Page 53 of Cowboy Bear's Hope

Score one for me.

I watched her retreat toward the living room, her hips swaying, and my chest filled with a sense of purpose.

I didn’t know what had caused her grief today, but I’d find out. And whatever she needed from me, I’d give it to her.

That was my promise.

My vow.

I might not understand women all that well, but I knew what kind of mate I wanted to be—the kind she could count on. The kind who made her feel safe and loved every single day.

It all started here, right now.

Because she was my mate.

My everything.

And I’d move mountains if that’s what it took to see her smile again.

Chapter Fifteen-Avery

“Sleepy, Mama,” Rosie murmured as Dante carried her to the bed.

I smiled and walked behind them, cooing to her softly.

“I know, Baby Girl. Sleep now,” I said in a hushed tone as he lay her down gently.

He was such a sweet man.

The way he handled my daughter—so tender and careful—was enough to make me swoon.

And I meant really swoon, like a heroine in one of those romance novels I was constantly reading. The kind who clutched her chest and fanned herself whenever the hero was in sight.

He was just so, so everything.

Dante Bianco, the enigma of a man, was surprisingly paternal for someone who’d never had a family of his own.

A single man who’d never even dated a woman, at least as far as I knew.

Well, I mean, he’d been a virgin before we slept together, so I was pretty confident he hadn’t gone out with a lot of women, specifically single moms.

The thought of that—of how he’d saved himself, even unintentionally—brought a flush to my cheeks.

It didn’t help that my mind immediately strayed to the things we’d done together, the kind of things that could set a room on fire.

Experienced or not, Dante was one hell of a lover. The kind that left you breathless, craving more, and wondering how you’d gotten so lucky.

But this moment, right now, was a different kind of intimacy.

Actually, the entire night had been like that.

Just doing the normal things with him, making dinner, eating, then watching TV after. Seeing him crouched on the living room floor, folding pillows and arranging blankets into a whimsical little fort for Rosie, was like a scene straight out of a rom-com.

You know, the kind of scene designed to make ovaries everywhere go off like firecrackers.

Rosie had never giggled so much. Dante had peeked into the fort, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his deep voice morphing into something playful and cartoonish as he pretended to not know he couldn’t fit inside.

It was hilarious. He even had me forgetting my fight with Penny.

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