Andsometimeslove is putting up with someone who’s a total pain in the ass, because you can’t imagine being happy any other way.
“By the way, do you know why Stone’s Instagram is full of pictures of a dog that isn’t his? He dyed a pink streak in the poor things fur yesterday.” I ask.
“Don’t worry, it was a dog safe dye, he checked with a groomer first. It’s his neighbor’s dog, and it’s a long story.”
Baby Goats
ANailedBonusScene
Stone
Sweat drenches my shirt making it cling to my body. I tug my shirt over my head and use the already damp material to wipe some of the sweat off my forehead. My muscles are aching, but it’s the good kind of ache you get after a hard day of work.
I make my way across the lawn towards the main house.Ourmain house. Two years after Dare and I got married we decided to make the dream of a farm full of dogs come true. As I near the house Buttplug the pug comes trotting off the porch to greet me. My sexy, amazing, grumpy husband and I have a deal that we get to alternate naming any dogs we adopt. Needless to say, that vein in his forehead made an appearance when I named Buttplug, and he refuses to call him by it, mostly calling him Pugsly instead, although Ihaveheard him slip a few times and call him by his given name.
I bend down and scratch Buttplug’s head, telling him what a good boy he is. When I stand up, I find Dare on the porch, leaning against the railing with Rudy and Nards at his feet. Wehave a couple more pooches running around somewhere who I’m sure will make it back to the house right around dinner time. And yes, in spite of how time consuming it was, Ididfence in our entire property to keep our pups safe and sound.
I jog up the stairs with Buttplug at my heels, stopping in front of my husband to press a kiss to his lips.
“What’s the barn for?” he asks when we part, his eyes narrowing in a familiar suspicious expression. He’s asked the same question every day since I tore down and started rebuilding the dilapidated building on our property two months ago.
I give him a shit eating grin and then kiss him again just because I can, reveling in the frustrated growl that vibrates against my mouth. Fuck, I never get sick of kissing him, and arguing with him, and waking up next to him, and driving him completely insane. And as much as he might still growl and glare at me, I know he loves me just as much because he never misses an opportunity to tell me so.
“Can’t a barn just be a barn?” I ask innocently.
“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not buying it.
The thing is, if I tell him the truth ahead of time it’ll only give him time to be grumpy about it. Once heseeswhat I have planned, I’m sure he’ll warm up to the idea. And luckily this is the last night we have to have this conversation because I put the finishing touches on things this afternoon, which means tomorrow morning I’m going to sneak out of bed bright and early and bring home my little surprise.
Dare
Stone is up to something. After more than five years together I can see right through that innocent act of his. I’m almost afraid to find out what he has planned for the barn. I went out to peekinside a few days ago when he was at work, and it looked like a regular old barn with no hint of what he might be planning to use it for.
Don’t get me wrong, the thing was about to fall down when he got to work on it, so I’m glad to have a nice looking building instead of the death trap thatwasthere. But I have no doubt the nice new building is going to come with some kind of price.
I wake up to the sound of Rudy scratching at the bedroom door to get out.
“Knock it off, Rudes,” I mumble, rolling over and finding Stone’s spot empty and cold.
Rudy gives a low whine and scratches again before making a snuffling noise that tells me he probably has his nose to the crack at the bottom of the door, trying to smell something outside the room.
Fuck, that’s not a good sign.
I close my eyes and give myself a few more seconds to live in a world where I have no clue what fresh hell Stone has come up with to torture me this morning. I love the man, I truly do. I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone. That doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes consider if it would be worth the life sentence to murder him and be done with it.
Once I’ve gathered my mental strength, I throw back the covers and get out of bed. Nards picks up his head, wagging his tail from his doggy bed in the corner of the room. With five dogs we have a rotation system of who gets to sleep in the bedroom because we discovered early on that having all five of them at once will lead to one of us being relegated to the couch when they inevitably gang up on us and take over the bed.
I throw on a pair of pajama pants because whatever my husband is up to, I’m certain I don’t want to face it naked if I can help it.
I can hear something going on in the living room and for a second, I consider heading in the opposite direction to go to the kitchen and get coffee first. I should not be expected to endure my husband’s antics before coffee.
Rudy and Nards bound straight for the living room, clearly excited by whatever’s going on in there. And then I hear it...the sound of bleating.
“Oh, fuck no,” I grumble, heading straight towards the noise.
I storm into the living room to find Stone sitting in the middle of the floor with three furry little creatures surrounding him, not to mention all five of our dogs piled onto the couch now, huddled together as they observe with concern.
“There are goats in my house,” I mutter.
