Bearlebrity: (BWWM) Paranormal BBW Bear Shifter Romance Standalone

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Bearlebrity: (BWWM) Paranormal BBW Bear Shifter Romance Standalone Page 1

by Terry Bolryder




  Bearlebrity

  Terry Bolryder

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Bearthlete (Ryan’s Story Out Now)

  Also by Terry Bolryder

  Copyright © 2015 by Terry Bolryder

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

  Created with Vellum

  For all the fans that supported Bearllionaire!

  1

  Leslie didn’t know when the night had turned to such utter crap.

  Oh wait, yes she did. It was when Riley Hart’s ridiculous entourage insisted on flying in and taking over her small bar.

  That’s right, stupidly rich Riley Hart could simply fly in a bunch of his frat boy clinger-ons and take them out on the town to distract himself from his brother’s upcoming wedding.

  Leslie, however, as the owner of the only bar in town, ended up having to pay the true cost of entertaining them. And damn, if these Hollywood boys weren’t entitled.

  “Oh come on, let a real man show you how it’s done,” the brute pushing up against her grunted. With his sweaty, limp blond hair and his smelly body and his smelly breath, it didn’t matter that he was a minor actor friend of Riley’s. That he thought he was hot shit.

  Leslie shoved against his shoulders, testing his strength as he tried to reach her neck with his lips. “Get off me,” she muttered, leaning in close. “Or you’ll regret it in about ten seconds.”

  “Ha!” the drunk muttered, daring to raise his hand in the direction of her breast. At 5’10”, she was taller than him by nearly an inch. In her stiletto heels, it was nearly comical.

  Sighing that she had to make a scene in the hallway of her own bar, she made a quick move to swat his hand out of the way and then grabbed his shoulder and jerked him forward, placing her knee neatly and fiercely into his groin in one smooth motion.

  The man let out a little squeak as he curled forward onto the dirty floor between the restrooms, and Leslie cursed him and his friends for trashing up the place.

  Leslie brushed off her hands and turned to leave, pulling her tight, red dress back into place. It was ruched and hugged her lush curves, exposing curvy brown legs from the mid thigh down. Leslie was a curvy girl and proud of it. She used her hand to flip her dark curls over her shoulder in triumph as she walked away from the dirtbag on the floor.

  Then she felt a yank on her ankle.

  She gasped as her stiletto flipped to the side, rolling her ankle painfully, and she fell to the ground, catching herself on her hands on the sticky ground. Oh, Riley Hart would pay for this night, for his friends trashing her bar and this friend in particular trying to take liberties.

  She was used to tourists coming on to her. Sometimes she even took them up on it. She liked a little taste of adventure now and then.

  But not with douchebags like this.

  He crawled toward her, anger and menace in his eyes. She swore as she tried to regain her footing and stumbled on what was probably a severely twisted ankle. She tried to catch herself with a hand on the wall but found herself tumbling forward again. Her arms flailed out in front of her, because she was sure she was headed for the floor, and then a pair of large, strong arms was around her.

  She swallowed and looked down at the huge forearms braced under hers. At the chest that was much higher than hers. There weren’t a lot of men taller than her in this town, and most only by a few inches. There was only one man she knew of that would be at this particular bar, right now, that was tall enough to tower over her, to make her feel small.

  She swallowed resentfully and looked up into surprised, concerned hazel eyes.

  “Hello, Riley.”

  He looked her up and down with a grin, and then helped her regain her balance. She leaned on the wall to pretend her ankle wasn’t screaming. She didn’t need or want this particular man’s help. Not when all of this was his fault in the first place.

  It had nothing to do with the fact that he’d rejected her several times since meeting her, despite flirting outrageously. Yes, clearly Riley Hart thought he was better than everyone, and a local girl like Leslie would never be good enough for him.

  Then again, he was a famous movie star. A heartthrob who’d been in too many chick flicks to count the past few years.

  Still, Leslie didn’t think she was out of his league. And she had a firm sense of pride that wouldn’t let her keep putting herself out there only to be rejected.

  “Try not to trip,” she said. “The floor is sticky.”

  He eyed her carefully, noting the way she held the wall, and then tried to look over her shoulder at whomever was behind her. “Good thing I was just on my way to the bathroom. Not that I’m going to complain about you falling into my arms.”

  “Please,” she said. “As if.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “One of your entourage was getting rowdy and after I taught him a lesson he turned out to be a sore loser.”

  Riley’s handsome, boyish face darkened in anger, and he rose to his full height as he looked past her. “Who?”

  She turned to look, being gentle on her ankle. “He was right there. Probably scampered away when he saw you. Blond, skinny. Short.”

  “Short compared to normal, or short compared to us?” he asked, sharing a cocky smile with her.

  Damn, that smile could melt cold butter, she thought. “Short. Compared to me.” She folded one arm over her waist, trying to look strong when she felt anything but. Leslie’s mother, a strong, single mom, had taught her to stand on her own and not rely on men. They couldn’t be trusted.

