before…well, not in person. Only in memes that his colleagues liked to send around occasionally. Then there was his friend who’d gone to South America and posted a bunch of pictures with him and the furry creatures to Facebook. They didn’t look that scary.
“Lily…don’t you dare!”
Ronan exited the aisle in time to see Lily, whom he could only assume was the shaggy beast taking up most of the space in the front of the bookstore—thus blocking the exit—nudge a pile of books, sending them toppling over.
“You confounding animal!” Mr. Hart was shakily getting to his feet. He was protected by a large, heavy banker’s desk, complete with hunter green leather insert and matching lamp. “Go on, shoo! Get out of here.”
But Lily merely looked at him with the disdain of someone who knew they were in the position of power. She stretched up to her full height, and Ronan gulped. Okay, so maybe she did look a little mean. And damn if she didn’t weigh over three hundred pounds. At her full height, he’d guess her to be a hair under six feet tall, meaning she could look him right in the eyes.
Her coat was mainly white, with patches of a warm brown on her face, neck, and hindquarters. For a second, he swore her eyes flashed at him.
“Do they normally get that big, or is she special?” Ronan turned around to look at Audrey, only to find her hiding behind a smaller bookshelf, the top of her blond head poking over the top. “Coward.”
“Coward?” she gasped. “You can see that thing, right? She’s a monster.”
“Audrey, dear. Is that you?” Mr. Hart peered into the bookstore, trying to locate the source of the feminine voice. “Can you call the farm? She’s making a mess of everything again.”
Lily snorted, as though insulted that her “decorating skills” weren’t being admired. As if in retaliation, she lifted her hind hoof and kicked at another stack of books, sending them flying.
“Dammit!” Mr. Hart slapped his hand down on the desk. “Why do you hate me, llama?”
“I’ll see if I can get her to back up and go through the door.” Ronan took a step forward, hands outstretched, and the llama immediately swung her head toward him. “Whoa girl, easy.”
Behind him, Audrey could be heard talking to someone on the phone. But Lily didn’t seem content to wait for her owner to come collect her. Oh no—she seemed determined to destroy everything in her path.
“Stop!” Ronan clapped his hands and immediately regretted it. Lily looked at him, her head slightly lowered, as if she were about to charge him. “It’s okay, girl. We just want you to leave the books alone.”
He used his best teacher voice—the one he’d leaned on many times when a student was crying in his office about how they were going to fail…usually because they’d left things to the last minute, he might add. It was equal parts soothing and steady, designed not to raise blood pressure.
But clearly Lily did not want to be calmed.
Instead, she made the most bloodcurdling sound that Ronan had ever heard. “Uh oh.”
“You made her angry,” Audrey said from behind the bookcase. “It’s not good when she gets angry.”
“Is that what they’re supposed to sound like?” Ronan blinked.
The llama let out the same bleating, hollering sound, which could only be described as Chewbacca on helium crossed with angry cat gurgling. In other words, a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Lily took a step toward him, her big body squeezing between the bookshelves and Mr. Hart’s desk. The space was cramped, even for humans. But for the llama, if she went too much farther in, she’d risk getting stuck.
That wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Maybe she was scared. Animals were wired to defend themselves, right? If he didn’t treat her like a monster, then perhaps she wouldn’t act like one.
“There’s a good llama.” Ronan took a step toward Lily, and she tossed her head, glaring at him. Could llamas glare? It certainly felt like it. “Let’s go outside. It’s sunny outside; you’ll like it better out there.”
“Don’t get too close,” Audrey advised from behind her barricade. “She—”
Audrey’s advice was cut short by the llama drawing her head back and spitting right in Ronan’s face. The moisture hit the side of his cheek, as instinct had made him turn his head, and now it was sliding down to his jaw in a slow, soggy trail.
“She spat in his face!” Mr. Hart shoved his glasses