I tip my head back and laugh loud. “Who do I call?”
The sight of Elliot Miles running down the pathway with a bunch of ducks chasing him is simply too much and I nearly fall over as I laugh hard.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Kathryn,” he yells, and he kicks out to try and move them and they squawk louder. “Fuck off, ducks!”
Chapter 17
“Hello Brianna,” Elliot barks as he paces back and forth. “We have a problem.”
I listen as I sit on a stool at the kitchen countertop.
“Ducks. That’s what.” He listens. “Well, they attacked me.” He listens for a moment. “Feral ducks.”
My face breaks into a broad smile. After fifteen minutes of running around like a maniac, Elliot closed the doors and the ducks have retreated back to their lake.
Elliot frowns as he listens. “No. What clause, I never agreed to any such clause.” His horrified eyes meet mine.
“What?” I mouth.
He shakes his head. “Well . . . I don’t want them.”
He listens again.
“Since when would the sale of a house have animals in the contract? That’s preposterous.” He walks to the window and peers out over the field. “A goat?” he snaps. His eyes meet mine and I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. “A fucking what?” he explodes. “A pony and a pig? No way. Not on your life. Come and take them away. Right. Now.”
He shakes his head in disgust.
“Who the hell do I sell them to?” he fires back. “This isn’t Jack and the Beanstalk, Brianna, you don’t go to fucking market to sell a pig.”
I burst out laughing, Elliot glares at me, and I slap my hand over my mouth.
“What do you mean?” He paces again, looks out the window and down at the paddock, then his eyes meet mine. “Well . . . you better find out.” He listens intently. “Fine.” He hangs up.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Apparently the woman who I bought the house off was eighty-eight and has a menagerie of animals. It was a condition of sale that the new purchaser keeps them on because she’s gone to a retirement community.”
My eyes widen. “Oh.”
“She’s finding out what I can do with them.”
My face falls. “Why?”
“I don’t want farm animals, Kathryn, I’m not Old McFucking Donald.”
“It’s a settling-in period, they’ll calm down.”
“Absolutely not.”
I walk to the back door and look out over the paddocks. The ducks are pecking away at the ground next to the lake. “They’re probably just hungry.”
“For human blood?” He grabs his keys. “I’m telling you now, it won’t be mine. We need to go and find breakfast before I faint.” He takes my hand in his. “Let’s go.”
Two hours later we pull up outside the front of my house. “Thanks.” I smile.
Elliot rolls his lips as he looks at my house, and I know he’s not happy about me going inside to Daniel. “What are you going to do all weekend?” I ask.
“Unpack a million boxes.”
I can help . . . No, play it cool.
“Okay, well, have fun with that.” I smile.
“What are you doing?” he asks as he slides his hand up my thigh; I lean over and kiss his shoulder.