Flipping Love You (Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild #3) - Erin Nicholas Page 0,8
of course.
But even two or three would just make the headache that was starting to brew behind his eyes worse.
“Leo’d be best,” he said out loud.
His grandfather wasn’t judgmental and had helped all of his grandsons out of worse than this at one time or another.
“But Leo’s never alone,” Zeke realized. Also out loud.
Leo would tell you it was because of the good-old-boy charm that was his curse, but the truth was, Leo never wanted to miss a thing, whether it be a tall tale, a bit of gossip, a dramatic moment, or a funny story. Or a chance at the last piece of pie—no matter the flavor.
“Could call Mitch.” Mitch had just driven by. And he was by far the nicest of the Landrys. Old or young. Not that the bar was very high.
Zeke started to dial Mitch’s number.
“Oh, baby, are you okay?”
His finger froze and he rolled his head at the sound of the feminine voice.
Or he could just let the owner of that voice take care of him.
“I’m a little sore, actually.”
The woman plopped onto her knees in the dirt beside him.
It was dark, so he couldn’t see her well.
That was also why he hadn’t clearly seen whatever it was that ran out in front of him until it was too late. He also hadn’t really been paying attention. He’d been too caught up in his thoughts about the penguin veterinarian and her new old house.
He was suddenly much less annoyed though.
The woman kneeling next to him leaned in and he caught the scent of coffee and soap.
He wasn’t sure why that struck him. Maybe because it was simple. She didn’t smell like perfume or flowery shampoo. She just smelled clean and comforting. Like that first cup of coffee in the morning after a shower.
That was a really weird thing to notice. And who drank coffee at eleven o’clock at night?
He probably had a concussion.
Great. That was just what he needed.
“Oh, sweetie,” she cooed.
And yep, he definitely felt a little better.
“I’ll be okay, but I could use a hand,” he said. Specifically, a woman’s soft hand rubbing his head and maybe her lips kissing his bump better.
Did he know her? She had long, dark hair and that was about all he could tell.
“Are you hurt or just scared?”
Zeke pushed himself up to sitting, wincing as his head swam and his leg ached as he shifted it. “A little hurt. Not scared at all.”
The woman looked up at him. “What?”
It was then that he realized she wasn’t talking to him.
And that she was holding a goat.
The little thing was cradled in her lap. It was also black.
He was ninety percent sure this was the reason that his bike was lying on its side in the ditch and he was bleeding from the head.
The woman was calling the goat “baby”.
“Wait, you’re worried about the goat?”
“You almost ran him over,” she said. “The poor thing’s probably terrified.”
“Do you see me lying here? Under a motorcycle? Bleeding?”
“Your own motorcycle. That you almost hit this goat with.”
Unbelievable.
Besides her long, dark hair which fell in waves to nearly the middle of her back, he could see she was small and slender. Her skin was pale, glowing just slightly in the moonlight and the dim light offered by the streetlamps across the road.
“Did you come over here to check on the goat?”
“Yes.”
“No concern for the human being at all?”
“I came over to make sure you were alive. But I immediately realized you were conscious and breathing.”
“How’s that?”
“You were moving around. And swearing. I saw you move the motorcycle off your leg. And I heard you talking to yourself. About Leo.”
Okay, so he was alive. There was a lot of space between that and totally fine though. “What if that’s the sign of a brain injury?”
“I certainly hope it’s not,” she said. “I talk to myself all the time.”
He noticed she was stroking her hand over the goat’s back as she held him and he seemed quite content in her lap.
Yeah, it was his experience with these goats—yes, he had experience with these goats because they belonged to his cousins’ petting zoo—that they loved attention in general and were smart enough to prefer female attention.
He frowned at the little animal. This one was Sneezy. Not because he actually sneezed a lot—or ever, as far as Zeke knew—but because some of the goats were named after the seven dwarves and, well, someone had to be Sneezy.