Page 23 of Cowboy Bear's Hope

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.”

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