Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

I did notice another building off behind the barn that’s open on the sides with more bales, but big round ones this time, which must be feed for the horses or cows. I’m just guessing that one, though.

Becki’s sweet voice soon joins in with the sounds of animals eating, so I follow it to the back of the barn. I’m not trying to be stealthy, but it’s obvious she can’t hear me. When I see her in the stall with a donkey, brushing him down while he eats out of a pail, I duck around the side and don’t interrupt her. All I can say is that watching her work her magic is, well, magic.

“Oh my goodness, you should have seen her. She was the sweetest little thing. I have a weakness for calicos. Wait, what’s that? I have a weakness for everyone? You’re right, Harold. You’re so right.” Becki laughs and runs a brush down the shaggy gray donkey’s side. “I found a placement for her with a group that just takes RH cases. It was so lucky. Erin from another rescue knew someone who knew someone, and by the time I picked the little girl up from the shelter, it was all arranged. I just had to drive her over. It was on the far side of the city, so I’m sorry I’m late. I know you were all hungry here. I thought about it all the way home, but I just couldn’t not go and help her. She’s such a darling, and I know she’s going to grow up into the most beautiful lady.”

The donkey has a bucket of something hung up on the wall, from which he’s eating, but he lifts his head out and brays at Becki. She laughs and strokes his face.

“Oh dear. Are you jealous? You’re still my handsome man. That’s never going to change.”

The donkey practically purrs like a funny looking, overgrown feline when Becki rubs under his chin.

I figure maybe that’s enough creeping on her, so I duck into the stall’s entrance and clear my throat. Startled by my sudden appearance, Becki jumps so high that she’d give a track star a run for their money.

“Oh jaysus,” she gasps. Her hand flies to her throat, and she nearly smacks herself in the face with the brush. “You scared the crap straight out of me.”

“I certainly hope not,” I chuckle.

She blinks for a second, still breathing hard, but then manages a twisted grin. “No, not for real. But close. What are you doing in here?”

“I was looking for you.”

“Hmm. Well, good guess.”

She starts brushing the donkey again, but she’s no longer talking to him, and I’m sorry I interrupted her.

“Do you always talk to them?”

“Of course. Why not? I’m alone here. Even if I weren’t, don’t you think they understand? I mean, maybe not every word or even every other word, but my tone and emotion?”

That’s a good question. I guess I never really thought about it before. I’ve never had so much as a cat or a dog. My father was absolutely against pets in his home, and I guess it carried over to me when I bought my house. I spent good money on the décor, and I couldn’t imagine the furniture getting wrecked or pet hair all over everything. My housekeepers would probably quit, and it’s also unprofessional to have to lint roll my suit every morning and have someone notice that a spot was missed and is covered in animal DNA.

“I—I suppose they do.”

Becki gives me a look that says she’s calling me on my bullshit, big time. It’s a look that shows she knows I’m thinking about animal hair versus my furniture right now. Her look also says I’m making the wrong choice by caring about inanimate objects, but it’s also not judgemental. It’s just there, plain as dang day for me to read.

“I wanted to talk to you about your financials,” I say, remembering the real reason I came out here to find her. It wasn’t to stare at her, gobsmacked, while she brushed down and chatted with a donkey, but apparently, I was alright with that option too.

I really don’t know what it is about Becki. She has this aura about her like a freaking barn fairy or something—a overalls clad, rubber boot wearing, manure clad fairy.

“You look amused,” Becki notes. “Did you find a crap ton of errors?”

“No. Actually…” I wipe the ‘amused’ look off my face. Thank goodness she took it as some kind of mirth and not what it really was—attraction. Yeah. I was staring at her, appreciating her, and thinking about her as a poop fairy. “I didn’t find any mistakes I could see. I—I wanted to say you were right.”

“I’m sorry?” Becki’s brows skyrocket up to her hairline. “What did you say?”