  They were delightful, sexy creatures, but they couldn’t be counted on to stick around.

  Especially men like Riley Hart.

  “Hm. Might have been Ben? What did he do?” Riley leaned against the wall opposite her. He looked exquisite as usual tonight, his tanned, taut body on display in a fitted gray tee and designer jeans. An expensive watch accentuated his fine wrist and drew attention to long, strong fingers. She’d heard that movie stars usually looked smaller in person, but Riley Hart was definitely larger than life.

  She had to look up at him, and he seemed smug about this fact. His golden-brown hair with natural blond highlights was thick and windswept, the kind of hair that men probably took hours to tousle into place, but looked like he’d just gotten up that way.

  And that face, that unfairly handsome, rakish face that had gotten him discovered at a simple college party and led to him being on the big screen where women across the nation could lust after him. A sharp, straight nose with a hint of a bump on the ridge. Dark brows that arched over delicious hazel eyes flecked with green and gold. A slight cleft in his perfectly masculine chin. A jaw one could measure with a straight-edge. High, prominent cheekbones. He was Hollywood royalty and he knew it.

  Or at least, he was well on his way there, al
ready a household name, at least in his genre.

  “Like what you see?” he asked, arching slightly as he leaned against the wall, giving her a clear view of luscious pecs, abs that strained against his shirt, and, as his shirt lifted slightly, a light amount of golden hair, that would trail down to…

  She snapped her gaze back to him, remembering to be the fiery person she always had to be. “I’d like to see you take your entourage out of here. They’re trashing my place.”

  He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. Well, tried to, since his jeans were too tight for him to hook more than his thumbs. Damn those thick, powerful thighs. How she wanted those thighs wrapped around her. Wanted to wrap her thighs around him.

  She bit her lip and looked away, afraid he could read her mind if he caught her gaze.

  “It’s not like Ben to act that way. Was he drunk?”

  She frowned. “Does it matter?” She was a little irked that he didn’t immediately take her side.

  “I’ll pay for anything he broke,” Riley said, following her as she tried not to limp her way back to the bar. There was a stool there and she sat against it. Talia, one of her waitresses, came over to put a hand on her shoulder and asked silently with her eyes if Leslie was all right. Leslie nodded and gestured toward the tables. Talia smiled and went back out with a tray of drinks.

  “He didn’t break anything,” Leslie said, removing the heel that had twisted, to give her foot some relief.

  “You said he was rowdy. And a poor loser.”

  “I should have rephrased that. Apparently, he thought that I came with the bar.”

  Riley’s always light-hearted face went completely serious, completely still.

  “Whoa,” she said, waving her hands in front of his thunderous expression. “Hey, it’s not that big a deal. I took care of it. If he hadn’t tripped me after…”

  Riley put a hand up over his face, taking a deep breath and hissing it out like someone was about to die. “So he assaulted you, and then he tripped you after?”

  Leslie bit her lip, wondering if she should answer. She hadn’t thought the cocky, always-grinning Riley would react like this. She guessed he really had taken her literally about the rowdiness before, because he was definitely reacting differently now that he understood the rest of the story.

  “He didn’t assault me, because I got him right in the—”

  Riley cut her off with one large hand held in her direction; then, with a dark expression, he headed for the hallway they’d just come out of, taking his watch off as he went.

  Shit, Riley Hart couldn’t do stuff like this. Anyone in the world would just be waiting for a chance to sue him. She made to go after him but even after she took her other heel off, she still had to limp, and it was getting worse.

  “Wait, Riley!” she called, holding the wall and trying to follow.

  2

  The door to the men’s bathroom made a crashing noise as it was slammed open. Yelling came from inside, and then Leslie saw her attacker, pushed bodily out of the restroom where he’d been hiding by Riley, who was holding him up with one hand grasping his collar. Ben’s feet scraped the ground as he struggled to get loose, and Riley simply slammed the man against the wall, holding him even higher.

  The little guy was turning purple. Leslie bit back a smile. Had she simply left without being tripped and walking into Riley, she would have called the police and enjoyed watching them take this douche out.

  But watching world-famous, absolutely gorgeous Riley Hart defend her honor was sort of okay, too.

  “Apologize,” Riley said in a cold voice, looking back toward Leslie.

  Ben mumbled an apology. Then he said something sulky and mildly defensive that she couldn’t hear. Riley did, though, and he slammed the man against the wall again and whispered something in his ear that made the man cringe. She bet the other dude was wetting himself about now.

  Riley let the man down and then hauled him into the room and took him to the table where his entourage sat. He flung Ben into the booth and sat down to argue with the other man. She heard the smash of a beer bottle and then Riley and Ben were standing, looking eye to eye. Well, eye to chest, in Ben’s case. At 6’7”, there weren’t a lot of men who could go toe to toe with Riley Hart.

