Bear Pause (BBW / Bear Shifter Romance): A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance (Bear Fursuits Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page B

back to her own desk. She left Laura’s door open. Laura retrieved her computer and settled in to handle the transport of Boadicea Pride of Kentucky to the Bascom Quarter Horse Stud. Horse breeding she understood. Laura breeding, not so much.
    * * *
    Steve hadn’t quite finished shifting the manure when Diego came back out.
    “You can knock off to eat,” the foreman informed him. “I’ll show you where to wash up. You can finish up after lunch.”
    The stable washroom was at the back of the central stable block. The washroom had a couple of showers in addition to the usual commodes and urinals. The white basins were sparkling clean and the water was hot. Despite the gleaming white tiles, the rich scent of horses hung in the air. Steve washed up and put his tee-shirt and vest back on. He was still too warm for his wool shirt and jacket.
    He came out of the washroom with his stuff over his shoulder, ready to meet Diego. A blast of icy air carried the delicious fragrance of a woman. Subtler but more powerful than the scent of horse. Every hair on the back of Steve’s neck stood up and cheered. His heart stuttered. Boots stamped on the mat by the exterior doors. The sweetest, sexiest contralto in the world called cheerfully, “Hey, Carlos.”
    Steve stopped cold. He stared as a tall, buxom woman unzipped her bright red parka and stripped off her gloves and sunglasses. She went to the first stall and crooned to the horse inside who lipped her shoulder while she fumbled in her pockets. Her shapely hand came out with a treat which she held out flat-palmed to the great head. She scratched the white blaze between the big brown eyes with her other hand.
    “How’s it going, Dakota?” she murmured to the horse as if she was addressing a lover.
    “This here is Steve Holden,” Carlos said to the woman. He turned to Steve. “Ms. Bascom owns this place. I’m trying him out,” he told the woman.
    Ms. Bascom turned and nodded at Diego. Her eyes evaluated Steve but she did not speak or smile. Steve swallowed. Between the twilight of the stable and the broad-brimmed Stetson she was wearing, he couldn’t make out Laura Bascom’s features at all. But it didn’t matter. Whatever she looked like, she smelled exactly right.
    “Hello, ma’am,” he managed as his heart restarted. More than a decade of looking at women in their standard issue fatigues had taught him to recognize a fine rack even when it was concealed by a bulky outfit. Ms. Laura Bascom was blessed with some righteous curves. She was one hundred percent woman, and unless he much mistook the matter, she was his own personal fate.
    Laura, however, appeared unfazed by their meeting. She nodded vaguely at Steve. “Howdy,” she said politely and returned to petting the lucky horse.
    Steve shut his mouth. There was never anything attractive about drooling. “Where do we eat, Mr. Diego?” he asked when he regained control of his vocal cords.
    * * *
    “You can bunk in with the cowpunchers,” Diego said at lunch. He and Steve were sitting in the kitchen of the Big House eating as fast as Diego’s wife, who was the ranch cook, could fill their plates. “We got us a big bunkhouse and it ain’t full. Comes with the job. Or you can have the little cabin next to our house. There’ll be rent to pay for that one.”
    “I’d be happier on my own,” admitted Steve. “But surely someone who has been here longer would be wanting his own place?”
    “Nope,” Diego said. “That cabin is right alongside of our house. Most of the hands don’t cotton to living so close to the foreman.”
    Rosa brought them another platter of steak strips and a fresh basket of tortillas to wrap around them. “You take that little cabin, Steve, and you eat your meals here or at our house.” Her black eyes twinkled, and she called a command in Spanish to one of the three girls helping her in the kitchen. Teresita scurried over with more salsa and sliced limes.
    “That’s very kind of you,