“Why?”
“Obviously because of your radiantly sweet personality,” I reply sarcastically. “Do your swine grant wishes?”
“No,” she grudgingly admits. “But they are adorable, and plenty of people love having them as pets.”
“What do they do? Retrieve your phone?”
“Very funny.” She folds her arms and juts out her hip. “They do not bring you objects. They do other things.”
“Like?”
“Like . . .”
She clears her throat, her cheeks red from embarrassment as she desperately tries to come up with some sort of fantastic answer. It’s cute, her floundering.
Shut up, Pane.She isnotcute.
“I’ll tell you what they do,” she finally says.
“Please. I’m on the edge of my seat.”
She shoots me a quick look, acknowledging my sarcasm and frowning. “Piggycorns snuggle with you, cuddle, and lick your feet.”
“And this is supposed tosellme on them?”
She throws her hands in the air. “Would you just help me get them across?”
“As you wish.”
She pushes one swine gently, walking away, giving me a great view of her ass, which leaves me spellbound. It must be the pollen in the air that’s causing me not to think straight. I’m supposed to be on my way to securing my family’s company, but here I am, being enchanted by a pig herder.Herdess?Is that a word?
Definitely not a word.
She turns back to me, her braid whipping over her shoulder. “Well? Are you just going to stand there? The sooner we get them across the road, the sooner you can get going.”
“Right. And you move them, how? By pulling on their horn?”
I reach for one, and she slaps my hand away. “No, that’s a terrible idea. Are you trying to hurt them? They can’t lose their horns.”
“But the horns don’t do anything. Are they even real?”
“Of course they’re real.” Sunbeam scoffs while rolling her eyes dramatically. “Oh, I get it. You’re one of those people who don’t believe in the unicorns.”
“Why should I?”
“I have no interest or time to debate the magic of unicorns with a man in a three-piece suit.” Her gaze slides up and down my body. “Besides, I don’t care what you believe. Just help me. Shoo them. Like this.”
She taps one on the haunches, but the creature shows absolutely no interest in doing anything except sniffing the dead dragonflies on the SUV’s grille.
Oh, wait. One of the bugs moved its head. It’s not actually dead, just stuck.
I pull it free and release it into the air as she snaps her fingers. “You know, it would be great if you’d help. It’s the least you can do for almost killing us.”
Oh,nowshe’s asking for it. “For your information,youwere standing in the middle of the road right after I rounded a curve. If Ihadhit you—and I didn’t—it wouldn’t have been my fault because your pigs weren’t movingthenand they’re not movingnow.”
She nudges another one, who holds its ground surprisingly well for a creature no larger than a small dog. “They just need a little encouragement. Listen, whether this gets done today or tomorrow, it’s got to get done.”
My brain misfires as if I’ve heard the sound of a record scratching.
