Marcus chuckled as I swallowed carefully around the lump in my throat. “You can do it, Adrienne. Once the foal’s out, you’ll forget all about this part.”
Was he fucking high? How did anyone forget about this part of a horse birth?
Glancing at Santana, I noticed she was close to the guy doing all of the work, almost like she was ready to take over for him. Brave girl!
“Santana, help me out,” he barked, and almost instantly, she was leaning over him, following his directions on what he needed her to do.
Something made me look at Remy as he stood outside the stall, and I saw how tense he was as he watched them.
Just as Santana did what she was told to do next, which meant her chest was touching the guy’s head, a muscle began ticking in Remy’s jaw, and his hands tightened into fists.
“Is there something going on between Remy and Santana?” I whispered to Marcus, my eyes flicking between the birth and Remy.
To be honest, there was a lot to keep track of. The foal, the big old horse vagina, Santana helping out, the handsome black guy with his arm in a horse cooter helping get the foal out, Remy, and how Marcus felt pressed against me. That last bit reminded me of his arm, the one that’d had to go inside a horse to help her baby.
Seeing how necessary it was now and knowing he’d have showered since I could cope with that… so long as I didn’t think about it. I wasn’t being immature—it was something new that I’d never come across before and it kind of skeezed me out. So long as I didn’t scream and yell “horse vag cooties,” I was being an adult who faced grossed out situations.
“I think he wants there to be,” Marcus said quietly, and I kind of liked him that little bit more at that moment. See, he was engaging with me about something unrelated to the birth, plus he was letting me into his world a little bit. What woman didn’t want that? “I just don’t think he knows how to go about it.”
Santana’s breasts were practically acting as earmuffs for the guy at that moment, and just as I looked back at Remy, he yelled, “Jay, swap with me.”
The guy who was pulling on the foal, the muscles bulging in his arms with the strength he was using, ducked his head to see under Santana’s right booby. “Are you serious?”
Before Remy could answer, Gibraltar’s stomach tensed, and Jay gave one last tug, freeing the baby from its momma as it slid to the floor.
With his arms still around me, Marcus walked us forward until we were only feet away from the newbo— “What is that?”
I’d expected a mini horse, but all I could see was something out of a sci-fi movie. It was like there was a giant white cocoon with something wriggling around inside it. Obviously I could make out a head, feet, and legs, but it didn’t look anything like I’d expected.
“The foal’s still in the sac, sweetheart. Give it a second, and it’ll be out,” Marcus murmured, his hand stroking my side like he was trying to settle me down.
For the next five minutes, I witnessed a lot of grossness. Some of it I could handle, others I had to hold back the gag and heave that wanted to burst out of me. But after it was all over, a tiny horse lay on the straw, its legs looking way too long for its body.
Marcus had left me to go and check on it and Gibraltar, leaving me standing next to Remy as the baby tried to get up onto its feet at Santana’s urging. It was the first steps towards its mother, the momma-baby first meet, that broke me, and I felt tears trail slowly down my cheeks.
“That’s beautiful,” I whimpered, pressing my fist to my lips.
“No,” Remy yelled, sounding panicked. “No, no. Don’t do that.” I turned to see him pointing at my face.
A noise coming from the stall next to me snagged my attention away from him, and I took in Gibraltar, nuzzling her baby as it wobbled like a drunk as it fed from her, making the tears flow faster.
“Marcus,” Remy barked, making me jump. “She’s leaking. Make it stop.”
Santana, who was at the sink washing up, started giggling, then it morphed into full-blown laughter, getting a scowl from Remy that softened when he realized who it was that was laughing. Even that triggered my tears.
Unrequited love/a fight for love/wanting but too scared to get… all of those romance tropes seemed applicable to his situation, and what woman didn’t want to witness that firsthand, and then see the happily ever after that followed it?
“I’m sorry,” I sniffled, wiping under my eyes. “I’m not normally a crier, but that was just too cute.” I pointed at Gibraltar and then saw her curled up on the straw with her baby. “Oh, hell, get me away from it. It’s triggering me.”