Reality of Love Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Marika Ray

  We hiked to the trailer and deposited Vincent van Goat—according to his name tag—back in his pen before taking off to find more just like him. It didn’t take long for us to create a tag team system. I startled the shit out of the goats, right into Rhett’s arms. We rescued five more like that before we stumbled upon Natalia standing in front of Frank by the trailer with her hands on her hips.

  “Dammit, Natalia. I told you I’d call you later.”

  Rhett grabbed the waist of my jeans and pulled me to a halt before I got to her.

  Natalia turned, did a double take, then looked Rhett and me up and down with a wrinkled nose. “You didn’t call me back. I texted you like twenty times.”

  I splayed my hands. “As you can see, we had a goat emergency to fix first.”

  Frank shuffled back a step or two each second Natalia’s head was turned in our direction. The guy clearly didn’t want to be talking to his wife. And quite frankly, neither did I. Natalia huffed at me like kid-napping—damn, the puns were a’flowing today—goats off a mountainside was ridiculous.

  “Why don’t you let us deal with this first and then we can all chat?” I smiled broadly, remaining perfectly calm despite the sinking feeling I’d made a wrong turn somewhere. Why was I the designated moderator between these two? I wasn’t a marriage counselor. Hell, I wasn’t even in a goddamn relationship!

  Natalia screwed up her face, which was impressive, given the amount of toxins in there preventing those types of expressions. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, I supposed.

  “Forget the stupid goats already! Frank! Where do you think you’re going? We need to talk about this morning. Who cares about the boring goats!” Natalia’s thin arms were flailing around like she was being attacked by a pack of bees.

  Frank halted his backward shuffle at her words, his spine straightening. Oh shit. I knew that look. That was the look of indignation when someone who was supposed to love you called your baby ugly. I got that same look every time Hew would tell me I was boring. Well, I’d get that look and then I’d slink off as that little bitch voice in my head confirmed it. Frank must not have had that bitch voice because he did the opposite of slink off. He charged forward and towered over Natalia, those bushy eyebrows drawn together like butt cheeks in a prison group shower.

  “How dare you? You know how much my job means to me. My goats are part of my family and right now, even though they’ve wandered off, they treat me far better than you, woman.” He nearly spat the words, Natalia’s eyes blinking with each one like they were a physical blow.

  I glanced over at Rhett, who stood there with his mouth turned down at the edges. His hand was still at my waist, like he was ready to grab me and cut and run at a moment’s notice.

  But then the strangest thing happened. Natalia slumped, her shaking hand coming up to press to Frank’s chest.

  “You’re right. I’m so sorry. I know you love those goats, baby. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess—I guess I was so worried about you thinking I cheated on you that I just couldn’t wait another minute to make things right. Martin kissed me outside the studio and I pushed him away. Probably not as soon as I should have because I was so startled. I haven’t had another man’s lips on me for real since the day I met you, baby. I would never cheat on you. Please believe me.”

  Frank stood completely still, like he was trying to verify the accuracy of her explanation. Natalia started stroking his chest, her body melting into his. When Frank dipped his head to kiss her, Rhett put his arm around me and silently steered me away. A few cringeworthy moans floated over on the wind. Neither of us said a word until we’d climbed over another hill and could no longer see them. Or hear them, thank God.

  “Well, that was interesting. Guess all is well with those two.” I looked around, thinking we’d better get back to rescuing goats. Rounding them up was oddly satisfying. Maybe I missed my calling as a goat wrangler.

  When Rhett didn’t answer, I looked back at him standing there studying me. Now that I thought about it, he’d been quiet for such a loquacious guy.

  “What?”

  “See, this is where we have to talk about things.” Not one dimple winked at me from Rhett’s face. My heart dropped at his serious tone. All the fun of our goat adventure was sucked away with one little sentence.

  22

  Gabby

  “Talk about what?” I asked cautiously.

  Rhett stepped closer, reaching down to take my hands in his. I stayed on the balls of my feet, feeling like I needed to be ready to run. Crazy, I know, but that’s how I felt when men said we needed to talk. Nothing good ever came from that phrase.

