Head Over Hooves: Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild, page 1
Head Over Hooves
Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild
Erin Nicholas
Copyright © 2021 by Erin Nicholas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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ISBN: 978-1-952280-20-7
Editor: Lindsey Faber
Cover photo: Wander Aguiar
Cover design: Najla Qamber, Qamber Designs
The Series
Boys of the Bayou-Gone Wild
Things are going to get wild when the next batch of bayou boys falls in love!
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Otterly Irresistible
Heavy Petting
Flipping Love You
Sealed With A Kiss
Head Over Hooves
Say It Like You Mane It
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Connected series…
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The Hot Cakes Series
Appleby, Iowa
One small Iowa town.
Two rival baking companies.
A three-generation old family feud.
And six guys who are going to be heating up a lot more than the kitchen.
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Sugar Rush (prequel)
Sugarcoated
Forking Around
Making Whoopie
Semi-Sweet On You
Oh, Fudge
Gimme S’more
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
If you love Autre and the Landrys…
About Erin
1
Autre, Louisiana was a little less merry and bright and a lot more crazy and garish. But there was no doubt this was where Drew Ryan was supposed to be.
There was fake snow, lots of red and green and white, an instrumental version of “Santa Clause Is Comin’ To Town” blaring over the loudspeakers, and a giant wooden cutout of a cartoon alligator wearing a red Santa hat and holding a sign that read, “Santa’s Village”.
And if that wasn’t enough to convince him, the elf chasing the eight tiny reindeer with the person-sized candy cane would have.
After all, eight tiny reindeer came right out of the poem ’Twas the Night Before Christmas.
But the poem left out the gorgeous elf in the skimpy red dress, thigh-high black boots with candy cane striped stockings peeking out of the tops, and bright green hair.
It was a good thing she wasn’t working at the North Pole. She’d freeze very important body parts in that dress.
Not that it was hot in Louisiana in December, but Drew appreciated not needing his heavy winter coat right now and definitely appreciated that the elf wasn’t feeling chilly enough to cover up.
The entire scene was the very definition of chaos, and he had no idea what to do. So, he just leaned his arms on the top of the fence that surrounded the barnyard/Santa’s Village—which he assumed was the Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild petting zoo under normal circumstances—and watched.
The “reindeer” were actually baby goats wearing reindeer antlers and the elf was trying to herd them toward the barn using the giant plastic candy cane as a shepherdess hook. But they seemed to think they were playing tag and scattered in eight different directions.
Clearly fed up, she tossed the candy cane and lunged to try to grab one with her bare hands.
She missed.
“You little bastards!” she exclaimed.
Just as the music abruptly shut off.
“Bastards is a bad word.”
The woman turned and Drew looked to his left. There was a little boy standing there eating a red and white snow cone.
A snow cone. In December.
For an Iowa-born-and-raised boy like Drew, that was weird. But at least the red and white was festive.
“Oh, hey, Samuel,” the woman said, pushing her neon green hair back from her face. “Didn’t see you there.”
“I know. You probably wouldn’t have used that word if you did.”
The woman didn’t look entirely convinced of that. “Are you sure it’s a bad word?” she asked him.
He nodded. “Very sure.”
“Maybe not in… elvish.”
“You weren’t speaking in elvish.”
“Do you speak elvish?” she asked.
“Well…”
“Exactly,” she said with a nod. “So what I said sounded bad in English but in elvish I was saying, ‘You guys are so cute!’”
She and Samuel stood there looking at each other for a long moment.
Neither blinked.
“Say ‘have a Merry Christmas’ in elvish,” Samuel finally replied.
“Oh. Um.” She scratched her neck, clearly trying to come up with something.
Drew pushed away from the fence and walked toward the gate that would let him into the main yard of the petting zoo. “I’m going to need your name and date of birth.”
Samuel and the woman both swung to face him.
Drew stepped through the gate and looked at Samuel expectantly.
“What for?” the kid asked.
“For the Rudeness Report I’m filing with Santa, of course.”
“Rudeness Report?” Samuel asked. “What’s that?”
“When a kid is being rude to one of the hard-working elves who are just trying to make Christmas nice and festive and happy for everyone, we file a report with Santa. He doesn’t like his helpers being treated badly.”
Samuel looked him up and down. “What about what she said? Santa is okay with that?”
“You mean when she called the goats cute?” Drew asked. “I don’t understand the problem.”
Drew glanced at the woman. She had her arms crossed and was watching, amused. Samuel looked suspicious.
“Who are you?” Samuel asked.
“Santa’s nephew,” the women interjected before Drew could respond. “He’s here to inspect the village.”
