Bound, Branded, & Brazen by Jaci Burton Page A

place smiled and waved at him.
    Then all eyes turned to her.
    In an instant, whether she liked it or not, they’d all made the connection.
    In their eyes, she still belonged with Mason. To Mason.
    She’d see about that, would show them she belonged to no man. She downed the first bottle of beer in three swallows, slid off the stool and, ignoring Mason, marched her way to the bar and ordered another round.
    “You’d better keep them coming,” she told Sandy, the bartender. “It’s going to be a long night.”
    Beers in hand, she went back to the table, keeping her focus on her sisters, who both gazed at her with much amusement.
    “Fuck off,” she said as she took her seat.
    “The whole place is looking at you,” Jolene said with a smirk as she continued to sip from her first bottle of beer.
    Valerie shrugged. “Let them. Nothing to see here.” And she still hadn’t looked at Mason, had no idea where he even was. Hopefully he’d spotted her and left.
    No such luck. As soon as she scanned the pool area, there he was, shooting a game of eight ball with Gage, Walker and Sporty. He wasn’t watching her.
    Good. Because she had every intention of pretending he wasn’t there. He had his life, and she had hers. The two of them were completely separate now. And it was about damn time everyone came to grips with that fact.
    “You know, for someone who claims to have no interest in Mason, you sure are watching him a lot.”
    Valerie’s gaze shot to Brea. “I am not. I just want to make sure he doesn’t come over here.”
    “Uh huh.”
    Valerie downed her second beer. Just in time, too, because Sandy sent over another one. Valerie unscrewed the top and began to drink.
    “You keep guzzling them like that and we’ll have to pour you into the truck,” Jolene said.
    Valerie rolled her eyes. “Please. I can drink both of you under the table.”
    “Is that right?” Jolene signaled for Sandy and held up three fingers. In short order, the bartender appeared with a tray and three shot glasses filled to the rim with amber liquid.
    Valerie glared at Jolene. “You did not.”
    “Let’s see you drink me under the table with beer and shooters.”
    “Bitch.”
    Jolene laughed. “Quit whining and knock it down.”
    She did. An hour, two more shots and four beers later, she was feeling free and giddy and ready to dance. The bar was packed solid and she was damn sure there’d be at least one if not a dozen cowboys eager to take her up on her offer to sweat some of this alcohol out of her system on the dance floor.
    “I’m off to pick up a man.”
    “You sure you’re gonna make it?” Jolene asked.
    “Please. I’m barely warmed up.” She hitched herself off the bar stool and made a slow trek through the throng of hot bodies now crowding the dance floor, though she didn’t do it in a straight line. Damn whiskey.
    When she reached the other side, she kept herself from licking her lips at the slabs of male flesh occupying the game area.
    Was there anything sexier than hot cowboys in Stetsons, boots, T-shirts and blue jeans? She didn’t think so. Now she just had to zero in on one available guy, grab him and take a twirl.
    Deciding steering clear of the guys from the Bar M would be the wisest choice, she chose one leaning against the far wall. He wasn’t playing pool, just drinking a beer and watching the action. He watched her approach with definite interest in his eyes.
    Oh yeah. He would definitely do. She made sure to use her sexiest saunter to keep that interest. His smile lit up when she stopped in front of him.
    “Hey,” she said.
    “Hey yourself, darlin’. What are you up to tonight?”
    She hooked her thumbs in her belt hoops, realizing how rusty she was at this flirting thing. “Just kicking back and relaxing. How about you?”
    “Same.” He laid his beer on a nearby table and held out his hand. “I’m Cody.”
    “Valerie. Nice to meet you, Cody.”
    “You’re not from around here, are