She pats it on the rump. “Ryker let you come, hmm? Stay in your own lane during child’s pose, got it?”
“Is this cinema still active?”
“It’s been for sale for probably seven or eight years now.”
“Has it?”
“Yep. I’d come out here all through high school with my friends, but it kinda died out not long after I moved back home.”
Hudson joins us and sets down his bag with a yoga mat in it as well. “Rumor has it Mrs. Camille has been trying to get some investors together to buy it, especially so she can control weekends off when the community theater’s performing.”
“That’s…quite the reason to buy a business.”
“Daph’s biggest regret is that she didn’t buy it before she lost her trust fund.” Bea grins at me. “She would’ve shown old horror flicks every weekend.”
“And had a massive crowd,” Hudson agrees.
The goat participates in the conversation by sticking its nose into Bea’s crotch.
“Cut it out, asshole.” She affectionately pushes him away.
“Does this creature have a name?” I inquire.
“Ryker doesn’t name his goats,” Hudson tells me.
“How does he tell them apart?”
“He numbers them,” Bea replies. “This is number thirteen. See? It’s on his ear tag. And he’s a handful, aren’t you?”
The goat lifts its front hooves onto her stomach and attempts to lick her face.
“Knock it off, Thirteen.” Ryker joins us as well. He grabs the goat by one horn and pushes it back down to all fours.
“It’s not his fault I’m irresistible,” Bea tells her brother while the goat attempts to shove his nose between her legs once again.
Quite understandable.
I, too, should like to have my nose in her pussy.
Both of her brothers peer at me as though they’ve heard my thoughts and now hope that the goat will step on my family jewels during yoga today.
“None of these poses have us on our backs, do they?” I murmur to Bea.
She grins at me, making those dimples pop even more, and shoves the goat away again. “Second thoughts?”
“Certainly not. But I am a fan of self-preservation.”
“Should’ve stayed home then,” Hudson says.
He shakes his black yoga mat out onto the ground. Bea follows his lead and places her soft blue mat next to him.
After pushing the goat aside, of course.
There must be a dozen goats here, most of them smaller than this number thirteen, but only Thirteen seems obsessed with Bea in particular.
“Simon?Simon!I thought that was you.”
Even the goat cringes at the sound of Lucinda Camille’s voice.
