of all," I chided, taking the empty bottle from Pumpkin's mouth, "sheep live on ranches. Usually. So, she's more of a ranch… animal. And secondly, it's not like it goes against the house rules." I shot him a sly look over my shoulder. "Technically."
Knox's icy eyes narrowed mutinously. "Is that right?" Before I could stop him, he stalked over to the list on the fridge. I fumbled with the carrier, unwrapping the lamb from my body and gently setting her in her pen. She stumbled on her wobbly legs before making an irritatedbaa-aaand making her way over to the nest of blankets.
I shoved the baby carrier off my body and fast-walked to the fridge, but Rook had already written the new rule in all caps with a red pen, which he'd apparently kept in his pocket. His forearm muscles flexed below his rolled-up, white button-down, and he dotted the rule with a firm period.
32. ABSOLUTELY NO FARM ANIMALS.
I folded my arms and glared. He capped the pen, turned to face me, and lifted his dark blond eyebrows. I glanced at the words on the page, and then to the pen between his long fingers. "Pens in pockets tend to ruin laundry."
He pressed the capped pen between his eyes like he was in pain. "Don't change the subject. Get the sheep—"
"Lamb."
"—out of my house." He opened his eyes and subjected me to the full might of his wrath. The scariest part about angry Knox was how placid he was. Like a winter lake, his composed features hardened and nearly froze through the thin layers of my composure.
I barely managed to keep from shrinking away from him. "What do you want me to do? Leave her at the fire station?"
Pumpkin bleated. Mini whined, lying down on her front paws in front of the baby gate, her pointy ears shifting with interest.The lamb stuck her face between the bars, so tiny she could almost slip out. Mini sniffed her for a moment and then began licking up the milk that had dribbled on the lamb's face from her feeding. I tucked my lips between my teeth, trying valiantly not to smile. It really was absurd. And super cute.
Reluctantly, I peeked at Rook. He was watching the pair with his hands on his trim hips, and a line had pinched between his brows. He slanted a look my way. "How long?"
"Until Monday," I hurried to reassure him. I plucked at the hem of my old T-shirt that I wore over faded sweatpants. "Until the local rescue opens."