Just then there was a loud crash somewhere behind the little shack with the wide front porch where Drew assumed Santa would sit with the kids.
The elf closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Little bastards,” she muttered as she let it back out.
“They really are cute,” Samuel said.
Drew fought a grin.
Clearly bored with all of this—and not actually buying that he was being written up for anything—Samuel started toward the other end of the petting zoo, but after just a few steps, he stopped and turned back.
“When I call my sister a little bastard later and tell my mom that Rory told me it means cute, we’re all going to be in trouble, you know.”
So, the elf’s name was Rory, huh?
Rory sighed. “Or you could just…not do that.”
“I could.” Samuel took a bite of his snow cone, considering that.
“I can file more than one report,” Drew said.
Samuel nodded. “Yeah, but Santa probably already knows I’m impotent.”
Drew managed to disguise his laugh as a cough at the last minute. Surely the kid meant impertinent, right? “I don’t think that’s the word, man.”
“Do you know my grandma?”
“No.”
“Then I probably know better than you what she calls me.”
Yeah, he definitely meant impertinent.
That kid was destined for the naughty list, Drew decided.
Drew watched the boy disappear around the snow cone stand several yards away. “What are the chances he calls his little sister a bastard and you get in trouble?” Drew asked the elf.
“About eighty-seven percent. That kid is kind of a button pusher.”
Drew chuckled as another crash came from around the back of the Santa shack. “Like the goats?”
“You mean the reindeer?” Her lips twitched.
Just then one of the goat-reindeer came barreling around the corner, his antlers hanging under his chin. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”
Another goat came trotting after the first. He stopped when he saw Rory and gave her a quick, “Behhhh!” Then started toward the snow cone stand.
Drew took a single step to the left and leaned over to scoop the little animal up. The goat bleated again, but Drew held him firmly.
Rory's eyebrows rose. “You're a goat wrangler?”
“Goats, alpacas, even actual reindeer.” He shifted the goat so he could extend one hand. “I'm Drew Ryan.”
“Oh, you're the guy from Iowa. You’re bringing us real reindeer.”
Rory took his hand, and Drew noticed that they both more or less just held on instead of actually shaking.
“I am. You've heard of me.”
“This is obviously a Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild thing, but I’m in charge of putting Santa's Village and all of the activities together,” Rory said. They were still holding hands. “Jordan told me they had a friend who had actual reindeer and he was going to loan us a few. Pretty cool.”
Another goat darted by and Drew reluctantly let go of her to lean over and scoop that animal up as well. They were squirming and Rory immediately led him toward the barn and opened the pen for him. He put the two animals down and closed them inside.
“So you work for the Landrys and the petting zoo?” he asked as they headed back out to the yard.
She shook her head. “No. I—” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Actually, I shouldn't tell you what I do for living. But no, I don't work here. I'm volunteering my time. I think this is a really cool thing they're doing and since it’s the first time, I thought it was a great chance to jump in and get involved.”
He was intrigued.
He knew the petting zoo hadn’t been around for long and that this was the first time they’d had a big holiday event. But he didn’t care about Santa’s Village. He was intrigued by Rory.
And he really shouldn’t be. Any woman who was into sweet things like baby goats in reindeer antlers and making children’s holiday wishes come true and cartoon alligators wearing Santa hats was not what he was looking for. He could have all of that back in Iowa. Well, maybe not the alligator. There weren’t a lot of those that far north. But a cow in a reindeer hat? Or a pig? Sure, definitely.
And he didn’t want sweet and cute. He was here for… not that.
The other six goats were still darting around the yard and he managed to reach out and snag another one. “Why don’t you want me to know what you do for living?” he asked as he carried it to the pen and lifted it over the gate to set it inside with its friends.
She narrowed her eyes. “Because my hair is green.”
Drew chuckled. Even though he wasn't sure what they were talking about. “Okay.”
“It wasn't supposed to turn green. I mean, it's not even Christmas green.”
He nodded. “More of a…”
“Neon lime green,” she filled in. She laughed. “You can say it. I have a mirror.”
Drew grinned. “It's still festive.”
“How very polite of you to find such a nice word to use. Yeah, this hair is exactly why I should not tell you that I own the hair salon in town and am in charge of making other people's hair look good.”
He laughed again. “Yeah, you probably shouldn't tell me that.”
She nodded, smiling widely.
He pulled his gaze away from that smile and leaned over as another goat darted by. He grabbed it and carried it to the pen as well.
Rory scooped one up as well and put it in the pen with the others.
