Goat wrestling the day before her wedding was not on Ivy’s agenda, so she quickly slipped into the tack room, partially closing the door to keep Meany out.
“Sorry, but you and I are not besties. You’ll just have to find someone else to cuddle.” She saw it in Meany’s eyes. The utter sadness at being rejected.
Or maybe it was something far more evil, because he dipped his head slightly, narrowed his eyes…
Right before he turned around and kicked.
Ivy automatically jerked away. The motion hadn’t been aimed at her but at something beside the door. A clatter rang out, then a crash, and the door jolted under her fingers.
Through the slight crack between the door and the frame, Meany grinned at her before turning on his heels. He stepped daintily for a couple paces then leapt easily onto the top of the nearest stall, doing an impossible balancing act. Another jump and he was strutting toward the open doorway leading outside to the arena.
“Brat,” Ivy muttered as she went to open the door.
Nothing happened.
She pushed again even as she peered through the crack to try and see—
A large wooden box lay on the ground in front of the door, another just beyond it. They were wedged together tightly enough, that no matter how hard she pushed, Ivy couldn’t make the door budge.
She tried for a solid ten minutes, though, because asking to be rescued would mean having to explain how she got into this situation in the first place.
It was no use.
“Good grief.” Ivy laid her forehead against the solid wood panel and laughed. Beaten by a goat. Not one of her finer moments, but it was funny enough that she was able to appreciate the situation for the novelty factor.
Finally admitting defeat, she pulled out her phone and put through a call to Walker.
Less than five minutes later, the opening at the door widened to reveal his familiar, well-loved features. Curiosity shone in Walker’s eyes, but there was also concern. “Interesting place to meet. You planning on a career change, Princess?”
She stepped into his arms, wrapping her fingers around his broad shoulders. Soaking in his warmth and letting the happiness in her tone assure him that she really was okay. “Meany was the evil mastermind of this tryst.”
“Ah, yes. The goats of doom.” Walker tucked his fingers under her chin and examined her closely before nodding, as if content to find she wasn’t hiding anything. “I got waylaid by my brothers for a state-of-the-union update, and we were just finishing up when Meany dropped in. And then you called.”
She would have explained more, but Walker slid a big hand around her neck and, with gentle but insistent strength, pulled her to him. Their mouths brushed fleetingly, then again. His lips soft against hers, teasing out the teeny bit of frustration that had risen at her predicament.
The kisses grew more heated as they continued. Walker laid his free hand against her lower back and brought their bodies into full contact. His hardness contrasted with her softness in such a perfect way, his lean lines and rock-solid passion making Ivy forget she’d been trapped by a goat. Forget that she still needed to finish getting ready for her wedding.
Forget the tomorrow she was both eager for and dreading, because celebrations meant a gathering, and even though they were her people, Ivy still never knew how she was going to react to a crowd.
Passion flared between her and Walker, intense and wild, the way it always did. White lightning and fire, they were ready to come together, so when he pulled them apart, it was far sooner than she expected.
He leaned his forehead against hers, breathing heavily as he used ironclad control to slow them down. “As much as I want to continue, we need to go help with the goats.”
“Are we making a stew?” Ivy asked. “I could get on board with that—oh!” She ducked away, his fingers sliding off her butt. “Walker. No pinching.”
“No suggesting cannibalism,” he teased. “Those goats are family.”
“Distant family,” she insisted. “And they may not call me Auntie Ivy.”
He laughed as he wrapped his fingers around hers and led her from the barn. “I like your coat, Snow.”
She’d pulled on the bright-blue garment this afternoon because she knew it made him smile. “I love you.”
He left her at the side of the goat pen with a fiery kiss then joined the chase for the elusive pets.
The four brothers worked with Sasha and Emma, although there seemed to be more arm-waving and excited shouting than goat-capturing.
A heavily pregnant Tamara was being escorted by her sister Lisa across the snow toward Ivy.
Ivy took Tamara’s hand and helped her grab the railing for support. “Good to see you up and about.”
Tamara grinned. “How could I miss even a single one of the wild goat escapades?”
Her sister looked puzzled. “I wonder if the girls are jury-rigging the pen to help the creatures get out because of how much excitement it causes.”
The three of them paused, eyeing each other as they considered it, because really, it was possible.
Then Ivy had to shake her head. “Nope. I think it’s one hundred percent evil goat power.”
“Agreed. And for pity’s sake, don’t even think that idea again, Lisa, because if they could, my daughters would,” Tamara warned sternly.
“Oh, no worries.” Lisa glanced at the chaos, a smile on her face. “Nearly ready for tomorrow on our end,” she told Ivy.
“Nearly ready on mine,” Ivy offered brightly.
Lisa’s head swiveled, and she gave Ivy one of those looks. The ones that said the woman knew Ivy was lying her pants off.
The next moment she found herself wrapped up tight in an enormous hug, Lisa whispering in her ear, “You’re going to have an amazing day. I know you will. Trust me.”
The sheer confidence in the message was enough to make Ivy’s nerves relax a little. “Thanks,” she whispered before joining Tamara at the fence.
Lisa backed away. “If you’re both okay, I’ll go help with the roundup.”
Tamara waved her off.
So much to look forward to, so much happiness. Ivy considered how blessed she was as she and Tamara watched seven humans futilely chase three goats with boundless energy.
A lone rider appeared. A rope sailed out, but instead of falling over a goat head, it wrapped around Luke’s shoulders.
His fiancée, Kelli James, moved closer to free him. Ivy deliberately turned so it didn’t look as if she were watching, but it was impossible to look away as the two of them stole off together. Love was written on their every move.
Beside her, Tamara was laughing joyfully at her children and husband. The usually staid-and-stern Caleb appeared to be hamming it up with his children, and Ivy smiled at the sound of little-girl laughter.
When she glanced around to find Walker staring at her with love in his eyes, she nearly melted.
Whatever the next day brought, she’d be able to face it because Walker would be with her. Her heart, her rock-solid base.
Her love.
Walker winked then blew her a kiss.
The next moment, one of the goats ducked past Dustin’s outstretched arms and rammed into the back of Walker’s knees, and he cartwheeled to the ground.
Walker