“Of a goat? Please.”
“Good.” She tips her hat like we’re in some kind of showdown, and I swear that stupidly simple move shouldn’t hit the way it does. “Then you can run first.”
I arch a brow. “You’re serious?” But my hands are already moving, flannel shrugged off, muscles tightening against the early morning chill. Her eyes subtly track the movement, but I catch it anyway. I roll my neck and adjust my cargos.
“Deadly,” she says, backing toward the fence. “Come on, Daniels. Let’s see that police agility training in action.
“What am I even supposed to do?”
She jabs her chin toward the paddock. “Grab that bucket, dump it in the troughs, and get your ass back here.” Before I can argue, she lets out a sharp whistle. The gate groans open, and Kevin charges. Straight. For. Me.
“Jesus Christ—”
My boots slip on the packed dirt as I take off, heart hammering, adrenaline kicking in like I’ve been dropped into some farm-themed fever dream. Kevin barrels after me.What kind of goat moves like that?I hurl a scoop of feed into the trough, praying it buys me a second. It doesn’t. The bastard’s locked in. Snorting. Charging again.
“Bit quicker, Daniels!” Olivia yells through laughter, no help whatsoever. I twist to the side, barely dodging Kevin’s horn, my curses loud enough to rattle the gum trees. My chest burns, lungs raw, dust stinging my throat as I sprint back toward the gate. I slam it shut just in time, the latch vibrating under the impact of Kevin’s headbutt.
Olivia is doubled over, laughter spilling out of her so freely, it knocks the breath from me harder than the sprint did. I lean forward, bracing my hands on my knees, dragging in air.
“You happy now?” I grumble, though the grin’s already tugging at my mouth.
Olivia tips her head, eyes still dancing with laughter. “I will be,” she says, voice softer now, “once you admit you had fun.”
And then she’s off. This time it’s her boots skidding in the dirt, feed bucket swinging, hair wild and tangled in the wind. Kevin barrels after her like a heat-seeking missile.
“Piss off, Kevin!” she shouts through fits of laughter. She throws feed into troughs with a precision I can’t comprehend, ducking, dodging, whipping around corners like she’s playing tag with the devil. She’s chaos. Untouchable. Glorious.
And when she dives back through the fence, Kevin hot on her heels, my heart nearly stops. She makes it, just in time, all breathless, cheeks flushed, and hair stuck to her skin. Christ, she’s glowing. Lit up like adrenaline itself kissed her. I can’t stop staring.
“Told you it was fun,” she pants, beaming.
“You’re insane,” I say, still catching my breath.
She shrugs like that’s old news. “Maybe. But you’re smiling, so who’s the real lunatic here?”
The wind suddenly shifts, with more of a bite to it, just as a damp scent rolls in.
Olivia glances skyward, squinting toward the horizon where dark clouds have begun to crawl in. “That’s not good,” she mutters, just as the first low rumble of thunder cracks across the field.
Kevin, this so-calledterror, bolts like a coward toward the shelter. The rest of the herd follows. Olivia throws her head back and laughs, wild and loud, rain starting to pelt around us.
“Yeah, not so tough now, are you, Kev?” she calls, shaking her head.
I should be moving. Helping. Saying something. But all I can do is stand there and watch as the rain clings to her, soaking through her shirt, thin enough now to outline every curve. Hershoulders flex, her stomach tight, the line of her spine visible through the damp cotton.
I look away, then back again, but it’s futile. This time, she catches and grins, eyes gleaming through the rain. “Dance with me.”
“Pardon?”
“Dance with me in the rain, Daniels.”
“Now? Out here?”
“Yes.”
Is she insane?This woman is going to ruin me. “There’s no music,” I offer weakly, already knowing I’m losing.
She pulls a corded earbud from her back pocket like it’s 2005 and hands me one. “I always come prepared.”
