Then, like her not remembering me wasn’t offensive enough, she made a noise like she got who I meant.
“How are the horses? I loved that big black stallion you had the last time we were out visiting. I know we didn’t get to see you, but thank you for letting us swing by and spend the day there. Wait, who’s looking after them while you’re here?”
Usually, when a woman rambled and asked questions with no break between sentences, it irritated the shit out of me. The cute, ditsy chick image wasn’t as cute as they thought it was. It was the total opposite, in fact. But for some reason, teamed with her crazy curly hair and the quick glimpse of her face I’d managed before she cruelly burst my balls, I didn’t feel the normal irritation over it.
No, I was feeling it for a whole other reason.
“Marcus is looking after the stallion and the other horses because they’re his horses,” I ground out, not raising my head and aiming my glare at her toes instead.
Oh, fucking hell, even those were adorable in her Birkenstocks—that looked like they were a child’s size—and her black polished toenails with pink glitter on them.
Confusion swamped her voice when she replied. “But, you said they were yours? You should have just been honest, they’re only horses.”
This time, I raised my head to glare at her. Sure, it was weak, but it was all I could manage. “I’ve never lied to you because it was Marcus’s place you went to and saw his horses.”
Tilting her head to the side, she frowned down at me. “But you said they were your horses?”
“I most certainly never said that.”
Her eyes moved away from me as she no doubt ran our conversation through in her mind. “You said you were the good looking twin.”
“I am,” I clipped. “And you said you liked my horses, not me.”
“Oh,” she drawled, wincing. “I get it. You’re the”—she lifted her hands and did air quotes—“good looking twin.”
Not only were my balls twitching deep inside my body where they were now hiding, but my eye had started doing it, too. “I am.”
“Yes, you are,” she winked exaggeratedly down at me. “How can I help you, ‘good looking’ twin?”
Swear to God, if she didn’t stop doing those fucking air quotes, I’d lose my shit. Well, when I could breathe without wanting to cry.
“Mom asked me to check on you,” I said through my deep breathing. “Your dads are worried.”
Shrugging a shoulder, she jingled her keys in the air above my head, then turned and pushed one into the keyhole on her door.
“I’m doing good, as you can see. My dads worry a lot, though, so I’m glad they’ve got you to put their minds at ease.”
I would’ve replied, except the second her door opened, I came face to face with something that made what should have been an embarrassing noise come out of me, but I was too focused on making sure I was seeing it right to feel ashamed by it.
What in the all hell’s fuck was this?
“Sorry, that’s my cat, Milkshake.”
Blinking rapidly in case my vision had been impacted by my balls, I stared at “Milkshake.”
“Did you call him that ‘cause of his coloring?”
The cat looked at me, twitched its tail, then walked up until it was only about three inches away from my face, giving me a closer view of its face. Unfortunately.
“No, it’s ‘cause he’s so good looking, his milkshake brings all the girls to the yard,” she replied seriously.
The laugh that burst out of me offended the cat if his flattened ears were anything to go by, but it also made me groan in pain. Did that stop me, though? The hell it did.
“His eyes are crossed. It’s like they’re arguing with the center of his head. Trust me, no girls are coming to his yard.”
They weren’t just crossed, the damn things were inspecting where his third eye would be if he was of a particular faith. And they were light blue, so it had an even more significant impact than if they’d been brown or a standard cat's eyes color.
“Milkshake’s a Siamese, and he’s a purebred.”
“Bullshit,” I rasped, looking back up at the beast. “His parents were totally related by at least three generations of family loving. Those eyes.” I shuddered.
Making a cute, frustrated noise, I watched out of the corner of my eye as her sparkly toenails lifted and lowered as she tapped her foot on the ground. “Did you come here just to insult my pussy cat?”
Lifting my head slightly, I came face to face with her other pussy, blinked, and then tilted it farther back until I got to her face. Her mightily pissed off face at that.
“Your dads sent me.” Fisting my hands on the ground, I got one foot under me, breathed through the residual pain, then clumsily stood up until I was leaning on her door frame. “Please don’t do that again.”