Page 2 of Horned to be Wild (Harmony Glen #7)

CHAPTER TWO

T orin sat on his porch staring into the trees, but the peace he usually found in the quiet woods eluded him tonight.

The new resident of the cottage had arrived.

He’d heard a car on the lane earlier that afternoon and his heart had sunk.

Lila . He knew Eleanor’s niece had inherited the property, but since she’d never bothered to visit Eleanor while she was alive, he’d hoped she wouldn’t claim the cottage.

He wasn’t happy about having a stranger living so close to him.

Eleanor had been one of the few humans who didn’t seem intimidated by his appearance.

The residents of Harmony Glen tried to welcome everyone, but he’d seen the nervous glances at his horns and his gruff demeanor hadn’t helped.

Eleanor had also been the only person who had ever been comfortable with his silence.

She’d been a rare woman, and he’d been truly sorry when she left for the nursing home.

However since then he’d learned to appreciate having the forest to himself.

He hadn’t been able to resist peeking at his new neighbor as she bustled around the cottage.

He hadn’t been able to make out much more than a wild mass of brown curls pulled back from a round, pretty face.

But then she’d stepped out onto the back porch.

Denim shorts and a cutoff t-shirt hugged curves that made his mouth go dry, and even from the edge of the woods he’d been able to catch her sweet, delectable scent.

When her big brown eyes met his, he’d felt an inexplicable shock, as if something had reached out and grabbed his tail.

It had taken all of his willpower to force himself to back away.

“What’s the matter with you, Mabel?” he growled, looking down at the small goat when she butted her head against his side.

She gave a quiet bleat, looking up at him with reproachful eyes, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault I’m in a bad mood.”

He stroked her soft fur and she leaned happily against his side.

The small white goat had wandered out of the woods almost a year ago and attached herself to him, seemingly undeterred by his size or his glare.

He hadn’t wanted to take on the responsibility for another living being, but she’d refused to leave and he’d grown attached to her.

Even though she attracted trouble like a magnet, her presence had eased the loneliness that he refused to acknowledge.

“I don’t have to have anything to do with her,” he told Mabel, ignoring the memory of his new neighbor’s curvaceous body and big dark eyes.

It should be easy enough. He only used the dirt track running past her cottage when he made his weekly deliveries, and he could stay in the deeper woods away from the main road.

Mabel gave him a disbelieving look, and he sighed and scratched between her horns.

“She probably won’t stay long anyway.” Eleanor had told him she was an artist who lived in New York, and he couldn’t imagine a city girl being happy in a quiet little place like Harmony Glen. “I’ll just avoid her until she gets bored and leaves.”

Mabel gave another skeptical bleat and he scowled at her before rising to his feet. It was pointless to sit here brooding about his new neighbor. He had a lot of work lined up for tomorrow so he might as well have an early night.

Unfortunately, the early night didn’t work out as planned.

He spent half the night tossing and turning and the other half having disturbingly explicit dreams about the curvy little human.

He woke up hard and aching. He briefly considered trying to relieve the ache, but he didn’t want to give in to his inexplicable attraction to her.

Instead he stomped down the stairs, determined to ignore his unruly body.

The cold shower he took helped somewhat, and he hoped that chopping a cord of wood would finish the job. But he ended up pacing his workshop instead, the familiar scent of sawdust and pine failing to soothe his agitation.

He finally decided to take a walk and check on the fish traps in the lower stream. Since he knew from bitter experience that it wasn’t a good idea to leave Mabel unsupervised, especially since she’d discovered the garden behind the cottage was still producing, he went to fetch her from her pen.

“Come along, brat. We have work to do.”

Normally she would trot along happily after him, but today she gave him what could only be described as a challenging look, then bleated tauntingly and darted past him and into the woods.

“Mabel!” he growled. “Get back here!”

His words fell on deaf ears. The small white goat had already disappeared amongst the trees, leaving a trail of nibbled leaves in her wake. He sighed and went after her, muttering curses under his breath.

This wasn’t the first time Mabel had made a break for it, although she usually only did it when he’d left her alone. She seemed to consider the entire forest her personal playground, and she had a particular fondness for gardens she wasn’t supposed to enter.

He tracked her easily through the woods, following the trail of destruction. The path was heading in exactly the direction he feared—towards Eleanor’s cottage. Towards the tempting little female.

He hesitated when he reached the edge of the forest, reluctant to leave the shadows, but then he spotted Mabel brazenly munching on one of the rosebushes in the overgrown garden. Eleanor had loved those heritage roses, and apparently his goat did as well.

“Come here,” he hissed.

She flicked a glance in his direction, then went back to her feast. Fuck. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the woods. At least the new resident was nowhere in sight.

He didn’t realize he was wrong until he was standing next to the porch.

The overgrown vines had concealed the fact that she was on the porch, kneeling over what looked like an array of art supplies.

Faded denim shorts were pulled tight across the most delectable ass he’d ever seen—plump and round and the perfect size for his big hands.

