Otterly Scorched

by Tara Sivec

  “You tell anyone I’ve gone soft and—”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’ll kick my ass,” he replies, kissing the tip of my nose before pulling back and bending his elbow for me to take.

  “Let’s go get you some dik-dik.”

  Dax wags his eyebrows at me. I laugh and shake my head at him, and we head off in the direction of Ryan’s screams to wrangle my new pet and enjoy this otterly ridiculous life we seemed to have created for ourselves.

  EPILOGUE

  Dax

  Six months later…

  “Your coffee, sir.”

  I look up from the bench I’ve been sitting on to eye the Styrofoam cup Harley holds out to me.

  “Oh just shut up and take it. I’m not going to dump it on your lap, you big baby.” She rolls her eyes.

  I finally grab the cup from her hand and take a sip while Harley sits down next to me on the bench, crossing one long, gorgeous bare leg in the sexy-as-hell dress she’s wearing to rest her head on my shoulder. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders and tugging her closer to me, I take a sip of my coffee and enjoy the view and the woman sitting next to me.

  “This place almost makes me want to leave civilization and move to a ranch out in the middle of Montana. It’s so quiet and beautiful here. I never knew how much I wanted to live on a pumpkin farm until I spent a day on a pumpkin farm.”

  I smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Harley’s head, while we sit on the bench and look out at the view of the mountains in front of us as the sun starts to set.

  As luck would have it, I needed to pick up a new otter The Backyard is rescuing from a shut-down sanctuary in Montana the same week my friend Baker married his girlfriend Ember at the family pumpkin farm she grew up on. It was a nice, short ceremony overlooking the mountains in the distance, and now, everyone is taking a breather after dinner before the dancing and partying starts under the tents a little ways back behind us.

  “You want to give up all our animals back home to run a pumpkin farm?” I ask Harley, when she pulls her head up to look at me.

  “Have you seen the splendor and the beauty that is Hastings Pumpkin Farm?”

  While the fifty-acre farm in the tiny town of White Timber, Montana nestled seven miles from the mountains is stunning, I’m pretty sure she’s talking about the twenty food trucks lining the entire driveway of the farm.

  Ember’s brother Clint, who owns and runs Hastings Pumpkin Farm and lives here with his wife Brooklyn and their three kids, ordered the food trucks for Ember and Baker’s wedding—having every variety of food items you could imagine from tacos to donuts—to serve as dinner for the reception. Guests got to eat whatever they wanted and as much as they wanted from any truck and can continue to do so until the wedding reception ends. Harley has taken this to heart and finally stopped eating long enough to grab me some coffee from one of the trucks.

  “You know the food trucks don’t come with the farm, right?” I laugh, taking another sip of my coffee.

  “Yeah, you’re right. And I’d miss the otters and Dik-Dik.” Harley sighs.

  “Stop being difficult, Ron Jeremy! You only have to wear the tuxedo jacket until we cut the cake!”

  Harley and I pause in our discussion when Baker smiles and waves at us as he runs by. He’s holding a tiny black tuxedo coat in his hand, chasing a hedgehog waddling by in a pair of tiny black tuxedo pants and a tiny white dress shirt with frills down the buttons.

  “Was that hedgehog wearing cuff links?” I muse after they pass.

  “And I thought you were weird with your otters.” Harley shakes her head as I push up from the bench, hold my hand out for her, and pull her up with me.

  “Yeah, at least I don’t have an entire closet of clothes for the otters.”

  Harley takes the coffee out of my hands and sets it down on the bench before wrapping her arms around my shoulders. I slide my hands around her waist, and I love that even though there are a hundred people over in the tent and wandering around the front yard by the food trucks, it feels like we’re the only two people here.

  “Are you sure you’re happy back home… with me and the otters?”

  It’s something I constantly ask her, and something she surprisingly hasn’t gotten annoyed with me asking yet. I refuse to screw anything up with her again, and making sure she’s happy and well taken care if is the only way I know how to show her that.

