Laid Bear (A Werebear Shifter BBW Romance)

by Marina Maddix

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  More from Marina

  LAID BEAR

  Marina Maddix

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  About This Book:

  Curvy girl Bethany Mills can't believe her good fortune when her new neighbor turns out to be devastatingly hot. But someone that gorgeous could never fall for someone like her…could he? A charming personality and appreciation for sappy music aren't the only things Maximilian Pearce is hiding, and just when Bethany thinks she might get her very own happily ever after, a shocking revelation forces her to make a heartbreaking choice.

  Bethany slowly fingered a gap in her front room’s blinds so she could peek at her new neighbor. Her landlord, a big gruff guy by the name of Chet who’d never seemed to like her much, had informed her he rented out the other side of the duplex and, oh by the way, he had someone very interested in her side if she was thinking about leaving.

  She had no idea why Chet hated her so much, but ever since he bought the rental from her former landlord several months back, he’d been hinting she should find another place to live. Fuck you, I know my rights, she thought every time he made some comment like that.

  So she was diligent about making sure her rent was on time, never a day late — even after he raised it unexpectedly — and that she never did anything he could evict her for. Heck, she even took care of most of the minor maintenance stuff in the place because it was easier than dealing with that jerk, even though it was his responsibility.

  As Bethany peered out the window, she watched Chet hovering near the bed of the new guy’s pick-up. He was a fat, hairy schlub of a man while her new neighbor was what could only be described as eye candy. Yet her landlord acted like he usually did — superior to everyone else. Yuck.

  Her new neighbor had been wearing a wife-beater — an honest-to-goodness wife-beater — when he arrived, but at some point he shed it as the heat of the day beat down on his bronzed skin. Sweat glistened on every hard curve of his torso, rivulets disappearing into the waistband of the jeans that rode deliciously low on his hips. She swiped her tongue across her dry lips, sucking her plump bottom lip between her teeth.

  God, he was hot! Bethany’s heart raced at the thought of skimming her fingers — screw that, her lips — across all those ridges and bumps. It had been so long since she’d been with a man — like, almost a year, and then it was just a rough and drunken tumble at a friend’s party. Afterward, he’d called her a fat slut and stumbled out to his beater truck. She’d heard he got a DUI on the way home and was not-so-secretly pleased.

  The memory of her last encounter brought her back into reality. She let the blinds snap closed and headed into the kitchen. Why get all hot and bothered over a guy who would never look twice at her? He looked like he should be an underwear model — probably was! — while she was big and tall and full of curves. The only guys she ever seemed to attract were either assholes or drunk, and more often than not, both.

  As she rummaged around her freezer for just the right flavor ice cream, Bethany wondered how she was ever going to find a good man and have a family. She’d grown up with three older brothers who taught her how to be tough…on the outside. Inside, she was as soft as her ample ass.

  Every rejection, every nasty comment, every disgusted look sent her farther and farther into an abyss of self-doubt and self-pity. She knew she couldn’t control other people’s reactions to her bountiful body, but she just wished that occasionally that reaction would be positive. Her friends all insisted she was gorgeous, voluptuous, Rubenesque, but she knew that was just shorthand for ‘fat’. Of course, eating Chunky Monkey out of the tub probably didn’t help matters.

  She was jolted out of her reverie when the doorbell bonged. It didn’t bing-bong, like a normal doorbell; it had broken a few months earlier and now just bonged. One more thing Chet should fix but wouldn’t. She knew before she opened the door that he would be looming there, telling her she’d done something wrong — like the time she didn’t set the garbage cans at the curb just right — and ask yet again when she was moving.

  The sight of her handsome new neighbor filling her doorway caused her throat to clench and her stomach to drop as the door swung open. Holy hell, this guy was even better up close. A sharp whiff of sweat caused her nostrils to flare. Her eyes closed as she inhaled this man’s feral scent, every bit of her body becoming highly sensitized in response. The sound of her own sigh startled her.

  “Um, hi, neighbor.” There was definitely a hint of amusement in his deep rumbling voice. Oh, shit, he caught me! A deep crimson flush spread from her chest to her blond widow’s peak.

  Bethany gulped and allowed her eyes to sweep up his rippled chest, droplets of sweat glistening in the sun, to his impossibly handsome face where they met warm brown eyes. She’d never quite seen eyes like his before, flecked with gold and…cinnamon? How was it possible that everything about this man was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen?

  It took a moment for her to realize she hadn’t uttered a word yet. “Hi,” she squeaked. More than anything she wanted to avert her gaze but it was proving impossible. She was mortified, which wasn’t an unusual state for her, but this time she’d done it to herself in front of her god-like neighbor. Yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. It was as if they were magnets locked together.

  “Just wanted to introduce myself,” he said. Thank goodness he took the initiative or they would have stood there all day, Bethany drooling all over herself, no doubt. Her gaze trailed down his bulging arm to the hand he was extending to her. Why was everything moving in slow motion?!

  “I’m Maximilian Pearce, but everyone calls me Max.”

  Even his name was perfect!

