Page 8 of Cowboy Bear’s Hope (Motley Crewd Shifters #3)

T he snow was really coming down as I tucked Rosie into the full-sized bed inside Dante’s guest room.

Strange, I expected dark, masculine colors to dominate the big man’s home, but I was wrong. The entire place was bright and cozy, with large windows facing the forest that seemed to edge along the entire property.

Inside the cabin, the wood floors were polished and gleaming. All the accents were all pale nudes, peaches, and sage greens. The guest room in particular surprised me with the mostly pink accent rug and bedding.

I wouldn’t say it was for a child, but it was definitely more feminine than I expected. I worried my lower lip, leaving the door slightly open so I could hear Rosie if she woke.

If Dante had a woman in his life since he’d been at Dry Creek, I hadn’t seen her. But why else would he have pink bedding, for fuck’s sake?

The idea of him with someone else made my stomach twist in knots, but that wasn’t fair.

I had no claim on him. We weren’t exes or anything. I mean, we were never involved with each other.

Heck, we weren’t even friends.

Why did you agree to stay here, then?

“She go down all right?” Dante asked, startling me, and I jumped, clutching my hand to my throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he whispered, backing up and rubbing his hand over the top of his head as I entered the surprisingly large living room.

My mouth went dry. He’d removed his flannel sometime during the pizza dinner he’d picked up before getting us, having had it safely tucked away in the covered bed of his truck. Left in a solid white t-shirt that molded to his body left me with a very serious problem.

Like how was I going to resist climbing Mount Dante and planting my flag at the topmost peak?

“Yes, she’s fine.”

“Good. Um, wine?” he asked.

“Sure.” I nodded and watched him retrieve my glass from the dining table that sat off to the side of the living room area.

It was only seven-thirty. Way too early for me to pretend to be tired. Not that I was tired. Like at all. Even after working all day, I never went to bed before eleven.

Of course, that was usually when I worked on my side gig, sewing stuffies. Which reminded me, I had a certain bunny rabbit to fix.

“I love the way you opened up the kitchen, dining, and living rooms,” I told him as I accepted the glass and took the stuffed bunny and sewing kit over to the large sofa that sat in beside the fireplace.

“Yeah? Thanks. I just thought it would be nice. Make the place bigger,” he replied, and I would swear he was blushing.

“Wanna sit with me while I fix Mr. Bunny Tail?” I asked, then froze. Mortified by my suggestion.

“I’m sorry, that’s stupid. You probably have things to do. I don’t know why I even suggested that. I mean you’ve already been so nice inviting us into your home—” I babbled, about half a second from a full on freakout.

“Avery,” he said my name and grabbed me by my upper arms. “I’d love to sit with you while you fix Mr. Bunny Tail. I’m just gonna grab a beer from the fridge. Is there anything else you’d like?”

My eyes went wide as I imagined all the things I would like from the man, but I shook my head instead. I might have been incapable of speech, but at least I didn’t make an even bigger ass of myself.

Dante’s velvet brown irises seemed to darken to an almost impossible black color, and he nodded before he let me go— reluctantly, too, or so I thought.

A few moments later, he was sitting beside me with a beer in hand as I mended my daughter’s stuffed rabbit.

“You do that well,” he remarked, and a stupid amount of pride filled me.

“Thanks. It’s probably corny, but I like to sew.”

“When did you learn? And why on earth would it be corny?” he asked, and I peeked up at him to see if he was teasing. But he looked earnest, so I answered him honestly.

“Well, I don’t know. I mean, you know I had Rosie when I was fairly young. And well, young people don’t sew.”

“But you learned?”

“Yeah, I learned.”

“And what about your family? When you found out about Rosie, didn’t they help?”

“Oh, um, no, actually. Well, it’s complicated,” I began, and surprised myself by explaining. “When I was in my late teens, early twenties, I went a little wild. Penny and I would sneak off to the rodeo and I was just dazzled by the excitement and the cowboys,” I whispered the last.

“You like cowboys?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I’ve been known to admire a cowboy or two,” I teased.

“Just so happens, I’m a cowboy,” he murmured, and I snorted a laugh because as usual I was just that smooth.

Don’t be jealous.

“Anyway,” I said, dragging out the word. “After that, I got pregnant. So, when people my age were hanging out in bars and having a good time, I was learning how to take care of a baby and balance a checkbook. There wasn’t a lot of money.”

“That must have been so hard. Didn’t you have anyone to help?”

I shrugged my shoulders. Truth was, I never really thought about it.

I carefully set down Mr. Bunny Tail, satisfied that the tear in his seam was stitched up good as new. Turning to Dante, I braced myself.

This wasn’t easy—talking about myself—but there was something about Dante that made me feel like it was all going to be okay. Like I just had to be honest with him.

He had a quiet steadiness, a way of listening that didn’t just hear but truly seemed to understand.

With him, the words I usually kept locked away felt safe to speak.

Talking to Dante was easier than I expected, easier than it had been with anyone else in a long time.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed this—having someone to talk to, to open up to.

Sure, I had Penny, my best friend, but she had her own life to live now that she’d finally found happiness. I was glad for her, really, I was.

Sometimes, if I felt a little green-eyed monster sitting on my shoulder, I just brushed it off. I was only human. A woman with wants and needs of my own. But I’d been a mother for so long, pushing my desires away was second nature now.

With Dante, though, I felt all those yearnings simmering beneath the surface, coming back with a vengeance.

There was no pretense, no need to sugarcoat it.

“You know,” I began, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, “it wasn’t easy. Going to nursing school while raising an infant... there were nights I thought I wouldn’t make it.”

“That must’ve been hard,” he growled, and damn if I didn’t feel that sound all the way to my toes.

“I don’t regret a single minute of it. Rosie is everything to me.”

My voice softened, my eyes searching his face for any flicker of judgment or understanding— was that even possible?

“She’s a wonderful child, Avery. You’ve done real good with her,” Dante said, his voice low and sincere.

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a frosty night.

His praise was simple and heartfelt. It pierced through my ice exterior, heating me down to my core.

It was perfect.

I needed it. Just like I needed him.

So damn much.

His words were a validation I hadn’t realized I’d been starving for. My chest tightened, my heart swelling with an unexpected emotion that made my throat ache.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I never realized how much those words would mean until someone actually said them out loud.”

I ducked my head, embarrassed by the tears that had suddenly pooled in my eyes, threatening to spill over.

I blinked quickly, trying to push them back, but it was no use. The raw emotion of the moment was too much, and for once, I let it wash over me.

It felt like a release—a crack in the wall I’d built around myself for so long.

Dante didn’t say anything, but his presence filled the room like a quiet assurance.

He didn’t need to speak. His steady gaze told me everything. I wasn’t alone, not in this moment, and maybe, just maybe, not anymore.

“Would it—I mean, would you mind very much?” I murmured and nodded at him.

“Come here,” he whispered.

I simply couldn’t help myself. So, I crawled onto his lap and flung my arms around his neck, holding him as tears wracked my body.

“Easy, I got you, Honey.”

Fuck. He called me Honey.

“Dante?”

“Yeah?”

I leaned back, catching his gaze with mine.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” I whispered, but I didn’t allow him to respond.

I just pressed my lips to his and hoped for the best.

Please don’t push me away.