  “You mean with you, the otters, a dik-dik, goats, alpacas, cows, horses, chickens, hens, dogs, cats, and miniature horses?” She smiles.

  “You forgot rabbits. God, and Bunnyoncé was finally starting to like you.” I playfully roll my eyes at her.

  The Backyard officially opened for business a month after the fiasco at my dad’s house. We’ve already rescued fifty more animals since then, successfully adopted out forty others, and our programs for special needs children and military veterans continue to grow and get better and better. Thanks to some media attention we regularly get about our programs, the donations to keep the sanctuary up and running for many, many years to come continue to pour in on a daily basis. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m getting to experience it with the only woman who ever made me want to stop being a douchebag.

  Harley grabs my face in her hands and looks at me seriously.

  “I’m happy,” she tells me. “I love that you always ask me, but you don’t have to. Believe me; I’ll tell you when you piss me off.”

  We both laugh and share a quick kiss, when my phone chimes in my back pocket. Keeping one arm securely around Harley’s waist, I pull my phone out with the other, checking it to make sure there isn’t an emergency back home.

  Laughing when I see the text I just got, I turn my phone around to show her.

  “Awww, look at that. Your dad took a selfie outside of Chris’s cage.” She smiles when I put the phone back in my pocket and wrap my arm around her again. “That diet really has paid off. Chris is looking quite slim in photos.”

  After my dad’s injuries healed and he stopped shaking every time he heard a squeak, we started working on our relationship and communicating like we should have a long time ago. He apologized for being a shitty father, and I apologized for taking so long to give him a second chance. He still won’t go anywhere near the otters if they aren’t secured behind a door or a cage, but we’re getting there. Baby steps.

  “Pull your phone back out and ask him if he got Nanci the red roses or the pink roses,” Harley tells me, making me dry heave a little in my mouth.

  “We are not discussing the date my father and Nanci are on tonight, or any other night,” I remind her, which just makes her laugh at my misery.

  “Come on! I think it’s adorable they finally realized all that arguing they’ve done for forty years was actually foreplay.”

  I gag audibly this time, and Harley laughs harder.

  “Well, I think it’s adorable you’ve been giving my dad dating advice,” I tell her when I stop wanting to throw up in my mouth, which makes her roll her eyes.

  “Whatever. I’m owning my softness now.”

  “Should I leave this on the gift table or just hand it right to Baker and Ember? I don’t know the protocol with these sorts of things.”

  Harley and I look over to see Charlie walking toward us, and Harley groans in my arms. When her dad and brother found out we were making a trip to Montana, they asked to tag along, since they’ve never been here before. We left a few days early, and we’ve actually had a good time seeing the sights and hanging out. And now that Davidson has started to grow up a little more and is pulling his weight with Claws and Effect, Harley has been able to relax and take more time for herself. I’m happy to say she is now a fellow weekly facial addict.

  “No. Absolutely not. I told you to leave that thing in the trunk, Dad.” Harley sighs, looking back up at me. “Why did we let him come with us again?”

  “Because when your dad and brother offered to keep an eye on Ottert De Niro back at the hotel so we didn’t have t
o bring him with us to the wedding, your dad almost murdered your brother, and for your brother’s safety, we needed to remove your father from the hotel premises,” I remind her.

  “That little shit I fathered wouldn’t get out of the Jacuzzi tub in the room and give me a chance to swim with Ottert!” Charlie complains, letting out an annoyed sigh before going back to his original subject. “Anyway, you failed to mention these people had hedgehogs and they were animal lovers. They deserve a wedding party box on their big day. Seriously. Gift table or hand it right to them?”

  “How about douse it in gasoline and light it on fire?” Harley suggests.

  Charlie gasps, holding the box filled with dead frogs dressed in their best wedding attire tighter to his chest.

  “You’re both little shits!”

