Owen (BBW Western Bear Shifter Romance) (Rodeo Bears Book 2) Read Free Page B

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

    “I should be used to it,” the woman said, dusting herself off. “It’s not the first time it’s happened. At least you’re not a bear.”

    Mary Beth looked the woman over. Dressed in denim shorts and holding a horseshoe in her hand, she seemed like she fit in, but Mary Beth knew better. The woman’s skin was tanned, but the freckles across her shoulders revealed the tan was new. There was no ridiculous hat or boots to her get-up. The woman may be a fan, but she was no cowgirl.

    “Oh my god, you’re normal!” Mary Beth exclaimed. “I’m so glad to have another normal person around. Can I buy you a drink for making you eat dust?”

    “I shouldn’t,” the woman said, suddenly uncomfortable.

    “Come on,” Mary Beth insisted. “It’s better than playing horseshoes all by yourself. It’s a little sad.” She tucked her arm around the woman’s and dragged her towards the nearest beer tent. “Don’t be bashful. We normal girls have to stick together. Plus, I’m the boss around here, so you have to do what I say.”

    “You’re the boss?” the woman asked, looking behind her.

    “This is my papa’s show. He runs the rodeo, but he’s away attending to other business, so I’m taking his place.”

    “I wouldn’t want to upset the boss,” the woman said reluctantly.  

    Mary Beth wasn’t offended. She was used to people shying away from her. “What’s your name?” she asked. “I’m Mary Beth.”

    “Dakota,” the woman introduced.

    “Well, Dakota, I hope you like to drink, because after the day I’ve had, I need several.”

    “I’m not really much of a drinker.”

    “Neither am I,” Mary Beth chirped. “That’s how bad of a day it’s been.”

    Tables were lined in orderly rows beneath the tent, which reminded Mary Beth of her papa. He would have approved. But though the tables were disciplined, the people who sat at them were not. They were loud and merry. Some had broken into a country song on the charts that Mary Beth had listened to many times before, but she’d never admit to knowing the lyrics.

    “I like the atmosphere in here,” she said to Dakota as they took a seat at the counter. “It’s not as stuffy as other tents I’ve visited today. It kind of reminds me of a club.”

    “I don’t go to many clubs,” Dakota answered. “I’m more of a homebody. At least, I used to be.”

    “What does that mean?”

    She tensed. “Doesn’t matter.”

    Mary Beth tried to put her at ease. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite. I’m here to have fun.” She turned to the bartender, a round guy with plump cheeks and a hat that barely fit over his head. “Two champagnes,” she ordered. “With strawberries.”

    The bartender laughed condescendingly. “Ale or whiskey, darling?”

    “I said champagne. And don’t speak to me that way. Do you know who I am?”

    “Yeah, I know,” he muttered as he picked up a rag to clean a glass. “You’re the boss’s daughter. Makes no difference. I have ale. And I have whiskey. Unless you can magically make something else appear, those are your choices.”

    She glanced him over. “I like you,” she decided. “I’ll take one of each for the three of us.”

    “Gladly, darling,” he said, pleased, and he poured them their drinks. “To good times,” he cheered with his glass of whiskey.

    “To good times,” she echoed.

    They shot down their glasses while Dakota took a tentative sip of hers.

    “Thanks,” the bartender bid before stepping away to attend to the line forming around the counter, abandoning the pint she’d ordered for him.

    She turned her attention back to Dakota. “Where are you from?” she asked.

    “Up north,” she answered, evasive. “And you?”

    “California. Have you been?”

    “Never.”

    “You should. It is so beautiful there. It’s hot, but not like the cactus and tumbleweed around here. I hate the desert. In California, there are palm trees and