Page 6 of Cowboy Bear’s Hope (Motley Crewd Shifters #3)

D ante Bianco checked every single one of my boxes.

If I were a sculptor, he would be my very own Pygmalion come to life.

I sometimes wished I was one of those effortlessly confident women who could make men fall at their feet with barely a glance. You know the type. Tall, elegant, perfectly aware of their place in the world at the top of the totem pole.

But that wasn’t me. In fact, I was the polar opposite of whatever that was.

So naturally, I stood like a moron as he exited his truck and walked around to greet Rosie, those sturdy arms open wide for my little girl.

My mouth went dry, my thoughts silenced by the sight of him closing the space between us.

Every step seemed deliberate.

Each one a display of restrained power.

The sturdy denim of his jeans gripped his tree trunk thighs like it was barely holding together.

Stretching and yielding as if defying the laws of whatever it was that held fabric together.

Physics maybe?

I wasn’t exactly in a position to contemplate that since I had to remind myself to breathe as my chest tightened.

The flannel shirt clung to his broad torso, hinting at the raw strength beneath.

I’d seen him without it once—just once—but it had been enough to etch the memory into my mind.

Dante wasn’t just a man. He was a force of nature.

His muscles weren’t chiseled in the way leaner men’s often were. But he didn’t need intricate definition to be sexy as fuck.

What he had was raw, unfiltered power. The kind that spoke of function over form, of strength born not from vanity but from purpose.

And God, but it pulled at something primal in me.

There was a part of me that wanted to be enveloped by him. Like I wanted to just sink into the warmth and safety of his presence.

It was irrational. A purely visceral desire—to feel the weight of his arms around me, to take refuge in the unyielding shelter of his body.

The dominance he carried wasn’t flashy or loud. It was quiet, understated, like a steady hum of electricity in the air, a shield of confidence and capability that surrounded him.

His muscles seemed to ripple with each motion, tensing and relaxing in a symphony of strength.

Even the simple act of adjusting his belt before crouching down to scoop up my eager daughter seemed to radiate a kind of masculine grace.

Rosie didn’t hesitate. She darted toward him with a giggle, certain that his arms would open for her—and they did.

He caught her like it was his job. Like he’d done it a million times. His big hands cradling her as though she were made of glass.

It was a sight that should have melted me, should have made me trust him more.

Instead, it made me wary. Because, as much as it pained me to admit, Dante wasn’t ours.

He might seem like a gentle giant, but he was a man who could break hearts. And I wasn’t sure I could afford to let mine be one of them.

See, Dante might be my dream guy, but I wasn’t his dream girl. Rosie wasn’t his daughter. And he wasn’t here to sign up for me and my ready-made family.

The cold hard truth was we were nothing to Dante. Admitting that, even if only to myself, hurt more than I cared to admit.

I had to force the lump in my throat down before I nodded my hello at him.

My heart squeezed as I listened to Rosie rattle on about her day. Dante listened, as he always did, giving her his full attention.

Shit.

I wished he wouldn’t do that. I mean, I just didn’t want him to let her down once he got tired of her, as single men who weren’t fathers tended to do.

I’d have to have a chat with him.

But right then, I allowed myself to enjoy the fantasy of seeing him hoist my daughter in the air and smile at her like he really did care.

She squealed with delight as he held her up high and gave her a spin that had her giggling uncontrollably.

Dangerous daydream, Avery.

Shut it down.

“Let’s get her buckled before she pukes on you,” I said.

“Pukes?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Mama, I only puked on that man who smelled bad like old coffee. You said you wasn’t mad,” Rosie murmured, and her lower lip quivered.

“Oh, Rosie, I wasn’t mad. And it wasn’t your fault, precious girl. But you wouldn’t want to throw up on Mr. Bianco, would you?” I asked and reached for my daughter.

“It’s Dante, and no worries, a little throw up is nothing. Ain’t that right, Rosie Posie?” he asked, putting her in the back seat of his truck where he had a child safety seat ready and waiting.

Hmm.

That was weird. It looked new. But why would Dante buy a safety seat for his truck?

“Avery, you comin’?” he murmured, and I looked up to see him waiting with the passenger door open.

“Oh, um, thank you,” I said, and went to climb inside.

It was a tall truck, and I was a short woman. I’d been inside it before, but I guess I was more tired than I thought because I missed the runner and almost toppled backwards with my big bag weighing down my shoulder.

Lucky for me, Dante was quick, and strong.

