Chapter 2
Dawson
The Bear Den was my stomping ground.
And I was a Friday night regular.
When I was younger, I’d go there on a mission to pick up a woman. But these days it was more about seeing my friends and celebrating the end of another work week. Almost like a ritual.
Max, the owner of the Bear Den, was behind the bar tonight.
“Let me grab the usual,” I told him as I slid up to the bar.
I was a cheap fucker, so every Friday I’d order myself a Budweiser. One early in the evening, and another around the midway point. It was the cheapest beer on the menu, and I could get in and out for under ten bucks once I included a tip. Not bad for a night’s entertainment.
Tonight looked like it was starting off just like any other Friday night.
It was cold outside, still winter. But inside these walls, you’d never know.
Some of the younger local girls giggled and looked my way as I sauntered over to my buddy, Wade.
He’d been kicked out of this place for destroying one of the booths a while back. But Max had recently lifted his ban, so now we could be drinking buddies again.
But before I could sit down with my brew at his booth, one of those young girls got bold and tugged on the hem of my flannel.
I turned around to a flutter of eyelashes and a hopeful look. “You want to hit the dance floor with me, cowboy?”
“Naw. I’m too old for you, little girl. And I’m not a cowboy. I’m a mountain man. Go find one of those young punks over there. They’ve been checking you and your friends out since I walked in the door.”
Sometimes this place got inundated with women who’d just recently reached the legal drinking age. And my appetite for that had shifted as I’d gotten older. I wasn’t into the young ones like that.
These days, a sweet ass didn’t catch my eye. I wasn’t exactly sure what would. But I imagined it would be a woman who was as responsible as me. One who didn’t get caught up in silly things.
And that was surprisingly hard to find.
I was too old for drama. And too cheap for most women.
That was fine, because I didn’t feel like picking up someone’s tab through life. I could make a dollar stretch, and women, at least a lot of them, seemed to know how to spend my money faster than I could make it.
Which was why Wade made such good company. Now he’d picked a sensible wife for himself. Aster was from Red Oak Mountain, born and raised, and she was as solid as they came.
I wouldn’t mind finding a woman like her. Hardworking, honest, salt of the earth.
One thing was for sure. My woman wouldn’t be wearing hundred-dollar pink cowgirl boots like the tiny young thing who’d just tried to get me out on the dance floor.
Besides… I preferred a little more meat on my women.
“There’s been a bear out at the state park getting a little too friendly with the tourists,” Wade told me.
“Are we going to need to catch a bear?”
“Yup. We were thinking about doing it next Sunday. You want to join in?”
Every now and then a bear got a mite bit too friendly. And we locals would go out and shake the bushes, guiding him to a bear-sized culvert trap. Then we’d transfer the cranky beast out to Newton County where it wouldn’t do any harm to people.
“Yeah. I can show up,” I rumbled.
Wade nodded and sipped his beer. “Good.”
We were the slow-sipping crew these days. A few of our other friends would join us later. Most of them were married off at this point. I was one of the last single holdouts.
A gust of wind blew through the bar as a new group arrived, and the door swung open.
I glanced their way, casually taking in the group. It was a bunch of women all decked out in cowboy crap. Lately even the college girls from Fernwood had been jumping in on that trend.
I’d be happy when everyone forgot about us country folk again and left us to live in peace.
“There should be a rule that you have to show up with a local to get into this place,” I muttered as I lifted my Budweiser to my lips. Too many people had been filtering in lately.
Wade chuckled. “You’ve just been cranky ever since you lost out on that pickup truck at the auto auction.”
My friend knew me too well. “Yup. She was a beaut.”
“You should have bid the extra thousand.”
I’d set a hard limit. And I liked to stick to those limits, even though I’d been kicking myself ever since.
“Naw. Something else will come along,” I told him.
Although its leather seats had set my pulse beating harder. That pickup truck had little heaters in the seats to warm your butt on cold days. I’d really wanted those heaters in my seats.
The ladies who’d just walked in were loud, laughing and giggling, looking all around as they descended on Max at the bar.
One of them sure was a looker.
Hot damn.
My eyes trailed her as she ponied up to the counter.
Throw away everything bad I’d ever said about pink cowgirl boots. She was decked out in a pair that highlighted her skintight jeans in just the right way.
Would you look at the ass on that?
She was a plumper. My kind of woman.
There were plenty of love handles to hold on to while riding a woman like that.
I felt my cock stir to life as I studied her.
She had loose, wavy hair tucked under a matching cowgirl hat, and a t-shirt that was two sizes too tight that said ‘Howdy Cowboy’.
Wade snickered. “You might want to close your mouth, Dawson. You’re going to catch flies.”
But I didn’t care. I needed to get a closer look at that woman.
I got up and sauntered over to the bar, rumbling over my shoulder, “See you later, Wade. I’ve got some business at hand.”
I heard him chuckle behind me. “I bet you do, Dawson. See you next week.”