Conquering Love

by Willow Summers

  With a full heart contrasting her feeling of dread for the future, she drifted off into sleep.

  Chapter 7

  “High five!”

  Greg turned to a palm in his face. He swatted it away, only to have it spring back up, right in front of his eyes.

  A surge of desire to duck under and catch her around the middle, ripping her into his body for a tight hug, came over him. His arms jerked forward, eager to touch her. To have her hold him. Instead, with shaking hands and holding back with everything he had, he slapped her hand. He could only resist one thing, and it had to be that which would make her go running.

  “Yes! Oh my God. Sir—” Christie turned to a random tourist with a kid’s hand in each of his own. “Can you take a picture of us? A momentous occasion just occurred.”

  “Whaa…” The man hesitated, confused.

  “Picture. Here. Let me have this—” She took over a kid’s hand. “And you take this.”

  “But…” The man looked at his five or six year old boy dressed in store-bought cowboy attire.

  “Here, sweetie, you go stand right next to your older brother. Here, take his hand.” She bent, right to the older boy’s eyes. “You look after her, okay? Your daddy is going to take a quick picture.”

  “I always do.” The little boy grabbed his younger sister around the chest and hauled her closer. She half fell into him with a scrunched up, annoyed face.

  “Great. Sir—” Christie snaked her hand around her phone and organized the picture. A moment later she stepped closer to Greg and slid her arm around his middle. Her other hand was in the air, ready for his high-five.

  “I can’t really go back on it with this man on the hook,” Greg said in a mock done-in voice. He put arm around Christie’s shoulders and hugged her closer, into his body. Amazingly, and for the first time, her hand tightened around his middle. They’d taken a million pictures together for all sorts of reasons or purposes. Christie loved to get in front of the camera. But she usually let her hand hang loosely around him, all for show.

  He put his palm to hers, leaning as close as he could, stealing her warmth. Her feminine smell, both pleasant and sexy, wrapped around him. Her touch vibrated his body, making his cock react immediately.

  “Thanks.” Christie stepped away to take the phone. Slowly, her hand drifted down his side and away from his body. His arm was just as slow to move away. “Cute.” She showed him the picture. Her beautiful face glowed with a winning smile, her body fitting perfectly into his.

  “Send that to me,” he said in a husky voice, bending at the waist so his erection didn’t pop out and scare the children. Or the picture-taker.

  “Yes, sir.” She bent to the phone again.

  He felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket a moment after she surveyed their surroundings. It didn’t help the issue of his erection.

  “So. Petting zoo.” She punched him on the arm. “I thought Noah ran this?” She reached behind her and pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket.

  “He’s not good with kids, and this was a poor time to learn, so we had to switch. You haven’t memorized your schedule yet?” Greg grinned before he moved to the front of the line of waiting kids and parents.

  “It’s been a week and a half, and Sara put some craziness on here. She has me cooking for the staff on Fridays now. Ethel and Florence are so pissed!”

  Greg opened the gate and put his pointer finger in the air. “Just a moment, folks. I want to check on the animals.” He stepped out of the way for Christie to enter in front of him before following her through. “Are they off that night?”

  “No, they are prepping. But that’s it. I am running the show. What do you want me to do?”

  “That’s kind of a big deal, right? Sara has that much faith in you?” He motioned her toward the goats, the hardiest of the animals, which were penned in the corner. “Just make sure they all look good.”

  “Ew.”

  “What’s the matter?” Greg stalled on his way to the llamas.

  “Their heads are hard. It’s weird.”

  “Those are called horns…”

  “I’m not a dummy, idiot. I know why their heads are hard, but still. They aren’t fun to pet.”

  “Shhh!” Greg glanced behind him at the waiting patrons.

  “Sorry.” Christie waded through goats, each of them nibbling at her fingers and nipping at her jeans.

  “So why does Sara have so much faith?” Greg paused as he moved to the lambs. “I mean…you know…since you haven’t cooked before…”

  Christie’s eyebrows lifted, waiting for the next assignment.

