Clay (BBW Secret Baby Bear Shifter Romance) (Secret Baby Bears Book 4)

by Becca Fanning

  Understanding, he allowed her to lead him to a private alley between the beer tents, far from the press. “You should have told me,” he asserted when they were alone, pressed between kegs of ale.

  “How do you know what happened?”

  “I called him as soon as you showed up. I didn’t buy your baloney story that he was busy with the new clothing line at Ray Chaudett. He would never miss the rodeo for something so trivial to him. This is where he’s happiest.”

  “Ray Chaudett isn’t trivial,” she protested. “He started the company to be closer to me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Owen hissed. “You should have told me. You knew I was in town. I shouldn’t have had to hear it from the maid over the phone.”

  “I didn’t have your number,” she explained, though she doubted she would have called him anyway.

  He shook his head. “Maybe I should leave and go visit him.”

  “Don’t,” she said, putting a hand to his chest. She cared very little about where Owen went, but she knew her papa would be upset if Owen didn’t compete. “It’s the last thing he’d want,” she added, softening her tone.

  “But what if he…”

  “He won’t,” she insisted, hoping it was true.

  Standing so close to Owen, she began to feel her heart beat faster. She was suddenly very aware of how strong a man Owen Hutch was, of how powerful he was. His body was thick and hard. His arms bulged through the T-shirt he wore. She felt her own body respond to his, pulsing in places other than her heart. Starving, she very much wanted Owen to pin her to the stack of kegs and run his hand up her skirt and past her lace panties, where his fingers could explore deep within her.

  It’s the grief, she determined, trying to keep her breath steady. It plays tricks on the soul.

  Owen must have felt the same. Tenderly, he took her hand and held it in his. Surprisingly, she liked the way it felt. It steadied her, helped ease her fears. But then he pulled a pen from his back pocket and scratched his phone number onto her palm, his anger returning.

  “Call me if you hear anything,” he demanded. Then tipping his hat her way, he left.

  It was a good thing. It gave Mary Beth a chance to catch her breath and to make a vow never to be so close to Owen Hutch again.

  Chapter Three

  Her mind full of worries, as Mary Beth walked out of the woman’s bathroom, she barely noticed the woman playing horseshoes nearby, not until she ran right into her, causing the woman to tumble to the ground, a horseshoe in hand.

  “Watch it next time!” the woman, a brunette with wavy hair and light brown eyes, griped.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mary Beth said, offering her hand to help the woman up. “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 beaches. Beverly Hills is especially nice. You have not shopped until you’ve been to Rodeo Drive. Do you like to shop?”

  “I used to.”

  “Well, if you’re ever in California, I’ll take you to Rodeo Drive and buy you a good pair of sunglasses. You’re going to need them if you’re hanging around the South.”

  Dakota smiled, relaxing.

  “What?” Mary Beth asked. “What did I say?”

  “You know… Rodeo Drive… and we’re at the rodeo.”

  She laughed, the whiskey coursing through her blood. “To the rodeos!” she cheered, picking up her pint glass.

  “I never thought I’d hear those words coming from you,” Owen said, appearing next to them.

  She pushed her pint away, her buzz suddenly vanishing. “What do you want?”

  “To apologize for earlier. It ain’t never right for a man to act that way to a lady. I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” she declared, enjoying the mood of the tent once more. “Now buy me another shot of whiskey. And Dakota too. She’s my new friend. And don’t call us ladies. We’re not that old.”

  Owen looked at Dakota knowingly. “Did she kidnap you?”

  “I let her,” Dakota answered, still smiling.

&nb
sp; “Well it’s good to see you in high spirits. Both of you.”

  “You know each other?” Mary Beth asked.

  “We recently met,” Owen answered, signaling for the bartender to refill their whiskey glasses. “She’s dating someone from the clan.”

  “Wow,” Mary Beth said to Dakota, impressed. “It takes courage to get cozy with a bear. Which one of the Tyrell Clan is it? Please tell me it’s Holden. He’s hot, isn’t he, with his dark hair and air of authority. Or is it adorable little Jacob? No, wait. Colby. I tell you, a man in a uniform is something special.”

  “I’m with Eddie,” she answered.

  “Really? The gambler?”

  “He doesn’t gamble anymore.”

  “Okay. I hope so. For your sake.”

  Owen stepped in. “How do you even know all of this?”

  Mary Beth sipped her pint. “Papa talks. I heard about the stunt you pulled out in Texas with the pigs. You’re lucky it wasn’t my papa’s show. He would have banned you from the rodeo for a year.”

  “Nah. Your papa couldn’t stay away from me for that long. Maybe a month,” Owen speculated as Eddie stormed into the tent, frantic, causing a scene.

  “Talk about summoning the devil,” Mary Beth muttered.