  Then Ben smashed a glass on the floor, shot Riley an evil look, and gestured for the others to follow. They trailed out sheepishly, and Riley simply folded his arms and watched them go. All three booths of them. He followed them out, and she hoped he made sure they left. There was nothing else to do in the town at night.

  And now she could close up, because there was no one else in the bar. The other patrons had left when Riley’s party came in.

  By the time Leslie had settled back on the stool by the bar, Talia was walking over with the black leather folder that held the check.

  “Of course they didn’t tip,” she said resentfully, tossing the folder on the counter. Leslie opened it and sighed.

  It wasn’t uncommon for the bar to have large groups that felt entitled to service without tipping for it. But she’d make sure and take it out of the till so that Talia wasn’t the one to suffer for it. She should have turned away Riley’s party, but there’d been nowhere else in town and Riley had begged her. Janna had seconded it. Janna was one of her closest friends in the town, and she’d said that Riley really needed some party time to cope with his brother’s pending nuptials. That his entourage would behave or Riley would manage them.

  Well, that had only been partially true.

  She took the check Talia had brought so she could start closing out the register. Then she’d have to clean up. Her ankle ached, and she wondered if the town’s urgent care was still open. Probably not, seeing as it was nearing midnight.

  The door to the bar jingled as it opened, and she looked up to see Riley walking back in. Alone. He stopped by Talia, who was putting on her coat to go out, pulled out his wallet, and put an impressively large bill in her hands. Then he gave her a quick hug (Riley seemed to be just a big teddy bear that way) and held the door for her.

  “I’m going to walk her out, okay, Les?” he called.

  Talia flushed and looked over at Leslie like she could barely believe Riley Hart was walking her to her car. Leslie grinned and tried not to roll her eyes. Sure, when she’d first seen Riley Hart walk into the Bearstone Lodge with two of his brothers who were each as hot as he was, her mouth had watered. She’d wanted her friends to go meet them, and when her friend Janna had gotten involved with Ryder Hart, the billionaire tech mogul who also happened to be Riley’s brother, Leslie had gone up to the lodge for a private dinner with them.

  It had been her, her friend Kylie, and Janna paired with Ryder, Riley, and their snowboarding, X Games–winning, not-that-interested-in-dating brother, Ryan.

  And that night hadn’t ended well.

  She’d thought it would. She and Riley had flirted throughout the night, played footsie under the table… She could still feel the ticklish caress of his shoe as it drew gently up the inside of her leg. Ah yes, she’d thought she’d be bedding a movie star that night.

  But somehow, though she had stood right there, making herself available after all of that chemistry between them, he had stood her up. Well, not exactly stood her up, because they didn’t have any set plans. But he’d stood up the plans she’d been making in her mind when he’d been teasing her with those hot hazel eyes.

  She sighed as she slammed the register shut and started wiping down the countertop. She couldn’t do the cleaning with her hurt foot, so she’d have to pay for extra cleaning crew to fix the place up tomorrow. The bell over the door jingled again. She didn’t have to look up to know it was Riley, so she kept her attention on the counter, wiping at a stain that was clearly gone by this point.

  She didn’t know what to say to him. He was a total mystery.

  “You don’t have to worry about my friends anymore,” he said, saying the word friends like it was distasteful. “I’m sorry.�


  She shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s not the first entitled gang of losers I’ve had around here, and it won’t be the last.”

  He grinned and leaned on his elbows on the counter, coming uncomfortably close. Her brow quirked as he took a maraschino cherry from behind the bar and pulled it off the stem in one fluid motion, catching it between perfect white teeth.

  “Hey, you’re going to pay for that,” she said, putting her hands on her hips as well as she could from her spot on the stool.

  “Of course I am,” he said, biting down on the cherry slowly, watching her with eyes that seemed to glow with some unknown emotion.

  She crossed her legs tight. “Good.”

  He waved a hand over the bar. “I’ll pay for all of it, and I’ll get a crew in here tomorrow. Who do you usually hire?”

  She pulled a pen from behind her ear and wrote a number on the back of a Post-it note. She handed it to him, trying to ignore the heat of his fingers as they intentionally brushed against hers.

  He looked down at the number. “Got it.” He folded it and stuck it in his pocket. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  She went back to wiping, trying to keep her long curls back and out of her face as she did. Her only hairband was in the back office, and she didn’t think she could make it there. And she’d be damned if she admitted to the great and powerful Riley Hart that she didn’t know how she was even going to get home tonight. She just hoped he’d leave before she had to try it.

  “Anything I can help with?” he asked, sitting on one of the stools across from her.

  She frowned at him. “No, just go home. I’m closing up. It’s past the posted hours anyway, and your party scared the rest off.”

  He swiped another cherry and grinned at her when she failed to stop him. “Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t call them, you know. Ryder thought I was depressed and called my friends. He doesn’t get that a celebrity doesn’t really have friends. Not that I minded having a party. I like people around. The more the better…but well…” He swallowed the cherry and looked thoughtfully at the stem. “All I can say is that you won’t see them again.”

 

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