“Easy. I gotcha,” he rumbled, his big hands catching me by my waist.

“Oof! Uh, thanks,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks burn as I righted myself and got into the damn truck.

Kill me now.

Bad enough I’d already thrown myself at the big guy and been refused, but now he’d managed to cop a feel right where I was squishiest.

My stomach was soft, and I had stretch marks there that matched the ones on my boobs, thanks to my pregnancy and my love of everything delicious and chocolatey.

Sure, I could blame it on genetics or being big-boned or whatever, but the fact was I liked food.

I’d tried fad diets, but they never worked. And despite being a nurse, I was not big on taking unnecessary medication. I was overweight, but I was active and relatively healthy, too.

I simply enjoyed eating.

It probably didn’t help that my bestie was an out of this world baker. I’d helped Penny over the years at her bakery, and now at the monthly rodeo, I worked her food truck with her, too.

She paid me in muffins and birthday cakes for Rosie.

Don’t laugh, those were damn expensive. Especially the artistic ones Penny made.

This year my baby girl had requested a cake shaped like a big old teddy bear, and Penelope was thrilled with the challenge of creating realistic fur using only chocolate buttercream.

I couldn’t wait.

Speaking of which, I had to stop by the house for my sewing kit and the decorations and plans for Rosie’s party.

“Um, could you drop by my place? I have to get something,” I asked quietly, and Dante hummed before responding.

“Of course.”

“Mama has to get her kit for Mr. Bunny Tail,” Rosie enthused.

“Your what?”

“Oh, she means sewing kit,” I explained.

“Nuh uh, Mama. It’s your Care & Repair kit!”

Dante raised his eyebrows and glanced at me expectantly while maneuvering his truck expertly down the icy streets.

“It’s for Mr. Bunny Tail,” I blurted.

“Mama fixes all my friends’ dolls and stuffies, Danny. She’s the best nurse,” Rosie confirmed.

“I don’t doubt it, Rosie Posie,” Dante said with that killer grin that made my heart beat double time.

He pulled up to my front door, and I unbuckled my seat belt.

“Do you need help?”

“No, no. You two stay here. I’ll be right back!” I said too brightly.

Ugh. Kill me now.

The sky was heavy with clouds in every shade of gray and white, and I knew we were going to get snow.

Excitement filled me, battling with my nerves at the thought of driving out to the ranch, sitting in the passenger seat of Dante’s truck.

I mean, why should I be so excited? This man had basically rejected me twice. And yet, I couldn't seem to stop crushing on him.

Apparently, I was a glutton for something other than Penny’s amazing baked goods.

When will I learn?

“Mama, are we gonna build a snowman?” Rosie interrupted my turbulent thoughts.

“We sure are,” I told her with a smile.

“Supposed to get a foot or more. Did you all bring enough clothes?” Dante asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

“Yup! Mama got me pink sparkly snow pants! They only had plain in the store, but Mama fixed them cause she’s magic.” Rosie said, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“I used a ton of fabric glue and glitter. It’s no big deal. She, um, likes pink,” I murmured, my cheeks burning for whatever reason.

“I disagree. I think it’s a very big deal, Avery. You’re a real good mom,” he said, and a ripple of pure pleasure rolled through me at the unexpected compliment.

I hummed noncommittally and turned my attention to the scenery speeding by. But Dante didn’t drive recklessly. On the contrary, he had total control of the vehicle. And I felt completely secure in both mine and Rosie’s safety with him at the wheel.

“How about some music?” Dante’s deep voice interrupted my thoughts, and I nodded as he flipped the station on.

“Is this 80s glam rock?” I asked with a giggle catching in my throat.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like Poison?” he asked, the started belting along with Brett Michaels about roses and thorns and turning my insides to goo.

He could sing, too? What the actual fuck?

Dangerous, sexy man.

Rosie knew the song well, since it was one of my favorites, and soon, we were all singing along as we made our way to Penny and Max’s house.

It was beautiful on the Motley Crewd Ranch no matter the season, but something about seeing it draped in white made my insides quiver with expectation.

Or maybe that was just the company.

Down girl. Down.

Three times rejected was not something I wanted to experience. Best to ignore the trembling butterflies in my stomach whenever he was around.

Rushing into things was how I wound up a single parent, and even though I wouldn’t change it for the world, I didn’t need a man who played games. No more emotional rollercoasters for me.

Dante Bianco might be a good man.

Heck, he might be an exceptional man.

But he wasn’t my man.

Just remember that, Avery. And you won’t have any problems.