“What happened?"
"This happened." He shifted his arms to reveal a bundle of tiny, knobby joints and fluffy patches of black and white.
A newborn goat.
"Oh, my goodness." She knelt behind him, peering over his shoulder. "Surely not Marigold?"
"I told you so," he said irritably.
As if she'd be intimidated by gruff words from a man cradling a newborn goat in his arms. She'd always known he had a capacity for gentleness.
I told you so, too.
She reached to stroke the little goat's fur.
Gabriel's shoulder muscle flinched in annoyance. "My shirt was ruined, I'll have you know. Completely unsalvageable. And then this runtish little thing wouldn't stop shivering."
"Would it help if I told you that I've never found you so wildly attractive as I do in this moment?"
"No.”