Page 139 of Cowboy Bull's Promise

“Hey Arliss,” Avery says, tossing her braid over her shoulder as she arranges a display of cinnamon-streusel muffins shaped like tiny bulls. “Is it normal to be sweating this much before noon, or am I just nesting again?”

I smirk at the pregnant woman, and really, I start to wonder if it’s catching.

I mean, I want kids. But I know it isn’t always easy.

Or maybe it is in this Crew.

Probably because the guys are so damn hot that we can’t help but be fertile. Seriously, it’s like I can feel my ovaries going off like fireworks whenever Kian is in the same room as me.

I know he thinks I am upset about the whole kidnapped by crazy cats to breed their young thing, but honestly that was their issue. It has nothing to do with me and Kian.

And since I am being truthful with myself, the thing is, I want his babies. Like ten of them, minimum.

I should probably tell him that. Later.

“I think that’s just called being alive,” I finally reply to Avery, juggling a tray of mini cheese samples like I’ve done this all my life and not, you know, exactly once before today.

“It’s called you’re pregnant and stubborn,” Jez chimes in, smoothing her apron over her own growing bump, and using that spooky calm voice of hers that usually precedes either deep wisdom or a mild ghost haunting. “You should sit for a bit.”

“You’re pregnant and stubborn too!” Avery shoots back.

“True. But I don’t pretend to be anything but exhausted,” Jez shrugs, then gives me a pointed look. “How about you? You good?”

“I mean,” I glance down at the sample tray with our new flavors: rosemary lavender, cracked pepper basil, smoked paprika honey, and then at the slow trickle of customers approaching. “I’m not full-on panicking yet, so we’ll call that a win.”

Avery wiggles her eyebrows. “You’re about to make cheese history, babe.”

“I just don’t want people to taste it and spontaneously combust, is that too much to ask?” I say, only halfway joking.

“Relax,” Jez says, taking one of the toothpick samples and popping it into her mouth. Her eyes roll back like she’s seen heaven. “Sweet Goddess. I’d let your Bull do unholy things to me for another bite of that smoked paprika one.”

Avery chokes on a laugh. “Don’t let Emmet hear that.”

“He’s too busy adjusting the new sparkle-chap straps Kian made him to notice,” Jez deadpans, fanning herself dramatically.

My man is one for the jokes for sure. I grin as I recall him bedazzling those things for the Wolf in the middle of the night.

We all snort-laugh at that and settle into our rhythm—passing out samples, explaining flavors, working the till while people meander over, drawn in by the scent of warm pastries and creamy cheese.

Gramps is in the stands with his new lady love, Melody, eating the tray of goodies I brought them. I am so happy he is doing well, and I love that he is here.

Come to think of it, I’ve never felt so content.

Despite my nerves, I’m actually kind of loving this.

It feels real. Mine. Ours.

I hear the buzzer, and the crowd is going crazy as the bull riding begins.

“Go! Watch your men, I got this!” Jez urges and I follow Avery to where we both can see.

Dante looks great up there, but it is Kian’s Bull that holds my attention.

He is magnificent. So powerfully built and fast. The way he bucks and twists, I can see the bear is actually struggling to hold on.

Everyone has already explained that because they’re Shifters, they can’t always win. Otherwise it’d be suspicious.

But boys will be boys and they have egos and competitive streaks wide as the Grand Canyon.

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