  “Uhh…” Her downfall was about to be complete because for the life of her, she couldn’t remember her own name. Brittany? Brittania? Bathilda? “Bethany… Mills.” It came out a whisper as she watched her fingers disappear into his paw of a hand.

  The amused tone was back. There was something else, too. Something deeper, more throaty. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Bethany. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other very soon.”

  With that, he turned and strode back to his truck, where Chet stood glowering at her over Max’s shoulder. Bethany was numb as she eased the door shut, her eyes never leaving his perfect retreating figure. The last thing she saw before an eggshell white wall of door blocked her view was Max glancing back over his shoulder, his lips twitching in a smile. Then he winked.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  The growl of Max’s truck driving away brought Bethany to her senses…on the floor. She’d just managed to close the door before leaning back against it and sliding into a puddle in her entryway. That was the most male interaction she’d had in months, if you didn’t count Chet (which she didn’t), and it was with the sexiest man on the planet.

  “I have to call someone!” She flicked through her mental Rolodex, frantically trying to figure out who would be as giddy as she while still sane enough to offer her sound advice. Kimmy would tell her to fuck Max’s brains out, Paul would ask if he could fuck Max’s brains out, Joanne was visiting her sick mom…Charlotte! Charlotte will be the voice of reason, Bethany thought as she scrolled through her phone’s contact list.

  “Hey,
B! How freaky is this?” Charlotte wasn’t much for pleasantries. “I was just picking up the phone to call you and invite you over for a party on Saturday. Weird, huh?”

  “Yeah, yeah, sounds good. Listen, I need some of your famous words of wisdom.”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  Bethany described her interaction with her new neighbor, not leaving out a single detail, including his epic hotness. She wandered around the apartment as she spoke, ending up in front of the bathroom mirror.

  “Ohmigod!” she screamed into the phone.

  “Shit, B! Take it down a notch.”

  Bethany wanted to cry at what she saw. A big smear of Chunky Monkey was drying near her mouth, and a dollop decorated the tip of her nose. Charlotte just laughed at the news.

  “Forget about it, B. So he’s hot, and so you had a little ice cream on your face. Big whoop. It’s not like anything can happen between you two anyway — you’re neighbors. Like gramps always said, never shit where you sleep…or eat, or something like that.”

  Scrubbing the tell-tale signs of her culinary weakness away, Bethany let her friend’s words sink in. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, a guy like him would be better suited to some hard-body like Kimmy.”

  “Girl, don’t sell yourself short. You’re a good-looking broad. A lot of guys like a girl with a little meat on her bones. Kimmy’s a stone-cold fox but she’s all hard angles, ya know? She’d probably bruise him.”

  Bethany giggled at Charlotte’s joke. She felt better. “I knew you were the right person to call, Char. Thanks.”

  “Anytime, B. So are you a yes for Saturday?”

  “Huh? Oh, sure, as long as I won’t be the only singleton there. I already feel enough like Bridget Jones without going to a couples’ party, thank you very much.”

  “Weeeeell….”

  “Oh, no, Char!”

  “C’mon, it’ll be fine. There’s only one couple you don’t know. And Paul might come. You’ll have a blast. Besides, you haven’t been over for weeks. Please say yes?”

  Charlotte knew Bethany couldn’t say no to her wheedling tone. “Fine. But I’m not bringing a goddamn thing!”

  “Yay! See you at six, then. Bye, hon!”

  Bethany carefully avoided Max for several days, either sneaking out much earlier than she needed to or waiting till she heard his truck roar off, no doubt to his underwear modeling job. The humiliation she felt at their initial meeting had eased, and she spent the intervening days convincing herself that someone so pretty just had to be a moron. Or a jerk. Probably both.

  So when they finally ran into each other taking out the trash, she only felt a slightly quicker pulse than she might have. The next morning was garbage pick-up day, and she was just smashing down the lid on the can when she heard his front door open. Thank God he’s wearing a t-shirt, she thought as she watched him approach from under her lashes.

  “Hey, neighbor,” he said, grinning at her.

  “Hi,” she mumbled, stepping out of his way and moving back toward her apartment. She tried to tell herself that she didn’t like him, but she knew she really was just afraid of embarrassing herself again.

  “Nice night, huh?”

  It would be rude to ignore him, so she stopped and muttered, “Yup.”

  “You get a lot of animals knocking over the garbage cans?”

  “Not so much.”

  “Looks like prime raccoon territory,” he said, nodding his head toward the woods behind the house. Bethany loved walking in the woods; they were one of the main reasons she put up with Chet’s crap. She couldn’t bear the thought of moving to some big apartment complex where she’d be surrounded by concrete and aluminum siding. It cost a bit more, but she made enough as a marketing assistant at an ad agency to justify — barely — the extra cost.

  “Yeah, I guess. But they haven’t bothered the cans for a while.”

  “They used to?” Despite her trumped-up loathing for the man, Bethany couldn’t help watch his biceps bulge as he forced his bag of garbage in the already-full can. She was having a hard time swallowing, much less speaking.

  “Yeah, couple times a month they’d knock them over. I’d asked the previous owner to get those pest-proof cans, but Chet bought the place before she could, so…” She shrugged.

  “What?”