  “Natalia called the goats boring and you flinched. I watched your face and it was like you retreated somewhere else in your head.” He leaned in closer, the faint freckles on his cheeks visible in the sunlight. He whispered, “Where’d you go?”

  Well, shit. He wanted me to talk about Hew. Which was at the top of my list of things I didn’t want to talk about. Although I had promised him at dinner to work through our issues together. That idea sounded better when it was a future endeavor that could be pushed off indefinitely, not tackled right here, right now. I changed my mind. I preferred the toe dipping method, not cannonballing into the deep end.

  “But the goats—”

  “Will be fine for a few minutes. Answer the question, Gabriella,” Rhett cut me off and squeezed my hands, impatience clear in the way his eyebrows lowered over his eyes.

  Okay, fine. Time to rip the Band-Aid off. I straightened up, mentally seeing me pull on my big girl panties. They were remarkably similar to grandma panties.

  “Okay, tough guy. I was remembering all the times Hew inferred or outright said I was boring. Seemed a pretty familiar phrase, minus the goat reference, mind you. I could sympathize with how pissed off Frank would be hearing that.”

  Rhett nodded. “Good. I was thinking that was where you’d go. And did it make you angry?”

  “Hell yes, it made me angry.”

  “Why?”

  I wrinkled my nose and shifted from foot to foot. “Well…because…that’s a mean thing to say!”

  “Was it true? Were you boring?”

  My jaw gaped open. I sputtered. “No! Well, okay, maybe sometimes.”

  Rhett kept nodding and suddenly I wanted to hit him in his bobblehead. “So, you got angry because part of you believed what he said was true. What if you believed you were super fun instead? Would that statement of his make you angry still? Or would you laugh it off because it was so unbelievably stupid?”

  My eyes darted back and forth on his face, trying to answer all those questions and think it through. “I guess it wouldn’t matter as much because I’d know it was false.”

  Rhett’s eyes lit up and his eyebrows relented, returning to their proper position on his forehead. “Exactly! So the problem isn’t what he said, it’s your own thoughts in your head about yourself.”

  I stared at him, mouth still open, probably catching flies out here on the mountainside. He made so much sense I hated it. How did this guy, younger than me, figure me out so quickly? Had I hired Dr. Phil as my fake boyfriend?

  I yanked my hands out of his grasp and rested them on top of my head. He looked at me, confused at my reaction. Welcome to the club, Tesoro. Then I popped my hands off my head and made a firework noise with my mouth.

  “Mind blown,” I whispered dramatically.

  Rhett’s face transformed into a huge smile, both dimples coming out of hiding, like a double-barreled weapon, taking me down in a blink of an eye. He yanked me in and wrapped me in his arms. I snuggled in deep and inhaled him.

  “Ew. You kinda smell like a goat,” I said into his chest.

  His body shook with laughter. “We’re wrestling goats off a mountain. Tell me how boring we are now.”

  I poked him in the side, making him jump. “I get it, okay. I’ll trade my granny panties for neon pink sparkly ones.”

  His head shook. “
I don’t know what the hell that means, but I vote yes on that switch.”

  My face stretched wide with a grin. I was happy. Standing there, inhaling goat fumes, I realized I was having more fun than at any other point in my life. All because of my fake boyfriend.

  We eventually broke apart and hunted down more goats. Frank assured us all was well between him and Natalia now. She’d left after promising to never let that happen again with a coworker. I thought Frank might have been a bit too lenient, but who was I to impose on their marriage? Whatever worked for them was fine by me.

  Three goats still evaded our capture: Ramsey, Buttinsky, and Goat Milk. We split up again, with Rhett and I going a little farther out this time, thinking maybe those three had higher endurance and had really gone for mileage when they escaped. We didn’t really know the mind of a goat, so who knew if that was the right strategy. Our cameraman decided he’d gotten enough footage and had a seat in the car, mopping his face and praying for a good breeze.

