I glance at Reed who smiles at me and tips his chin.
“I would love that!” I give Paige my friendliest smile as she takes my free hand. Reed squeezes my other fingers between his and then lets them slip from his so that Paige can tug me away in the direction of the pens.
One hour later, I have stroked, fed, petted, cuddled, kissed, and rubbed every fuzzy tummy of every animal that is part of the petting zoo. I’ve been the only adult in there the entire time with all the kids, and I couldn’t care less. I’ve had an awesome time.
“It feels funny.” Paige wrinkles her little button nose as she holds her hand out to Freddy the goat.
“You’re doing such a great job.”
“He’s hungry.” She giggles as he snuffles in her hand for more pellets.
“Having fun, Mrs. Doolittle?”
I turn to the familiar deep voice and lock eyes with Reed, who is leaning on his forearms on the side of the pen. He gives me a dazzling smile that makes me forget where I am for a second, until Freddy nuzzles at the frill on the front of my pink top, trying to nibble it.
“Hey, you.” I laugh as I place my palm against his nose and steer him away. “Are you going to come in and stroke him?” I look back at Reed questioningly.
“I thoughthewas a girl?” Reed says as he comes in through the gate.
“No. Sam said he has a willy,” Paige says matter-of-factly, dipping her head toward the grass. “It’s furry. Look!” She points to between Freddy’s back legs.
“Oh, yeah, a little furry one. Well spotted, birthday girl.”
Paige grins at my praise and then jumps to her feet. “I’m going to go and tell Uncle Stu that I found Freddy’s willy.”
I laugh as she leaves the pen and races across the grass toward Stuart.
“Aww, it’s so sweet.” I look back at Freddy.
“A furry willy?”
“What? No!” I groan at the smirk on Reed’s face.
“Ugh, you’re such a jerk sometimes,” I say with a smile, unable to stop it planting itself on my face like a sign. A great big neon one that tells Reed I find him amusing.
Sometimes.
God, he’s going to love this.
I shake my head and sigh as I stroke the smooth horns on Freddy’s head.
“Do not make a horn rubbing joke.” I arch a brow at Reed.
His eyes crease up beneath his dark brows. “I never said a word.”
His eyes are glittering, the way they do when he’s amused. “You didn’t need to. I’m learning a lot about you since I moved in. What have you been doing, anyway? While I’ve been playing with the kids?”
He casts his gaze over the lawn and tilts his chin toward an older man near the gift table. “See him? That’s Fred Yates, New York’s top defense attorney. And that”—he looks toward a woman with short brown hair around my mom’s age—“is Hilda Davenport, head of the board who runs three of the biggest hospitals in the city.”
“And here was me thinking we were just coming to celebrate and eat cake. Is this what all kids’ parties are like now? A chance for the parents to network with business associates?”
Reed looks back at me, pushing a hand back through his hair. It shines in the bright sunshine. “Nina made over their houses for them. It’s just a coincidence they live in the same neighborhood.”
“A lucky coincidence if you’re running for mayor.” I bump shoulders with him with a smile, then stand, calling over to Sam, the guy in charge of the animals.
“Hey, Sam? Do you have any feed left?”
“Sure.” He holds up a bag in his hand and brings some over to me, depositing it into my palm.