  Bethany cleared her throat, unsure of whether she should bad-mouth Chet in front of Max. He seemed genuinely interested, not like he was trying to trap her or get dirt that he’d report back to Chet. But she decided to be vague anyway. “Well, I haven’t wanted to bother him with minor things like that.”

  Max surprised her by laughing. “You mean he’s an ass and getting him to do anything around here is like pulling teeth.”

  She smiled and peeked up at him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. “Something like that.”

  “Listen, I should probably tell you something.” He looked away, scuffing his foot in the driveway’s gravel. She was drawn to the naughty little boy gesture. “Chet’s, um, sorta…my uncle.”

  The color drained from Bethany’s face. Now Chet was going to hear about this conversation and really hate her. God only knew what he’d do. She took a step back from Max, frozen in place but wanting to run back to the comfort of her apartment. I knew it! she screamed to herself.

  “Whoa, hold on,” he was saying but her heart thumped so loud she barely heard him. “I just didn’t want you to find out later and think I was some kind of spy. I know what he’s like and I won’t rat you out. Honest.” He crossed his fingers and gave her a hopeful smile.

  Bethany wasn’t sure what to make of him. She’d built him up in her head to be a total asshole, but he seemed genuine and sweet, not at all like his uncle. It would be risky to take him at his word, but in replaying the scene in her head, she knew she hadn’t said anything really bad — Max had. She would just be cautious about what she said from here on out. Just in case.

  “Good?” He seemed to be making a real effort to be neighborly, plus his crooked grin was irresistible, so she smiled back.

  “Good.”

  “It’s a nice evening,” he said, looking around the neighborhood. “Could I trouble you to show me around before it gets dark?”

  Bethany eyed him. Her first instinct was to say no and hibernate in her cozy apartment, but it wouldn’t hurt to make nice with the landlord’s nephew. It also wouldn’t hurt her ego to be seen with such a bona fide hunk.

  “Um, okay. There’s not much to see, just your average neighborhood.” She shrugged and started walking, letting him catch up to her. She didn’t want to feed his undoubtedly enormous ego by fawning all over him.

  He jogged up next to her as they walked toward Mrs. Hiscock’s house. She was just taking her twin babies out from the backseat of her car so Bethany asked if she’d like a hand.

  “No, I’m fine.” Mrs. Hiscock was frazzled and obviously exhausted, but she would never let anyone help with the babies. It was like a point of pride or something.

  “Ma’am?” Max had sidled up to her slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal. And in the state she was in, Mrs. Hiscock kind of was. “I’d be honored if you would allow me to hold one of your beautiful babies.”

  Bethany almost laughed. No way was this wildly overprotective new mom going to just hand off one of her kids to this complete stranger — a man, no less. When that’s exactly what she did — with tears of gratitude in her eyes — Bethany’s jaw nearly bounced off the ground. What the…?

  “Really? I hate bothering people, you know?” While Max swayed with little Joey tucked in his arms, Mrs. Hiscock started to deploy a massive two-seater stroller.

  “Oh, you don’t need to do that, ma’am. Why don’t you and Bethany take the babies and I’ll carry your stuff in. Would that be okay?”

  Mrs. Hiscock blinked at him in surprise. “Why…that would be…wonderful,” she gushed, looking between Max and Bethany with gratitude.

  Max handed Joey off to Bethany while Mrs. Hisco
ck gathered up Janey from her car seat. When she was sure no one was watching, Bethany dipped her head to take a whiff of Joey sweet baby smell. A little sigh escaped her lips and when she looked up, Max was smirking at her.

  “Baby fever?” he whispered.

  She shot him a dark glare but couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh. “They just smell so good!”

  “Your secret’s safe with me.” The wink he gave her nearly melted her defenses.

  Once they’d seen Mrs. Hiscock and the babies in — she’d not only welcome Max to the neighborhood but given a big hug — they continued their tour.

  “Next stop, Mr. Jacob’s web site,” said Bethany imitating a train conductor.

  “What?” Max laughed.

  She waved her arm expansively to Mr. Jacob’s side yard, filled with rusted out barbecues, some leaning at alarming angles. Pretending she was crushed by the failure of her joke, she explained. “Those are all Weber barbecues. Get it? ‘Web’ site? Yuk yuk yuk.”

  Max groaned and rolled his eyes as they moved on to the Parkers place. Mr. Parker had to be about 187 years old but there he was, straining his frail body to maneuver an old toilet onto a very specific spot on his lawn. It was, in fact, the only spot that didn’t have a toilet already on it. All the rest were planted with the prettiest flowers you could ever want to see.

  “Mr. Parker, this is Max. He’s moving in next door to me.” Bethany spoke quite loudly since the old fellow was nearly deaf.

  “How do you do, sir?”

  “Not bad, not bad. Niceta meetya.” Mr. Parker eyed Max up and down for a moment. “You look plenty strong. Wanna gimme a hand here?”

  “Absolutely. Where would you like it?”

  “Right over there, next to the lavender.”

  Max effortlessly hoisted the toilet and plopped it where Mr. Parker pointed. “Good?”

  “Yeah, yeah, but I could use a hand with the dirt, iffya don’t mind.”