Romani Prince

Chapter 22: The Cowboy

It's really beautiful out here. I am glad that I brought my camera, so I can spend some time taking pictures.

By my calculations from when we left the hotel, we're around four hours away from D.C. Somewhere in West Virginia, maybe?

"I said five minutes. It's been seven."

Startled, I have to do a one-eighty turn to find that entitled cowboy, once more checking me out, like I'm some kind of a special offering.

He doesn't seem pleased with what he sees and I don't give a rat's ass.

The huge Bull Terrier sitting by his feet is cute, though.

"Hey, there!" I crouch down offering my hand for the dog to sniff and he comes to say hi with his wagging tail up high.

"I can't believe this..." The troll mumbles from in between his teeth.

I ignore it.

"What's his name?"

"Bully."

I chuckle. "You named your Bull Terrier, Bully? Why would you do that?" A name more fitting for the owner, I smile to myself.

"He's Bully the fifth. I wasn't even born to name the first one."

The troll and I stare at each other for a moment, and I decide that the fact that he dislikes me is... very refreshing.

Maybe this new plan of my father's will backfire beautifully.

I turn my attention back to Bully. "Good boy!" I ruffle him up a bit and scratch his ears.

Bully literally drools.

"You should be careful. He tends to be kind of vicious with everyone but me."

I shoot the cowboy a defiant glare and, as if to prove him wrong, Bully flops down on the grass with his taught belly up, begging for more scratches.

"Shit..." Another annoyed grunt.

I grin, overly bemused. "I'm terrified."

The grumpy cowboy straightens up, kicking the dirt with his boots and squinting at me.

"Bully!"

The dog jumps up and darts to join his owner that continues to glare at me.

"Come on! Gertie wants you to see the puppies and I don't have all day to chat."

I hurry to follow him, but it isn't easy to match his long leg's giant strides. Actually, it's nearly impossible, so I have to break into a light jog by his side.

"How many puppies?"

"You'll see." He groans.

"Is it just one litter?"

The cowboy that I still don't know the name, stops abruptly while pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Look... I do love my dog and the others are okay. But breeding is Gertie's thing, so if you have any questions, ask her, alright?"

He turns his back to me and resumes stomping down the path to the long building down the hill.

When noticing that I am not following him, he groans and backtracks until he is towering over me.

"What?" He barks.

I place my hands on my hips and let out a long sigh.

"Let's cut the crap already, okay? We both know why I was brought here, but I assure you that I never had the intention to come here myself. I was practically shanghaied by my own parents. I'm not interested! You're not interested! Great! But we're stuck with each other for a week, so maybe, just maybe, you could be a little nicer to me!"