  I panted hiking up the hillside, my legs on fire and no goat in sight. Rhett took mercy on me by wandering under a huge scrub oak tree and taking a break. The mid-day sun brought intense heat that didn’t help the situation. Rhett sat with his back to the tree trunk, pulling me down in front of him and between his legs.

  If this was meant to be a cool-off, it was failing miserably. His strong arms, the ones with streaks of dirt and a few red slashes from an angry goat’s horns, were banded tightly around me and pressing me into his hard chest.

  “Lay your head back and relax,” he murmured in my ear.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” I tilted my head back and laid it on his shoulder. I was thoroughly cocooned between the bracket of his legs, arms, and his scratchy chin next to my ear. With the breeze drifting below the giant oak branches and cooling the sheen of sweat on my skin, I closed my eyes and truly relaxed. This was heaven.

  A buzzing sensation beneath my skin kept me from nodding off into a nap. If I wasn’t mistaken—and I could be as it had been a while since I’d felt it with this force—the buzz was sexual awareness. Rhett was all over and around me, yet I needed more. Swiveling to the left, I let my lips graze his neck, finding his pulse beating far faster than sitting called for. He tasted faintly of salt and what I could only describe as Rhett. His signature taste was already imprinted in my head where I tucked that information away for my senses only.

  Rhett made a noise, half grunt half moan. His arms tightened around me and I knew it wouldn’t take much to ignite a wildfire out here on the hillside. Apparently Rhett wanted to test that theory as he lifted me up and guided my legs to straddle him. His hands cupped my face as he brought me in close. He didn’t immediately kiss me, which had me rocking against his lap shamelessly. Instead, he just nuzzled my face, inhaling me as he rubbed our cheeks together, first on one side, then the other.

  Just when I couldn’t take the tease any longer, he gave me his lips, plucking and tasting lightly when I wanted to be consumed. Rhett’s words from earlier had had time to seep into my awareness, waking me up to a whole new belief about myself. I wasn’t boring. I never had been. Now that I’d tossed aside Hew’s incorrect version of me, I was left feeling like I’d shed an old skin that had never fit me to begin with.

  I was wild.

  I wanted to be wild.

  I wanted to get wild with Rhett.

  His hand slid up the back of my shirt and for just a moment, I reverted to Gabby 1.0 and worried about how sweaty I was. Not knowing where my head was at, he nibbled on my lip like it was his to do with as he wished and I completely forgot about worrying. If we did it right, we’d be sweaty in a few minutes anyway.

  That hand slid around and cupped my breast through my bra, making my breath hitch. A strong breeze came through, cooling off my exposed back and leaving goose bumps in its wake. The rasp of his beard against my face felt carnal and necessary for my survival. The swipe of his tongue instigated my hip movement, the grind down against his hardening length as natural as breathing. Every sensation felt heightened. One kiss and he’d turned up the dial on every feeling. Sure, he’d already made me come in my bed with just his fingers, but this felt far more intimate.

  I met him with every thrust of his tongue, answering with enthusiasm in the form of involuntary groans and hands clutching at his clothing. He had way too much on, not nearly enough skin available for my liking. His mouth broke away from mine, moving down the column of my neck while he held my hip and encouraged the pace of my slow grind.

  When he licked my ankle, my eyes popped open to see the trunk of the tree we leaned against. Damn, that boy was flexible. He licked again and the lightbulb went off.

  We had a visitor.

  We’d become a threesome.

  I yelped, scrambling off Rhett’s lap to spy a goat standing by our feet. His horns looked unusually large from ground level. I grabbed Rhett’s shirt and pulled, like it could provide the shield I needed to ward off the amorous advances of the goat variety.

  “Help!” I yelled to anyone who would listen. I took one eye off the goat to glance at Rhett. He had a dazed smile on his face and he wasted precious time adjusting the flesh pistol. Had time allowed, I would have rolled my eyes at his masculine priorities. Instead, I decided this was my time to shine. I was Wild Gabby, ready for action and adventure in whatever form it came.