His body immediately responded to the tempting sight, and he was so distracted that he didn’t notice that Mabel had turned until the small goat lowered her head and charged.

His reflexes were fast, but she managed to clip his legs before he could step out of the way and he stumbled—directly towards his tempting little human.

He tried to brace himself, to stop his momentum, but his hooves slipped on the damp grass, and he was moving too fast to halt.

With an outraged roar, he fell directly on top of her.

Fuck.

She’d started to turn when he roared and he had a confused glimpse of startled dark eyes and a soft, lush mouth, before he landed on her.

He managed to catch himself enough not to crush her, but her lush curves pillowed his body and his erection was pressed against her soft stomach.

Her intoxicating scent filled his head as he rolled quickly to one side, trying to conceal his reaction to her.

She gave him a dazed look, and then her eyes focused on his horns.

He braced himself for her fear, but instead she stared at them in delight.

“Are you okay?” he growled, and she smiled at him. She had dimples. Why did she have to have dimples?

“I’m fine. Are you okay?”

He managed to nod and climb to his feet.

He was overwhelmingly conscious of his erection but when he tried to adjust himself so that it wasn’t so noticeable, he only succeeded in drawing her attention to his unfortunate state.

Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink, but she looked more intrigued than appalled and his cock jerked against his zipper.

“I’m sorry about my goat. I don’t know what got into her,” he added, then winced when the goat in question trotted up and stood at his feet, looking up at them with a distinctly innocent expression.

“Is she yours?” she asked, her gaze going from Mabel to the ruts in the grass where he’d slipped.

“I’m afraid so,” he said, checking his little human for damage.

To his relief, she didn’t seem to be hurt, but she was still sprawled on the porch.

He reached down to help her up and the minute their hands touched, he felt the same electric shock he’d experienced the previous day when their eyes met.

The unexpected jolt shocked him enough that he pulled harder than he intended and she ended up pressed against him once more.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks even pinker as she pulled free.

“My fault,” he muttered and shoved his hand in his pocket, still hoping to hide his erection.

She gave him another shy smile and he realized that Mabel was nibbling on the hem of her shorts.

“Stop that, brat,” he growled, but his little human only laughed.

“She’s really quite adorable.”

She was, but she was also an unholy terror who was now staring up at him with a look of complete innocence. He grabbed her collar and lifted her into his arms before she could cause any more trouble.

“I’m Torin,” he added reluctantly. “I’m afraid Mabel has taken advantage of the garden since Eleanor moved away.”

“I’m Lila. I’m Eleanor’s great niece.”

“Yes, she talked about you,” he admitted.

“She mentioned you several times as well. In her journal,” she added.

“I doubt it was complimentary,” he said dryly, remembering some of their conversations.

Her lips twitched and dimples appeared in her cheeks again. “Oh, no. She only said nice things. I believe ‘big brute’ and ‘stubborn ox’ were among them.”

He couldn’t quite suppress a smile.

“Mabel, huh?” she continued, her tone as light as if chatting with enormous horned strangers—with equally enormous erections—was an everyday occurrence. There was a note of amusement in her voice that completely disarmed him.

“She can be… difficult,” he managed, the words stiff and awkward.

“I can see that.” She reached out and gently scratched between Mabel’s small horns. The traitorous goat immediately leaned into her touch, eyes half-closing in pleasure. He suspected he would have done the same. “She’s gorgeous.”

Mabel bleated softly, as if agreeing with the compliment.

He hadn’t intended this to happen. He’d intended to keep his distance. Instead, he was standing in her garden with her sweet scent filling his head while his damn erection showed no signs of disappearing, and she was smiling at him as if he were any ordinary neighbor.

“She won’t bother you again,” he muttered, suddenly desperate to retreat. The reluctant goat squirmed in his arms as he moved away, trying to twist around to look at Lila.

“She’s welcome any time,” she called after him. “As is her owner.”

He froze mid-step. Was she really… inviting him back? He didn’t turn, couldn’t bear to see if she was mocking him.

All he could manage was a non-committal grunt but as he reached the edge of the woods, he couldn’t help glancing back.

He expected her to be scowling at his rudeness but she was still smiling at him, no sign of offense on her face.

The sun caught the copper strands in her dark hair, setting it ablaze with color.

She raised a hand in a small wave, and that simple gesture sent a bolt of need through his aching shaft.

Without returning her salute, he stepped into the shadows and disappeared amongst the trees, but he couldn’t escape the memory of her smiling face or her soft curves beneath him.

He returned Mabel to her pen, then absentmindedly stroked her head as she munched contentedly on fresh hay, apparently satisfied with her morning’s adventure.

“Troublemaker,” he muttered, but there was no heat in the accusation.

He couldn’t decide if he was grateful that they’d passed the awkward introduction stage or regretful that he was now so keenly aware of her presence. He wanted more cheerful smiles and teasing conversations, more of her soft curves, and sweet scent, and he knew it was impossible.

She’s a city girl , he reminded himself. She won’t be here for long.

But even that thought wasn’t enough to take away the memory of her smile.