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P enny’s home healing after popping out two of the cutest, chubbiest babies this side of the Appalachians, but she still managed to bark orders at us from her perch on the couch like the bakery boss queen she is.

“Keep Max away for at least two hours, ” she’d insisted, waving a spatula like a scepter as Avery and I nodded solemnly like good little soldiers.

Apparently, Max’s contract with his grandma—the original Devil in the Jersey Devil’s family tree—requires him to log actual labor hours on the ranch during sanctioned community events or risk losing access to the property and the ranch's resources.

And since Max gave all the Crew a stake in the land, everyone is shall we say highly invested in keeping those hours logged and the matriarch appeased.

“But Penny might need something,” Max starts as we pass him at the rodeo staging area, his Devilishly red worry lines already in full formation.

“Max,” I say, in full don’t-test-me mode, handing him his gloves with a look. “Penny is fine. She’s got Mrs. O’Hare and Jed, who I’m pretty sure is wearing a Baby Bjorn with a baby goat in it, at her beck and call. Now you get your head in the game and win her that second place ribbon.”

“Second?” he growls.

I smirk. “Well, you know we can’t go flashing a certain growly secret around to the whole wide world.”

He narrows his eyes, but doesn’t argue. Victory.

I really am getting the hang of this Crew thing.

As Max stalks off muttering something about rigged competitions, I turn and catch sight of Kian disappearing into the back of the barn to shift.

My Bull. My man. My mate.

Still gives me butterflies, even though I have seen and touched every inch of the man.

I licked him, and now he is mine. So back off, beyotches.

I’ve already wished him luck, but I am still nervous as heck.

He’s volunteering as the mount for the bull riding segment again, since he’s the only one who doesn’t bow and break beneath Dante’s giant Bear Shifter form.

The others are doing this and that, it’s a lot to take in and I’m not even sure what’s what. But it’s so exciting to be part of something like this.

My nerves are frayed at the thought of the huge crowd forming for their showdown. But that’s for the guys to handle.

Meanwhile, Avery, Jezebel, and I are knee-deep in the controlled chaos that is rodeo day setup.

With Penny out of commission and Jed busy wrangling goats and dairy supplies, and being at the new mom’s disposal, the three of us are flying solo at the Devil’s Food Bakery and Dolly’s Dairy Products booths.

And because life loves a challenge, we’re launching the brand-new line of herbed goat cheeses today.

Mine.

Eeek!

So yes, I’m about one pastry away from a full-blown anxiety spiral.

“Hey Arliss,” Avery says, tossing her braid over her shoulder as she arranges a display of cinnamon-streusel muffins shaped like tiny bulls. “Is it normal to be sweating this much before noon, or am I just nesting again?”

I smirk at the pregnant woman, and really, I start to wonder if it’s catching.

I mean, I want kids. But I know it isn’t always easy.

Or maybe it is in this Crew.

Probably because the guys are so damn hot that we can’t help but be fertile. Seriously, it’s like I can feel my ovaries going off like fireworks whenever Kian is in the same room as me.

I know he thinks I am upset about the whole kidnapped by crazy cats to breed their young thing, but honestly that was their issue. It has nothing to do with me and Kian.

And since I am being truthful with myself, the thing is, I want his babies. Like ten of them, minimum.

I should probably tell him that. Later.

“I think that’s just called being alive,” I finally reply to Avery, juggling a tray of mini cheese samples like I’ve done this all my life and not, you know, exactly once before today.

“It’s called you’re pregnant and stubborn,” Jez chimes in, smoothing her apron over her own growing bump, and using that spooky calm voice of hers that usually precedes either deep wisdom or a mild ghost haunting. “You should sit for a bit.”

“You’re pregnant and stubborn too!” Avery shoots back.

“True. But I don’t pretend to be anything but exhausted,” Jez shrugs, then gives me a pointed look. “How about you? You good?”

“I mean,” I glance down at the sample tray with our new flavors: rosemary lavender, cracked pepper basil, smoked paprika honey, and then at the slow trickle of customers approaching. “I’m not full-on panicking yet, so we’ll call that a win.”

Avery wiggles her eyebrows. “You’re about to make cheese history, babe.”

“I just don’t want people to taste it and spontaneously combust, is that too much to ask?” I say, only halfway joking.

“Relax,” Jez says, taking one of the toothpick samples and popping it into her mouth. Her eyes roll back like she’s seen heaven. “Sweet Goddess. I’d let your Bull do unholy things to me for another bite of that smoked paprika one.”

Avery chokes on a laugh. “Don’t let Emmet hear that.”

“He’s too busy adjusting the new sparkle-chap straps Kian made him to notice,” Jez deadpans, fanning herself dramatically.

My man is one for the jokes for sure. I grin as I recall him bedazzling those things for the Wolf in the middle of the night.

We all snort-laugh at that and settle into our rhythm—passing out samples, explaining flavors, working the till while people meander over, drawn in by the scent of warm pastries and creamy cheese.

Gramps is in the stands with his new lady love, Melody, eating the tray of goodies I brought them. I am so happy he is doing well, and I love that he is here.

Come to think of it, I’ve never felt so content.

Despite my nerves, I’m actually kind of loving this.

It feels real. Mine. Ours.

I hear the buzzer, and the crowd is going crazy as the bull riding begins.

“Go! Watch your men, I got this!” Jez urges and I follow Avery to where we both can see.

Dante looks great up there, but it is Kian’s Bull that holds my attention.

He is magnificent. So powerfully built and fast. The way he bucks and twists, I can see the bear is actually struggling to hold on.

Everyone has already explained that because they’re Shifters, they can’t always win. Otherwise it’d be suspicious.

But boys will be boys and they have egos and competitive streaks wide as the Grand Canyon.

So, yeah, they wager and drop gauntlets amongst themselves.

Kian bucks Dante with half a second to spare. Perfect timing, and I know I won the pool.

“Oh drat! That’s just bad luck, Dante!” Avery yells, but I know it has nothing to do with luck and everything to do with my amazing mate.

We go back to the stands, and a few minutes later Kian catches my eye from across the way, shirtless, glistening, walking like a golden god in cowboy boots.

He lifts a hand, and I swear, my thighs clench from a simple wave.

“I saw that look,” Jez teases.

“I felt that look,” Avery fans herself again.

“What? It’s hot outside!” I protest weakly.

“Girl, it’s hot inside, too. Specifically, inside your pants,” Jez laughs.

“Okay, okay, can we maybe not talk about my nether regions while I’m trying to sell cheese to Pastor Cooper and his wife?” I hiss, nodding toward the table where a sweet couple is waiting for a sample.

Avery gives me a wicked smile. “Better tell him not to try the paprika honey then. It does things to a person.”

Avery waggles her eyebrows and does a booty shake that makes me giggle. And snort.

And just like that, my nerves vanish.

Because we’re doing it. All of it.

Surviving. Thriving. Working. Loving.

Living.

And tonight, when the rodeo’s over and the stands are empty, I’ll go home to my Bull, wrap myself around him, and tell him all about how I sold out of our cheese before noon.

Because this life?

This wild, weird, utterly magical life?

It’s ours now. And it’s just getting started.