  “Stay back!” I hollered at the goat, jumping into a crouching position, hands out, poised to karate chop that motherfucker to the ground.

  Instead of a fight, he bleated rather pathetically and keeled over, legs stuck straight out like he was having a seizure. His name tag, Buttinsky, jangled as it hit the ground.

  I stared at him, horrified. “Did I just kill a goat?”

  Rhett stood up and pulled me out of my ninja crouch. “Nah. I think you just made him faint from surprise. I don’t think he’s used to badasses.”

  He pulled me in for a hug, while I made sure to keep an eye on the animal, feeling rather smug with my goat wrangling skills. For all I knew, though, that thing could spring back up. I wasn’t sure if goats knew how to play dead to get their way. My godsons sure did and I wasn’t falling for that crap.

  Rhett started to shake. For a split second, I thought the seizures were spreading.

  A ten-year-old girl’s giggle hit my ears and I realized Rhett was laughing.

  Laughing at me.

  I disentangled from his arms and stalked off to find greener pastures. On principle, I had to leave him there. There I was, saving us from being licked to death by Buttinsky and all I got was laughed at.

  “Okay, well, good luck carrying him back to the trailer,” I called over my shoulder. I mean, I would have stayed, even with the laughter at my expense just to get some more make-out time with Rhett, but with the half dead goat there, it would have been a little weird. I had standards.

  I could still hear Rhett laughing and then he said something loud enough I could hear, “There really is something primal about these damn goats.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but he could explain right after he apologized for laughing at me after I’d been assaulted by a deadly goat.

  23

  Rhett

  “Gabby…” I pleaded. Yes, actually pleaded with Gabby as we climbed the stairs to our bedroom. After trailing behind Gabby and her gorgeous ass booking it across the mountainside while I hauled Buttinsky back to the trailer, she’d given me the silent treatment in the car ride home. I’d tried all my usual tactics: jokes, compliments, distraction, and then finally hand holding that turned into more of a tug of war as I tried to keep us on the road and keep some part of me touching Gabby.

  At first I didn’t think she was all that upset about me laughing. I mean, come on. She’d literally scared the shit out of that goat, her chest puffed up with pride at her work. It had been the funniest thing I’d seen in years. Let’s not even get started on where all the blood flow was in my body at that point either. I hadn’t really been thinking, I’d jus
t been reacting. Not that I’d ever say this to Gabby, but really, my laughing was her fault. She’d kissed the hell out of me, making me discombobulated, and then knocked out a goat in a comical fighter stance without a gorgeous strand of hair out of place.

  That shit was funny.

  And totally her fault.

  She threw open the door to the bedroom and stalked to the bathroom, whipping her shirt over her head and throwing it to the ground in what might have been my dream come true. I nearly tripped over my own feet and came to an abrupt halt to take in the show.

  “Wait! Stop!” I threw my hands out, part of me slapping myself for stopping the strip show I’d give my life to see.

  She turned around, intrigued as I was that I wanted her to stop undressing. I swallowed hard, threatening my eyes with a roll in poison ivy if they drifted below her neck.

  “Please. Stop undressing or you won’t take my apology.”

  She cocked her head. “Explain that.”

  I took a step forward, clenching my hands into fists at my sides to keep them from reaching out to touch all that smooth skin already on display. “If you get undressed and I apologize, you’ll think I’m only saying sorry because of your naked status. And that would be untrue.”

  Gabby crossed her arms over her chest, which so didn’t help things. The movement pressed her breasts up higher and my damn traitorous eyes took it in before I wrangled them back up to her face. “Continue.”

  I nodded once. “The thing is, I think you’re adorable and so lovely I can’t help but be happy around you. And when I’m happy, I laugh. A lot. I can’t seem to help it. So, when I was laughing after you knocked out Buttinsky, it wasn’t laughter directed at you. It was just me being happy with your methods of goat apprehension. Distinct difference. I’m sorry you thought I was laughing at you, but I would never disrespect you like that.”