One in a Billion Bear ~ Brady: Book 1 (A BWWM BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Werebear New Adult Romance)
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One in a Billion Bear ~ Brady
Book 1
By Caelia Portier
Copyright 2015 Love Bones Publishing
Amazon Edition
Published By
Adult Content Warning: This work contains adult content for those aged eighteen (18) or older only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and language, not for the weak of heart, which may be considered offensive. If you consider these subject matters offensive, please do not read any further. All sexually active characters depicted in this work are aged eighteen (18) or older, unrelated by blood, and are consenting adults.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s wild imagination and/or are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
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One in a Billion Bear~ Brady
Book 1
The heavy rain quickly died down, just as it had started, and I sat in my mother’s bed feeling like the universe somehow knew I needed to be able to go outside again, to breathe in some fresh air after walking half-dazed through the dim, silent house and ending up sitting on Mom’s rose-printed quilt. My fingers traced the stitches of their own accord.
“This is so strange,” I said to the vaguely cigarette smoke tinged air. I got up and went outside. The tree line of Mom’s property was blanketed in a warm, hazy fog. It looked romantic and ominous, both at the same time. A chill ran through me, and thought about going inside to grab a sweater. It was much warmer even at the airport, but up the mountain was entirely different.
If I stay here, I’ll have to sell my car and buy a truck. And where does she buy groceries? Or did. Where did she buy groceries....
My heart sank and I felt full of regret. Is it possible to lose someone without any regrets? Even in death, Mom had managed to be kind and generous. She gave me all seventy-eight acres of her land and the rental cabins she owned.
I know you have had many difficulties, and, believe it or not, when I was your age I went through similar things. That’s why I came to the woods, to the mountain. It will restore you.
Now here I am, standing on her porch. Feeling like a person who found a life raft just as the boat was sinking. It was too late to tell her that she was right.
I saw a pack of cigarettes on the small table next to a lawn chair under the porch awning and impulsively decided to smoke one. It was warming. Or maybe that was the memory of Mom sitting in this very chair she painted bubblegum pink and the silly bullfrog ashtray she probably bought at the flea market.
After spending hours going through boxes and boxes of paperwork, photographs, miscellaneous garbage, and mementos from her childhood, I realized I was both exhausted and ravenous. I walked into Mom’s kitchen and knew immediately there was no way I was going to cook anything that night.
As I looked for my keys and my shoes, I tried to remember what restaurants I passed on my way to the mountain. Fast food chains mostly. Ugh. Then I remembered a somewhat sketchy looking bar. They would also have greasy junk food, but at least there would be alcohol.
I looked myself over in the mirror before going, suddenly not wanting to look like a total mess on my first outing. I had dressed to be comfortable for the flight - dark purple leggings with a long light brown tunic belted at my waist to accentuate my curves and brown leather ankle boots. Nothing fancy. Not quite so “California”, thankfully. The last thing I wanted was a bunch of people staring at me. A young woman with a dark complexion, who was probably already quite out of place on this desolate mountain....
As soon as I entered the bar, I started to wonder if I was wrong about my outfit. Men kept turning and looking at me, smiling and saying pleasantries, dripping with sexual suggestivity. The women with them were looking me over critically, and as soon as I saw an empty stool by the bar I nervously sat down, no longer wanting to be on display.
I would have assumed it was because of my size, as I often did in San Diego, but many of the women at the bar were curvy, like me, though not quite as tall. I regretted my heeled boots. I was at least a few inches taller than everyone around me.
“What can I get you, honey?”
A petite and curvaceous blond with bright blue eyes stood across the bar from me. She looked tired, but it didn’t distract from her beauty. She smiled politely while waiting for me to answer.
“Oh, um, I haven’t been here before so—”
“Ha, no kidding,” she interrupted and laughed.
My face felt hot, and I smiled back sheepishly. “Jack and Coke, please. And you serve food here, right?”
“You could call it that. I’ll grab you a menu.” She smiled a bit wickedly and quickly turned to her work. I wondered idly if we might become friends. She seemed cool.
While I waited, I tried not to look uncomfortable or insecure. Everyone was dressed even more casually than me and I felt out of place.
Suddenly I distinctly felt a presence behind me and saw peripherally a very tall person move slightly to my right. Normally I would have been immediately repelled, inwardly rolling my eyes at the impending flirtation. Hey baby. Barf. But I felt a strange electricity in my bones shooting in all directions. It had a peculiarly paralytic effect.
“Are you trying to disappear?” I heard a deep, sexy voice ask, with a hint of playful mockery.
