Page 107 of Whispered Promises

“He’s a bit of a character…” I trail off, unsure what else I can say without bursting into laughter again.

“You should kiss it better,” he says, straightening and giving his backside another rub.

“You…want me to kiss your butt?” I croak, my neck growing hot and undoubtedly red.

“I’d kiss yours better if you asked.” One of his brows rises, and he looks at me expectantly.

Shit, okay. Now my entire face is encased in flames. There’s no logic to it, really. He’s seen every inch of me and spent a lot of time in places no one else has…but apparently him kissing my butt has me all flustered. Explain that one.

I can’t, so I laugh. All squeaky, high, and involuntary.

“So…butt kissing aside.” I cough, needing to change the conversation so my face doesn’t melt off. “Jerry is just a little opinionated; it wasn’t personal.”

“But he’s so…small.” His frustration at being bested by something not even three feet tall is obvious.

“But mighty,” I add, breaking into a smile…again. It feels like it’s become the new normal around them.

Handing him a brush, I pull out a hoof pick.

“They need a brush as they’ve been rolling and have dried mud on them. Just pick one and approach from the side. They’re all used to it, so you’ll be fine.”

I run my hand down Gilly’s front leg and pick it up, working to remove all the mud from her feet. It’s cathartic and my mind relaxes as I carry out a task I’ve done too many times to count.

With Nate turning up to help, all of them have been here now. It’s…not something I’m really able to put words to. But it tugs the conversation I had with Steph the other night to the forefront.

Not the part about me catching feelings. That part we’re still avoiding.

But are they falling? Is that why they’re taking the effort to come here and spend time with me?

I can’t imagine Nate’s enjoying being here; he’s not really someone you can picture with cute, furry animals. Hauling timber, lifting logs…anything that requires bulging muscles and a scowl is more fitting.

Moving on to her next hoof, I chance a glance at him, and my insides melt. Mabel’s head rests over his back, her eyes sleepy and relaxed, as Nate kneels, meticulously brushing every speck of dirt and dust off her front legs. He’s both gentle and attentive.

My view becomes obscured, and a small sting flicks across my face. I end up with a mouthful of thick black hair; a certain chubby pony’s tail.

Turning, I see Jerry staring at me, tail flicking again as if he’s warning me.

Right, the carrots.

“Let me finish Gilly’s feet, then I’ll get you a carrot,” I promise, and he snorts way too loudly for it to be polite.

“What?” Nate straightens, and I notice his arms. His bare ones.

When did he remove his hoodie?

He does have nice arms, though. They’re so warm and strong. So firm from all those muscles everywhere.

“What are you getting me?”

“Oh, nothing. Sorry. I was talking to Jerry. I promised him carrots, then promptly forgot. So he decided to remind me, hence the tail to the face…” I trail off as a small, heart-stopping smile tugs at his mouth. “What?”

“You.”

“Me, what?” My hands fist at my hips as I wait.

“It’s cute.” He shrugs, then goes back to brushing Mabel. Long strokes down her neck, followed by his hand smoothing her coat.

“Cute? That’s not very exciting.” What is with these men thinking I’m cute?