  “Let them out, too. You have to let them out.” Greg pointed at the small latch on the chicken wire.

  Christie rolled her eyes, probably at herself, before freeing the goats. When she was done, Greg pointed at the deer.

  “Aww.” Christie smiled and started over.

  “So…not to ruin your ego, but…why?”

  “I am ruined. Utterly. Thanks for crushing my dreams.” Someone in the line snickered. Christie glanced that way before shooting him an apologetic grimace. “They have a nice kitchen. Way bigger than mine. And I have a key. So…”

  “You make them dinner? Why haven’t you made me dinner?”

  Christie hesitated a moment too long before she said, “I didn’t realize you ate.”

  Greg huffed, applauding her for handling her awkwardness so well. Because that’s what it was. He knew that now. She found relationships of any degree awkward, some more than others, and she shied away. It took him only a week and a half’s worth of distance to realize that. He’d been so blind.

  “So Sara eats, huh?” Greg said as he finished looking over the piglets.

  “Sara and Mike eat!” Christie headed to the geese. One of the geese rushed to her, looking for food. “Ugh. These are worse than goats. Get back, you devil!” She flung her foot in the air dramatically. The crowd snickered and a few children guffawed.

  “Sara thinks you’re good enough to feed the guests, then. You must be great!”

  “The staff. I am nowhere near good enough to feed the guests.”

  Greg gestured her toward the gate. He opened it, not waiting for her, and scanned the wrists of the first five people. Seeing the green wristband of the guests, he motioned them in. He did that through the whole line, one family at a time, and then stood off to the side, letting Christie step up.

  “What is your favorite dish?” Greg asked, checking his watch. His job was to manage this task. With Christie at the helm, he could easily walk away all day and have no problem.

  He could…

  Christie tilted her head at the sky. “Hmm. To eat or make?” She pointed at two adults passing by. “You guys want to pet a deer?”

  The couple hesitated. The woman looked toward the zoo.

  “Little fawns. They are so cute.” Christie opened the gate, motioning them forward. “Sir, don’t let your wife wonder for the rest of her life how adorable it is to pet a fawn. Do her a favor. Come in.”

  Matching his wife’s smile, he walked forward, his arm around his her back. They dug in their pockets.

  “Nah, you’re okay. Enjoy.” Christie waved them through.

  “Against the rules,” Greg said as he leaned back against a tree and crossed his arms, not interceding.

  “There is no way they live in town. Since they’re staying here, all they’d have to do is put on the bracelet provided. It’s legit.”

  “They could be staying in town.”

  “If they were staying in town, they’d be here specifically for a class or event. That would mean they were on a schedule. That would mean they wouldn’t dally. This is dallying. Trust me, Dr. Watson, they are staying here.”

  “You know what room they’re in, don’t you?”

  “One-oh-five. I fed them breakfast.” Christie smiled over her shoulder at him. “You’re too smart for your own good. And my favorite to make is chili.”

  Gr
eg shook his head. A couple of families walked up at the same time. Greg watched Christie as she checked them in. The sun sprinkled off her golden hair and highlighted her beautiful face. It was then he noticed the light blue at the corner of her eye that reached onto her cheek. Straightening up, he leaned closer, seeing a bruise.

  “What is this?” Without thinking, he grabbed her chin and tilted her face up to him.

  The blotched bruise was light, but covered a fist-sized area. A tiny line of red cut through the white of her eye. “Who did this?” Greg demanded, a shock of pain and anger bleeding through him.

  Christie’s eyes went wide. “Did what?” she asked in a wispy voice.

  Greg traced the light blue with a finger. “This.” His voice was harder than he meant it to be. “Who were you with last night?”

  “Oh.” She didn’t move away, lingering against his touch. “I fell onto the bed, realizing too late that it wasn’t my bed. Paige left a box of some kind on it. So I hit off that.”

  Greg bent down into her face, inches from her. He looked between her eyes, seeing wide pupils. “Honest?”

