Page 42 of Cowboy Bear's Hope

But work didn’t stop just because I wanted to sit and indulge in the warmth of her presence.

The moment I dropped her off replayed in my mind. Rosie had sensed something different, and the sweet cub gifted me with a cute, sloppy kiss on my cheek, shouting her goodbye before taking off for her Aunt Penny.

Avery had just glanced back over her shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips as she waved. I couldn’t help but think about the end of the workday—about the moment I’d get to hold her again.

That thought alone was enough to push me through the hours ahead.

“Max! Dante just punched me into a pile of shit!”

I scoffed. Kian actually fucking tattled on me.

“Did he now?” Max said, and I could tell from his expression the Jersey Devil was amused.

“Hey, Boss.” I nodded at our Alpha.

Max dipped his chin, then turned to scratch his head as he watched Jed try to help Kian out of the holding pen. Pretty damn comical since Dolly Lee—or maybe Dolly Lou?

Anyway, the little she-goat kept head butting Kian in the gut and knocking his sorry ass back down.

Snort.

It was still cold as fuck, but cows were cows. They needed time outdoors.

The herd was a mixture of Jerseys and Holsteins. They were hearty for cold weather, and in Dry Creek that only lasted a couple of months out of the year.

We mainly kept them in the barn, but we were updating the ventilation system and Jed had moved the old girls outside early this morning.

“Fuck,” Kian muttered, and I had to work not to smile at the picture he made covered in cow shit.

“Uh, Dante, can I talk to you a second?” Max asked.

“Sure.”

I trudged over to where he was, straightening my shoulders. The Alpha and I rarely had a need for private discussions, but I knew this one was coming.

“So, you claimed Avery last night?” Max, our Alpha, asked, his tone even but his piercing, red-rimmed gaze was impossible to ignore.

“I did,” I replied, my voice steady.

In my old Clan, claiming a female without permission from the Alpha was a punishable offense. Usually, that meant a challenge. A fight in either human or Bear form.

Usually, the first one to draw blood won. But sometimes, well, sometimes fights were to the death.

I supposed I should have asked Max if he planned any rules like those for the Motley Crewd Ranch. We were his Shifters, after all. We’d named him Alpha, and my beast recognized him as such.

“And does she understand what that means?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.

“Yes, Alpha. I explained it to her,” I said carefully.

He nodded slowly, tapping his fingers on his jean clad legs. Max wasn’t a bully. Nor was he a tyrant like my last Alpha. But exercising caution was always wise.

“I see, I see. Did you, uh, happen to mention the possibility of Rosie’s father’s supernatural biology?”

Max circled me and I moved with him, scratching the back of my neck and rolling my shoulders.

Keeping loose.

Staying ready.

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