Bound, Branded, & Brazen by Jaci Burton

what?” Brea had come in, too. Of course. God forbid her sisters stay out of her business.
    “Town. Bar. Drinks. Pool.”
    “Ooh,” Brea said. “Awesome. Let me go change.”
    “Wait for us,” Jo said, sliding off the bed and hurrying out the door.
    She was about to object, but it would actually be fun to unwind a bit with her sisters. She needed something—anything—to get her mind off Mason. A little drinking and dancing should do the trick.
    An hour and a half later they pulled up in front of Dirk’s Downtown Dive, a misnomer since downtown was pretty much the actual town itself. The small municipality about forty minutes south of the ranch was the only town around other than Tulsa. And it was the only place to go if you didn’t want to take the two-hour drive into the city. So Dirk’s it was. And it was hopping tonight. The parking lot was full and the sometimes-worked-sometimes-didn’t neon sign was actually working tonight. A cloud of dust flew up as Jolene slid the truck into one of the last available spots in the dirt and gravel parking lot. Which meant the next customer would be parking on the grass.
    They climbed out of the truck and Valerie smoothed her shirt down over her jeans, getting used to the feel of cowboy boots again.
    Even Brea had changed out of those hideous gypsy skirts and put on a pair of jeans and boots tonight. Jolene had convinced Brea to pull her hair back in a ponytail, which had done wonders for her appearance. At least Valerie could see Brea’s face now.
    “You look like a different person,” Valerie said. “Beautiful.”
    Brea looked down at the ground. “Thanks. Maybe I’ve been neglecting myself a bit. I need to do something about that.”
    “A bit?” Jolene said, a look of shock on her face. “Christ, Brea, you look like you’ve been living in a fucking cave or something. Tomorrow’s Saturday and I’m taking you into Tulsa for a makeover. Hair, nails, pedicure, the works.”
    Brea grinned. “That might be fun.”
    Valerie elbowed Brea. “You just want to look hot for Gage.”
    Her sister blushed under the neon lights. “Dear God, Val. I do not.”
    “Liar,” Jolene said, pulling the heavy wooden door open. “Now, let’s party.”
    The bar was noisy, smoky, and crowded as hell. With lots of cowboys and very few women.
    Perfect.
    Of course Jolene knew everyone and shouted out greetings as they wound their way to the bar. She ordered beers while Valerie rustled up a table, which wasn’t difficult since most of the guys were off playing pool or standing around talking to one another. A few were dancing with some of the women, but so far the small dance floor remained sadly uncrowded.
    Valerie aimed to change that. There were a lot of men present, and she intended to dance with as many of them as she could.
    They took seats at the table and Valerie surveyed the scene. Not much had changed at Dirk’s since she’d last been here. The scarred wood floor was still covered in sawdust and discarded peanut shells. The long bar was littered with beer bottles, some filled, some empty. Raucous country music played—no, that wasn’t quite right—it blared loud and hard, the heavy bass thumping with a wham wham wham she felt in her chest. The thwack of pool balls could be heard above the noise since several games were going on, followed by either a loud groan or a hoop and a holler when someone sank a shot.
    And it was still early. The real action wouldn’t happen before ten P.M.
    “This place is hoppin’ already.” Jolene scooted her butt onto a stool and slid the beers onto the table. “Great idea, Val.”
    Valerie took a long drink and nodded. “I figured we could all stand to get out of that house.” Or at least she could. Two days and she was already suffocating in there. Being at Dirk’s was easy. She could blend in, wasn’t the center of attention.
    Not until the door opened and Mason walked in with a bunch of the guys from the ranch. And everyone in the