It was startling even though I knew he had been standing there. Stupidly I blurted out, “Who me?” as I turned toward the voice.
The voice came from a very tall, muscular man wearing well-worn jeans and a tight dark grey t-shirt with an unbuttoned navy flannel layered over it. Not a look I would see often back in San Diego. When I dared to look at his face, I found it warm and inviting, nothing mean-spirited about his playfulness. Just when I thought the ferocity in his grey eyes was disarming, his smile broadened a bit with genuine pleasure, and I instantly felt like I’d do anything to keep seeing that smile.
I tried to think of something witty to say, but instead offered timidly, “Oh, is it that obvious?”
Just then the bartender came back with my drink and a menu. Typical fare. Nachos, chicken wings, cheeseburgers, french fries.
“I guess…um…a cheeseburger,” I said in defeat.
“Could I have another beer, Crista,” the handsome stranger asked.
“You got it.” Crista nodded and went off to get the beer and the cheeseburger.
I sat drinking my Jack and Coke hoping he’d think of something to say. I’m so bad at this. I cringed.
“Brady.” As he said it, he extended his large hand, which was warm and firm when I took it.
“Penelope,” I said.
Brady and I smiled at each other just a little too long, and I pulled my hand away, embarrassed. I felt like I was back in ninth grade and had just been approached by the senior star quarterback.
I intentionally tried to regard him with detachment, to be less responsive to his questions, which wasn’t too hard since I’m so damn socially awkward. Brady asked me how long I’d been in town, how long I’d be staying, and he seemed really pleased to hear that I was planning to move here.
“What brings you here specifically?” Brady asked. Was he being a bit too intrusive?
“Um, well, my mother passed away, and she left me some property on the mountain. And…well, there’s not really anything keeping me in San Diego.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Penelope,” Brady said with a look of concern.
I was surprised at how genuine he sounded, as though we were already friends and had been for a very long time. I liked the way my name sounded as he said it. Comforting. Soothing. Safe.
To lighten the mood I added, “Although, I don’t know anything about living on a mountain! I’ll probably die of Chipotle withdrawal! Or never figure out how to make a fire and freeze to death during winter!”
“I’d be happy to help you adjust. I think you’ll find the forest and mountain to be restorative,” Brady said earnestly, ignoring my jest. The words hit me hard, remembering my mom’s last letter.
Brady leaned close to me, as though he was imparting sacred knowledge, and his eyes burned. I thought he might kiss me and, despite myself, I looked down at his lips, which were parted slightly, like mine. Was his pulse racing, too? I swallowed hard. What was it about this creature?
I leaned back and pretended to be interested in the last third of my burger still uneaten. Still starving, I wanted to wolf it down, but my nerves over powered my growling stomach.
Brady blinked, as though attempting to wake up, and then took a large swig of his beer. I couldn’t help notice his hands again. They had a certain elegance about them, despite the thickness of his fingers and the calluses.
When Brady looked back at me, there was a peculiar sharpness in his eyes, not threatening, but determined. As though he was saying, with excitement, Challenge accepted.
I looked away quickly, because everything below my navel was tightening and I was afraid that I was blushing. I squirmed slightly in my chair and realized I gave myself away regardless. I looked up to see his face, and he was smiling, a smile that broadened as I looked at him, revealing his perfect white teeth, and slightly over large canines.
Crista and I became friends quickly. She is confident, feisty, no-nonsense, and her southern accent is like melting butter. Without her presence in the house, I’m not sure I could survive sorting my mom’s possessions, cleaning her house, and getting to know the area. As much as I wanted to escape San Diego, this new life was far from easy to slip into and, frequently, Crista knew exactly what to say to get me laughing and hopeful again.
More often than not, I found myself thinking about Brady. We talked for a while about his life here, about my plans, and we were having such an easy conversation, despite the sexual tension, that I was glad when he offered his phone number. Call me if you need anything, he had said. Stress on ‘anything.’ I knew he meant it.
It was nice to interact with a man who was clearly interested in me, but also wasn’t taking absolutely every opportunity to get in my pants. Yet, every time I considered calling, the intensity of his storm-colored eyes made my stomach knot.
So I didn’t call him. Not even when Crista pushed me to call.
Surprisingly, Crista didn’t know much about him aside from him being kind of a “Jack of All Trades” up on the mountain, occasionally working at the bar when extra help was needed, working on people’s houses, and the like. I knew all about that already.
What I didn’t know was that, according to Crista, Brady’s family was beyond wealthy. Billionaires in fact, and that he did these “odd jobs” for basically free. Why? According to Crista, because he enjoyed spending time with the people of the mountain town.