  “Honest.” Her lips curved upwards. “I swear.”

  His thumb glanced across her cheek of its own accord. His other hand landed on her shoulder, and then slid along her back. He nearly flexed, wanting to pull her in, but realized her limbs were limp and her eyes were tinged with fear.

  He stepped away, not wanting to spook her. “You should be careful,” he said softly.

  Her face turned crimson before she breathed loudly. Something had affected her, but whether it was his proximity, or something else, she didn’t say. Instead, she absently looked into the petting area. “Oh shit!”

  Belatedly, Greg realized what she saw. A fawn was going after one of the guests, nibbling at her skirt.

  As Christie waded through the squealing and laughing children to the teenage girl trying to shoo away the deer, Greg realized that the girl was looking down anxiously. A two year old was tottering toward a goat. The goat turned, saw food, and rushed forward toward the toddler.

  A surge of adrenaline coursed through Greg. He followed Christie inside, running in front of her and scooping up the child just as the goat crowded him. Christie stepped between the girl and the fawn, holding her hand out to keep the animal’s head away.

  “They’re greedy,” Christie said with her infallible smile.

  The girl, unsure how to handle the situation, half-smiled at Christie’s prompting. She turned to Greg, reaching for the toddler. Her body jerked back and her eyes went wide, as she stared up at him.

  “He’s okay,” Greg hastened to say, not putting the child down. “But you shouldn’t give him food around the goats or llamas without staying close. He’s very small.”

  “Okay.” A shy grin spread across the girl’s face. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “Or a fawn. Talk about a buzz kill in the cuteness department.” Christie backed the animals up. “I don’t have anything,” she said through clenched teeth.

  The girl looked at Christie, then back to Greg and started laughing. She took the toddler and turned, looking back twice before she joined a couple who must’ve been her parents.

  “What is your deal?” Christie ducked away from a buck-toothed llama staring her in the eye. “Get out of here.” The llama groaned at her, seemingly in annoyance. “Oh really? I’m the bad guy? You came after me, you jerk llama.” She shoo’ed two goats away from nibbling at her jeans. “Why do people want to come to these things?” Giggling, she arched her back and skirted away from the llamas again. “I said don’t have anything, you beasts!”

  Greg stepped forward, putting on his menacing demeanor. The animals backed up, analyzing him. It wouldn’t take them long before they realized he was no real threat. Then they’d be searching his pockets.

  “C’mon.” Greg put his hand on her lower back to guide her away.

  “I didn’t realize you had Jake’s pull with the beasties.” Christie wrapped her hand around his forearm.

  “If you can’t pull your wait with a llama, you don’t deserve the position.” He closed the gate behind them. A child squealed as she touched the back of a lamb.

  “I never got this when I was a kid,” Christie said in a flat voice. She gestured before her. “Zoos, petting or otherwise. I only got to see them from the road.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Upstate New York. It was half country, half urban. Rich people that worked in the city mixing with normal people.” She put air quotes around normal as she stared into the enclosure. “We weren’t even normal. We were poor. My dad left when I was little. He had some money, I think. My mom was…” Christie shook her head and turned to face the opposite direction. “I think she’d gotten used to a certain living arrangement, and without him, she didn’t have it. I think she got alimony—I don’t know for sure, but she must have because she didn’t work and still had money for us. But whatever she was used to, and whatever she got, was a big divide. Big.”

  She stared off into space.

  “Did you know your father?” Greg asked softly, feeling a familiar pang in his heart. Her story could’ve mimicked his, except his mother worked two jobs and didn’t get a dime from his dead-beat dad.

  She shrugged and then shook herself. A smile replaced the dejected frown. “Nope.”

  Her eyes focused, her smile beamed, and she looked at the path in front of them. Waiting for passers-by and a distraction. She’d just given away what it looked like when she was hiding her pain.

  Greg had seen that look more times than he could count. He’d always thought she was actually happy and bubbly. It was a terrible realization to know that he was joking with her while she was hurting behind the mask.