He was impressed by how easily she handled the animal. He also appreciated the way handling the goat made the short skirt of her elf dress pull up on her thighs. Her very nice thighs.
Now see if those were attached to a just-here-for-a-good-time girl who wasn’t into making Christmas magical for a sweet little town, he’d be a very happy guy.
“I suppose we should tell Jordan that you're here,” Rory said.
“Oh, is Jordan around?”
“She's just over with all the people on the other end of the petting zoo. Where the snow cones and face painting and story time is going on today. We’re trying to keep things festive in the zoo while also keeping this area open so we—I”—She sighed—“can get it all set up.”
Don’t react to that sigh. Don’t offer to help. You do not need to be Santa’s handyman.
Drew shook his head. “I didn't notice any other people. Except for the kid.”
Rory put a hand on her hip and tipped her head. “Because of the dress, right?”
Without thinking about doing it—or specifically why he shouldn’t do it—Drew let his gaze travel over her from the top of her neon green head to the tips of her black leather boots. It was a good dress. And the body inside it was giving him a few thoughts about unwrapping things and yes, activities that might land him on the naughty list.
He cleared his throat. “What about the dress?”
“It’s maybe the reason you didn't notice there were other people around?”
“I don't know what you're insinuating,” he said with mock insult.
She laughed and plucked the front of the dress away from her breasts. “This dress is supposed to be two sizes bigger than it is.”
She sighed again as she let go of the fabric and the dress went back to clinging affectionately to those breasts. Understandably.
“It’s not appropriate for wearing here with kids around,” she said. “Or really with anyone around. Which I realized after I put it on in the back stall of the barn and didn’t have a choice. And then Lionel Benoit, Jordan’s grandpa, about tripped and fell, and Nancy Howell gave me one of her looks. It’s just one more way I'm blowing this whole Santa's Village thing.”
Drew decided not to comment on the fact that he was definitely pro tiny dress. “What do you mean, you're blowing this whole thing?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I just really want this to go well. I only moved here three years ago and I really want to fit into the community. I want them to know that I love being here, and I want to be a part of the town, and this is the first time I've headed up a big project. And nothing is going right.”
Drew felt a very familiar urge rise up in his chest, but he fought it. Don't worry, I'll help. We'll fix this. It will all be okay. All of that was right on the tip of his tongue.
That was who he was. Always. The quintessential good guy. The guy who would be putting together Santa's Village if he was back home in Appleby, Iowa at this moment and they actually needed a Santa's Village.
And it was exactly that reputation that he was trying to forget about for the week or so that he planned to spend in Louisiana. He just wanted to let loose and have fun. The only thing he wanted to be responsible about was condom use.
So, his first instinct to jump in and help this woman set up a sweet Christmas village for the children of a new small town seemed like exactly the kind of thing he should be resisting.
“Just three more to go?” he asked as another goat got close enough for him to grab.
She looked around. “Yep.” She lunged for one, but she didn’t even touch fur as he scampered away.
She did, however, give Drew a flash of red panties under the very short skirt. He wondered if those had come with the dress or if she’d already had them.
Then told himself firmly to stop wondering about her.
She’s not the one, bro. No sweethearts. You can have a dozen of those back home. Focus.
He needed to grab some names from Santa’s naughty list. He wondered if Samuel could hook him up with that. Seemed the kid was well acquainted with that particular spreadsheet.
Drew stuck his leg out and got one goat nudged up against the side of the barn. Rory quickly picked the animal up and they headed for the pen.
“And now that we have real reindeer, we can take these antlers off.” She undid the antlers from the goat she held before setting her down. “I really thought those were going to work.” She held the antlers up, turning them back and forth.
He looked at the antlers on the goat he was holding in one arm. “Did you make these?”
She nodded. “I did a DIY tutorial on YouTube.”
Good guess, Drew thought dryly. See, that was really sweet. She was a crafter. On top of being a Christmas elf volunteer. She'd even tried to die her hair for the occasion. Okay, so it hadn't turned out. It was still an indication of how seriously she took the small-town event.
He knew all about small-town events. Appleby wasn’t any bigger than Autre. And it had more than its share of everyone-pitch-in-and-come-together-as-a-community festivities.
He should definitely help her get the goats back into the barn and then make a plan to head to the local bar and pick up a hot bayou girl tonight. Sooner rather than later. The sooner he got reacquainted with his dirty side, the easier it would be to suppress his save-the-day side.
He started herding a goat that was still on the ground with one foot until Rory could scoop it up.
Once she had the goat in the pen, she leaned over and pulled the antlers from its mouth. “Not edible, Jafar.”