And then Crista told me something that wasn’t quite as impressive. She told me that Brady was pretty exclusively interested in flings. Usually with out-of-towners, people just passing through, visitors.
When she said that, my heart sank a bit. So he thought I would just be a quick fuck. I knew it.
Crista looked at me sternly, cocking her head to the side and pursing her lips. “Look, it was probably a good thing you didn’t sleep with him, but maybe you need to get laid. It’s unhealthy to go without sex for too long. I mean, look at me. Strong as an ox and pretty as a princess,” she said with that glorious southern accent. “That’s ‘cause I take my medicine.” She said this last part with a smirk and a wink.
I laughed and resumed sorting the contents of Mom’s kitchen. There’s nothing wrong with just having some fun, but it’s so hard for me to feel comfortable with a man that I can’t just go around having one-night stands.
I looked at Crista. Her body type was similar to mine except that she’s a lot shorter, and I wondered where she gets her confidence. She never appeared concerned about her weight, or about what anyone thinks of her. If someone called her fat, she’d probably knock them on their ass. I envied Crista for her confident curvy-girl attitude.
When I sighed, Crista promptly threw a dirty wet rag at me. Between her and the photograph of Mom in the living room, I might actually be able to make a life for myself here.
Occasionally, I looked at the number in my phone, the name ‘Brady’ immediately making me feel safe and excited about this unknown territory I faced. Not only the mountain, but within myself….
Mornings typically started the same almost every day. Coffee, light breakfast, sort through mom’s seemingly endless possessions, and prepare to begin renting out the cabins. But this morning, things started out a bit different.
While drinking my coffee and looking out the window, I caught sight of something large moving just around the side of the house. My heart immediately began to race, and I practically spilled my coffee all over the floor.
Quickly, I put it down and ran to the other windows, looking for whatever it was—a person? A bear? An unknown forest monster?
Then there it was. Walking upright on my porch. It appeared to be curious about the house. I knew my mom fed deer, did she feed bears too? Would it try to break in? Oh god, I hoped I had locked the doors. Could it break a window? My heart raced.
Agitation built quickly inside me, and without thinking, I found my phone and called Brady. My hands shook. He picked up immediately.
“Penelope. Is everything okay? It’s so early.”
“Um, I guess? I don’t know. I’m sorry for calling so early, it’s just… it’s probably silly…”
“Tell me. It’s okay,” Brady said reassuringly.
“There’s…um…a bear on my porch and it’s not leaving!”
Suddenly the tension was palpable, even before he spoke.
“Stay inside, and I’ll be right over.”
He hung up the phone before I could think to ask anything. I heard that black bears are not a huge threat, and mom certainly never mentioned anything happening. You never hear about a black bear mauling someone to death in their own bathrobe. You just give them space, right? So why was Brady so concerned?
It wasn’t long before I heard a vehicle drive up, the engine cut, and a door close. I ran to the sliding glass doors leading to the porch and saw the bear standing up on its hind legs watching Brady approach.
As Brady got closer, the bear roared and I had the terrifying sensation that I was going to watch Brady be killed. Oh my god. And it would totally be my fault!
My mind was manic about what to do, but just as I had my hands on the door, the bear got down on all fours, turned running, and disappeared into the tree line. Brady hadn’t moved at all, he just stood there with his whole body rigid, his hands in fists at his side. He turned and looked directly at me, and his eyes looked ruthless and fierce. They now had a certain gold glint to them that pierced through me.
This unfamiliar look from Brady made me hesitate to open the door and rush out to him, as I had wanted to do. However, I hesitantly and slowly opened the door as he approached, taking large and fast steps, and his eyes looked me up and down be
fore settling back on my face, where they softened slightly.
“I’m sorry, Penelope.”
“What are you sorry for? It’s not like you control the bears. Or maybe you do since you got him to leave so soon. That was incredible!”
Brady looked at me dubiously, as though there was something he wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Don’t ever try that. Just stay in your house and call me if that happens again, okay?” His voice was stern, like a parent’s. It irritated me, but I could tell he meant well, that he was just concerned.
“Trust me, I won’t be strolling outside if there’s a bear out there.” I looked back toward the tree line, and there was no sign of the bear.
When I looked back at Brady, who was still awkwardly standing right outside the door, I noticed him looking down at my body. I was wearing a white cotton tank top and pale blue cotton shorts with little cat faces on them, and nothing else. I would never wear this in public and was instantly mortified. I felt practically naked.