  Unlike the way he normally ducked the issue by falling silent, he kept the conversation flowing, giving her the distraction she obviously needed. “So what’s worse? Llama, fawns or goats?”

  Her brow furrowed before her fake smile dwindled. “Hmm.” She rubbed her chin. “Well now, that is a hard one. Ma’am.” She pointed at a woman with wild hair and harrowed eyes coming toward the gate with two kids. “Would you like to take advantage of the special?” Christie pointed at the two kids.

  “Wha-what?” The woman smoothed back frizzy hair and blinked through her confusion. The boys at her sides, probably four and twins, went for each other. One grabbed the other’s hair and yanked.

  Fists came out swinging.

  “The special.” Christie waded between them and motioned Greg over. Her disarming smile had the woman letting Christie take one of the boy’s hands, and softly pushing the other toward Greg. “We’ll take them in and you can man the gate. All you have to do is check for a green band around the wrist.”

  The woman’s lips made a tight line. It was probably supposed to be a smile. “Oh no. Ha. That’s okay. They’re just a little worked up after breakfast.”

  “Then I feel a little responsible.” Christie crouched down and put out her hand for a low five. “I served you breakfast. So we’ll just take them around, then come back. Just stand to the side. Trust me, you don’t want to mess with the llamas. They’re crazy.”

  Recognition came into the woman’s eyes. “Oh yes.” She half pointed, her eyes crinkling at the corners, before she clutched the front of her loose sweater. She smoothed her hair again. “Yes, that’s right. Thank you, for the hot chocolate. The other lady said you didn’t have any.”

  “It’s a special recipe.” Christie winked, a kind of scrunching of her face. “She probably meant that she couldn’t execute it to perfection and didn’t want to ruin your expectations.”

  The woman’s eyes crinkled again. She looked down at her boys, hesitant.

  “Oh, don’t worry about them. They can run wild in here. These animals are hardier than they are.” Christie smiled at each of the boys. “Do you want to feed a goat?”

  “Yes!” The boys squealed.

  “Well let’s go!” Christ
ie gave the woman a thumbs up as the little boy yanked her toward the zoo. Greg was yanked a moment later.

  “Awfully trusting,” Greg said, trying not to squeeze the little boy’s hand too hard.

  “She saw me this morning, so she knows I work at the ranch. Now I’m here. It’s not trusting, it’s gratitude.”

  “It’s trust. If it were me, she would’ve insisted on going in.”

  Christie led them to the lambs and knelt down next to the boy, instructing him on petting it instead of pulling or slapping, like he was trying to do. Greg studied her as the other boy joined the first, both of them laughing at the texture of the wool.

  She was such a natural with children, patient and joyous. She guided them when they needed it, or commanded them to calm down when they became too rowdy. Amazingly, they listened. They did as she said and each tried to get as close as they could for any kind of praise.

  “Do you want children?” Greg heard himself asking.

  Christie glanced up with the wariness he should’ve been expecting. What he hadn’t expected, though, was the sadness weighing down her features. In a voice dripping with self-loathing, she said, “You have to have s-e-x to have children. I don’t qualify.”

  “Are you…” He helped her escort the kids to the piglets. They laughed like lunatics as they ran around, trying to catch one. Their mother stood just outside the gates, clutching the front of her sweater and watching her boys from a distance, a soft smile on her face. He watched Christie’s face closely, not sure what her statement meant. “You’re waiting for marriage, or…”

  She scoffed. “You need a boyfriend to get married. Boyfriends need s-e-x.” She looked around her as she spelled out sex again. “Like I said, I don’t qualify.”

  “Not all boyfriends need…” he lowered his voice. “They don’t all need sex. Some would take you however they could get you.” His throat tightened with that admission.

  He swallowed down the lump in his throat, wanting to gently extract as much information as she would offer without sending her running. Or worse, getting the angry Christie. That girl was a little scary. “Is there a reason why you can’t have sex? Maybe something we’d—” He grimaced. Now he definitely gave himself away. “Maybe protection would solve the problem…”