  With that, Charlie turns and stomps away and hopefully back to the car to put the frog box back in our trunk before Harley stops having a good time at this wedding.

  “Mia! Do not touch those nicely dressed people when you have chocolate all over your hands!”

  Brooklyn, Baker’s new sister-in-law, gives us a worried look as she races toward us, chasing after a little girl who has chocolate smeared over every inch of her face, hands, and arms. Harley and I quickly dodge out of the way of the little girl right as Brooklyn gets to her and snatches her up in her arms.

  “Sorry! She’s a slippery, messy little sucker,” Brooklyn apologizes with a laugh. “I tell them every damn time not to put a chocolate fountain anywhere near the vicinity of this child, but does anyone listen?”

  Brooklyn apologizes to us again and then walks away, carrying a giggling, chocolate-covered Mia back to the other guests. We watch the woman deliver Mia to her husband Clint when she gets under the tent. The two of them grab napkins from the table and start wiping her off, sharing a kiss over the little girl’s head.

  “Do you want one of those?” Harley suddenly asks quietly after a few minutes.

  “A pretty brunette with three kids and a big, bad ass cowboy for a husband who can rope cattle and could easily kick my ass without breaking a sweat?”

  Harley laughs, swatting my chest again while I continue holding her securely in my arms. The music starts playing from under the tent, and I start slowly swaying her from side to side.

  “No! Kids. Do you want kids? We’ve never talked about that before,” Harley says.

  “I mean, I never thought about having kids. I don’t know. Do you want kids? If you want them, we can have them. We can have a hundred of them if you want them.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am serious. Have you forgotten I inked your name on my arm? I’m serious until the day I die. Or until someone chops my hand off. Whatever you want, I’m in,” I tell her.

  I seriously don’t know if I want kids, but I know I can handle whatever life throws at me with my lucky charm by my side.

  The sun has set, and the white twinkle lights that have been strung around and under the tent, and the lanterns with candles in them that have been sprinkled all over the property, give me enough light to see the stunning woman in my arms and all the thoughts going through her mind before she finally gets them in order and replies to me.

  “I like other people’s kids.”

  I nod.

  “Other people’s kids are cool. You can give them back when they get too annoying,” I add.

  “You can’t do that with your own kids.” She shrugs.

  “They do frown on that.”

  She’s quiet for another minute before she lets out a breath and smiles up at me.

  “I am really, really happy with just you and our menagerie of animals. I don’t need anything else to make me happy. Just you and my dik-dik.”

  Because I can’t help myself, I suggestively gyrate my hips against her. “You mean me, and my great big dick-dick.”

  “You’re so annoying.” Harley laughs, and I dip my head and give her a kiss.

  “Just think, if we ever regret not having kids, we’ll just have your brother over to remind us why we didn’t.”

  “That’s true. We do have partial custody of him. One weekend a month and every other Wednesday.” She nods as we split apart, and I grab the fingers of one of her hands, bringing it up to my mouth as we make our way toward the tents.

  “I love you, Harley Blake. I’m so glad you hit on me first at McCallahan’s five and half years ago,” I tell her, smiling as I press my lips against the top of her hand, and she rolls her eyes at me.

  “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” she asks as I swing our joined hands between us and we walk across the yard to join the party.

  “Nope. Not until you admit it.”

  “Guess you’re… otterly out of luck.” She smiles. “It must be so hard to fail so otterly. Tell me, do you feel otterly useless during a time like this?”

  “Are you finished?”

  Harley thinks about it for a minute before shrugging.

  “Yep. I’m out of puns now.”

  Letting go of her hand, I quickly scoop Harley up in my arms and spin her around, making her shriek and smack my shoulder before she presses her lips to mine. I slowly lower her feet back to the ground, deepening the kiss and letting her know without words how much she means to me.

  How much she’ll always mean to me.

  And how thankful I’ll always be that this firecracker of a woman otterly scorched me in a police station all those years and another lifetime ago.

  The En— Just kidding. Bonus Scenes ahead!

