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The security cameras I was so against are now fully installed, camouflaged and the same color as the house so they don’t stand out as much as I was expecting. I also have a team of two men stationed at the front of the property. They can see exactly who is coming in and out, both day and night. Again, something Tanner organized. They do give me some peace, even though they are a little annoying. I look up and see one walk past the shed again, doing a perimeter walk, which they do on the hour, every hour.
“How much milk do you need?” Kevin asks, and I smile. I have at least got him thinking about it.
“Well, I am not really sure, but I think we could probably make a few bars of soap from each day's worth of milking,” I tell him, needing to do more research on it.
“How soon will the baby girls be able to produce milk?” I ask, because with two young female goats, plus Gertie, then we already have three on the roster.
Kevin looks at me again, a little unsure, a little inquisitive.
“It could be a joint venture, Kevin. You and me. We will have our own business and split the profits fifty-fifty,” I tell him, smiling. He is a tween, so he’d probably rather be playing sports or something, but a little hobby that makes some money never hurt anyone.
“My mom makes soap,” he says, and my eyes widen.Jackpot!
“She does?”
“Yep, she uses the lavender from Tanner’s distillery garden and some oils and things, but never goat milk. We don’t know anyone with a goat,” Kevin says with a shrug. Of course she does; Tanner would give the people around here the shirt off his back.
“Well, you do now.” And just like that, our plan is hatched.
“A girls’night?” Tanner looks at me like I just asked for a million dollars. It isn’t a big ask under normal circumstances, but I need him to go back to his place for a night. He needs a decent sleep, some time with his son and business, and needs to relax and not worry about me. I am doing enough of that for both of us.
“Yes. Face masks, wine, movies, talk about boys. A girls’ night,” I explain. I have been cooped up all week, and I need a bit of fun. When Jasmine suggested that she and Lacy come over for the night, I jumped at the chance.
“What boys?” he questions with a frown, and I chuckle as I throw some dirt at his face.
“The tall, dark, grumpy kind.” I smile as I get back to planting the flowers I got from town. I am trying to make a floral paradise around my home, to give it a bit of color.
“I don’t know…” he grumbles, the look on his face full of concern.
“Please. The guys will be out front. I know you have a million things to do at the distillery. So you can have the night off babysitting me, and both the girls can come over instead.” I will miss him. I love having him in my bed every night. But I do know he is busy, and I feel guilty for taking up so much of his attention lately.
It has been a week since Josh was charged and released. The sheriff ensured he left town, and I was told he moved so quickly, he left a cloud of dust in his wake. Asshole.
“I don’t feel good about it, baby girl,” Tanner admits, sitting back on his heels.
“I know you are concerned. But really, we will be fine. You are only a minute away at the distillery. I will call you if I need you,” I tell him, trying to give him a reassuring smile. I love how protective he is of me, and I know he is worried, but I will be fine.
I can see him thinking about it. Connor calls him regularly, and Lacy said that they are busy with new deals, so I know he needs to be there, spend some time with the team. His to-do list is probably a mile long by now.
“Promise to call me?” he asks.
“I promise,” I say, my grin instant as he pulls me close.I kiss him, pulling his head toward mine, his face now covered in soil, and he slaps my ass as we laugh at each other. I don’t need his permission and he knows I am not asking for that reason. But he is as wound up by this threat as I am, and his protective nature runs deep. This is a nice compromise.
“Oh, I have a surprise to show you!” I say, almost completely forgetting as I jump up and dust myself off.
“What is it, baby?”
I remain tight-lipped as I grab his hand and pull him inside.
“Ta-da!” I say as I sweep my arm across the new photo wall I constructed this morning while he was at work.
“What’s this?” he asks as he takes a step forward, looking at the photos.
“These are some of the photos I found in Marie’s things. I got matching frames to display them. See, there is me as a kid, playing outside.” I point it out, and his eyes move to where I am pointing.
“Cutie,” he says, smiling.
“And that is Marie at Christmastime,” I continue, and his eyes roam, following my arm.
