Page 119 of Cowboy Bull's Promise

Heat, danger, and a faint smell of brimstone and expensive cologne.

“Yo.”

Zeke slides into a stool two down from mine like he didn’t just trigger every fight or flee instinct I have.

Takes a certain level of Dragon arrogance to stroll into a bar with that much aura and sit like the throne was made for him.

“Hey.” I nod, dipping my chin.

Arliss appears with a grin and a wink, always so fucking glorious, even in jeans and a T-shirt with the bar’s logo stretched lovingly across her tits.

“Hi, Zeke. What can I get you?”

“Beer.”

Classic. One-word Dragon answers.

Gotta love ‘em.

“Sure thing.”

She heads to the cooler, hips swaying in that way that makes my whole body tense with need.

Before she can pop the cap, Bob calls her over.

“Arliss! I need you a sec!”

“Be right there!” she calls back, but not before she leans over the bar, curls brushing my cheek, and plants a soft kiss on my lips.

“Be right back, Baby.”

Baby.

I blink like someone slapped me with a flower-scented frying pan.

“No worries,” I mumble, completely dumbstruck.

My heart is doing that embarrassing, stupid little leap thing, like I didn’t just get kissed by an actual goddess in a dive bar.

Zeke’s beer hits the counter, and he watches Arliss walk away before snorting into his drink.

“Baby?” he repeats, drawling it out, making it sound like it’s a cuss word. “She knows you turn into a one-ton Bull, right?”

“Man, fuck you.”

I don't even look at him. “She can call me Baby, Bubba, Brisket, Burger. I don’t give a damn.”

Zeke smirks. “Brisket, huh? That’s a little dark, considering?—”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

“Fine. But if she calls you Moochie, I’m taking photos.”

“Don’t you have a fight to start? Or a lava pit to brood in?” I ask Zeke, giving him a sideways look as he sips his beer with the smugness only a fire-breathing apex predator can manage.

He shrugs one massive shoulder.

“I was helping Mrs. O’Hare stock Max’s kitchen, but she kicked me out for reorganizing her spice rack alphabetically. Apparently, cumin is not supposed to be next to cinnamon.”

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