  BONUS ONE

  McCallahan’s… That Night, All Those Years Ago

  Hour 1

  “Is this seat taken?”

  “Not as long as you can sit there and keep your mouth shut. It’s the bottom of the ninth, and the Dodgers are down by one. They need two more runs to make it into the playoffs.”

  “The umps have been screwing them all night. My name’s Dax.”

  “Son of a bitch, that wasn’t a strike! Are you blind? Oh, yeah, um… Harley.”

  “Can I get you—”

  “Look, man. I’m just here to have a drink or two, and watch the rest of the game in peace. I can buy my own drinks, as you can see.”

  “All right then. Yo, Teddy! Can I get whatever you have on draft, and nothing for the woman sitting next to me, because she can buy her own drinks.”

  “Was that necessary?”

  “Just making sure we have a witness to our established boundaries.”

  “You can be as charming as you want, but let’s get something straight. You’re not my type. I like my men a little less pretty than me, with a lot more facial hair, and maybe a few tattoos, possibly some deep, dark past that makes him broody.”

  “Shhh, I’m trying to watch the game and have a drink or two in peace, God. Also, I’ve got a lot of money riding on the Dodgers, so they need to pull through.”

  Hour 2

  “Jesus, your dad sucks.”

  “I know, right? Maybe someday I’ll stop being such a pussy, and do what I actually want with my life. I doubt it, but who knows.”

  “You would be great with animals. Screw him. Honestly, I don’t even like being a cop. I’m just doing it because my dad was a cop, and I know it makes him proud.”

  “God, we both suck.”

  “I’ll drink to that. Hey, Teddy! Another round please. Put it on his tab.”

  “Look at you, driving right through that boundary.”

  “Just shut up and buy me another drink.”

  Hour 3

  “God, you smell really good.”

  “I thought you said I wasn’t your type.”

  “You’re not. I can still appreciate how masculine you smell.”

  “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I might have to kiss you.”

  “Looking at you like what?”

  “Like… you’re not sure whether or not you want to punch me in the face or straddle my lap. My vote is for the latter, by the way.”

 
“It’s a conundrum I’ve found myself in since you sat down.”

  “You should kiss me just to be sure. You know, for science.”

  “Not gonna happen. You’re still too pretty for me. Can you even grow facial hair?”

  Hour 4

  “I’m still finding it hard to believe a woman as beautiful and spunky as yourself was sitting all alone at a bar on a Friday night when I got here.”

  “Oh, shit. Shit! I wasn’t supposed to be alone. I had a date! Oh my God, I can’t believe I forgot about my date with…”

  “With?”

  “Give me a second! It started with a J…. Jude, maybe? Pretty sure it was Jude. Shit! I was supposed to meet him at the restaurant next door hours ago.”

  “Well, this just got interesting!”

  “And it just ended. I have to call and apologize to…”

  “Jude.”

  “Right! Jude, and I start a new job tomorrow. I need to be up super early to make a good impression.”

  “Will I see you again, Harley, who still refuses to give me her number or last name?”

  “If you’re lucky.”

  “I did win an obscene amount of money on the Dodgers tonight, when they were in the toilet before I sat down next to you. You might just be my lucky charm.”

  BONUS TWO

  Otterly Ridiculous Fucking

  Ridiculous Fucking 1

  “Why are you waddling back to bed with what looks like an entire roll of toilet paper shoved in your underwear?”

  “This is what happens when we decide not to use condoms anymore.”

  “And this was definitely not part of the fantasy. Tell me more. I’m intrigued.”

  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a slow leak of semen coming out of you? It’s not fun. It’s wet, and squishy, and frankly, it ruins a perfectly good, clean pair of underwear. Ain’t nobody got time for that.”

  “This did not come up in any of my Google searches.”

  “Stop laughing or I’m gonna squirt a tablespoon of lukewarm gravy into your boxers, right around your taint, and see how you like it.”