  “Dakota!” he cried with relief when he saw her, and he came to them. “I was worried when you weren’t by the horseshoes. I thought maybe Girey was back.”

  “I was kidnapped,” Dakota said lightly. “By your boss. I didn’t think I could say no.”

  “She ain’t my boss,” Eddie said with disapproval. “No way in hell I’m ever gonna let a stuck up city girl tell me what to do.”

  “Hey,” Owen said, stepping forward. “There’s no need.”

  “There really isn’t,” Dakota agreed. “I like her. She’s nice.”

  “She loves me,” Mary Beth claimed, pushing away the sting of his judgement. “I’m good company to be around, unlike unruly bears who burst in here trying to ruin the party.”

  Eddie ignored her. “There’s a dance starting in a little bit,” he said to Dakota, pushing a strand of her hair aside. “Would you like to go?”

  “Sure.” She stood from the counter, leaving her pint behind. “Thank you,” she said to Mary Beth. “It’s been fun.”

  “It would have been more fun, before the clan arrived. I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah, see you around.”

  Eddie put his arm around Dakota, holding her close, and the pair left.

  “So what is he protecting her from?” she asked Owen. “The look in his eyes when he came in was something I’ve rarely seen. He loves her. And he’s scared for her.”

  “It’s a long story,” Owen said.

  “I have all night,” she answered.

  His expression shifted, as if her words taunted him. “As fun as that sounds, how about we go to the dance instead.”

  “No,” she declined, thinking of her papa.

  He read her thoughts. “It’ll be okay,” he assured her. “I spoke to the hospital. He’s doing well.”

  “Yeah, they said the same to me, but I don’t think it’d be appropriate.”

  “You know it’s what Ray would want,” he coaxed as he took her hand. Once again, they steadied her. “Come on. It’ll take your mind off things.”

  Because what he said was true, that it was what her papa would want, she obliged, but she removed her hand from Owen’s. The last thing she needed was a press storm about how the rodeo superstar and the boss’s daughter were an item.

  ***

  “How do you know the moves?” Dakota yelled over the music as the dance floor did the Country Slide while a live band played behind them.

  “I’ve known the Country Slide since I was a little bumpkin,” Mary Beth told her, turning with the other dancers. “Don’t tell the guys, but I actually enjoy line dancing.”

  “Me too!” Dakota said. “Who knew?”

  Like the arena, the dance hall – an old grange that had survived three generations of scout meetings, charity bingo, and the jive – was a permanent fixture on the grounds. Mary Beth’s parents had danced here, once upon a time when they were young and carefree. She liked the history of the place, but the she didn’t care so much for the elk skulls attached to the walls.

  “I used to dance back home,” Dakota revealed. “I took ballet. My favorite time to dance was at night, when it’s quiet and peaceful.”

  A new song began, and the formation changed, taking Dakota away before she could tell more of her story. Mary Beth did her best to keep up with the moves, but she wasn’t familiar with the dance. She felt like a lily pad trapped on the sea.

  “You lost?” Owen asked as he made his way across the floor to her. “Here, let me show you.” He bent his knees down and twisted his foot out, following the lead of those around them.

  She immediately burst out laughing. “You have got to be kidding me. The bear dances?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked you here if I didn’t,” he said, flashing her his superstar smile.

  “Are we here together?” she asked softly, subdued.

  Owen snapped his fingers at the band. Instantly, the music melted to a song that was as slow and sensual as country could get. “I like to think so,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Is that okay?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said truthfully, enjoying the scent of his muscles, which were earthy and intoxicating. She moved her body with his, careful to leave breathing room between them. “I don’t like you.”

  “You like me,” he asserted. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

  “Why haven’t we gotten along?” she asked. “Besides the fact that you’re intolerable.”

  “I think it goes back to the first time we met,” he reminisced. “We were fourteen and at a rodeo in Colorado. You’d just gotten the news your mama was sick, and you sat on the fence of the corral crying. I asked if you were okay, and you pushed me down and ran off.”

  “I don’t remember that.” She was skeptical. “How could I push you down? You’re all muscle.”

  “You did. You’re strong, sweetheart. I think since that moment, you’ve always associated me with your mama’s death. I understood. It’s why I didn’t tear down the walls you built between us. And it’s why I’ve waited so long to do this.”

  He kissed her, a gentle kiss on the lips, discreet in the crowd of dancers around them, but it was a tease that ignited her, leaving her body shivering and burning for more. When it was over, she was speechless, so she rested her head against his chest, comforted in his arms.

  “You should hear the way your papa talks about you,” he told her. “He’s so proud of you.”

  “He talks about me?” she asked, surprised. “We live in two separate worlds. I can’t imagine he has a whole lot to say.”