by Ruby Forrest
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Matched with the Bear
A Shifter Dating Agency Romance
Ruby Forrest
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WARNING: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY.
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Copyright 2018 by Ruby Forrest - All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Matched with the Bear
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Matched with the Bear
Chapter 1
Bronte Welch couldn’t look away from the scene that was laid out in front of her. Her boyfriend (now ex-boyfriend) was currently spread-eagled overtop some kind of Latina woman, if the toned and tanned legs sticking out from underneath his own hairy ones were any indication.
His carefully colored head turned towards her, his body staying put where it was, looking like some kind of macabre doll. “Brontie?”
“Don’t call me that,” she replied reflexively. She hated that nickname. It’s not like anyone besides Adair really called her that. God, Adair, she thought. Talk about precocious names. Her boyfriend’s parent clearly had a misappropriated sense of style.
He started to wiggle off his dark-haired guest. Bronte put up a hand to stop him. “No, no. Don’t get up for me, baby. Just stopped by the house to pick up my samples. Don’t let me interrupt you.”
She put on a fake smile that would’ve made her mother proud and picked up swatches that were tacked to the foam board in the corner of the room. “Carry on.”
She saw both of their heads turn, and they looked incredulously at her and her smile grew a little bit bigger. “Also, since this is your house, I’ll just go ahead and grab my things and get out of your hair. Enjoy your day, Adair.”
She walked directly to the guest bedroom, threw the clothes she’d been keeping there for the past year in her suitcase, and stalked out. Adair was still just putting on his clothes in the master when she walked by and she threw him a killer smile and an extra booty shake. There. Let him see what he’s going to be missing.
She closed the front door softly, denying the urge to slam it so hard his perfectly placed pictures fell off the wall. Asshole.
On her drive home, she bought Cosmo, a pint of ice cream, and three bottles of wine. She thought about calling her girlfriends, but decided that they didn’t need to hear about her latest trials and tribulations, especially with Adair, someone everyone seemed to love. Heck, even she’d fallen for the charming businessman from Portland. He was good looking, suave, and successful. He’d treated her like a princess. Well, up until the part where he’d screwed a woman in their bed just a half hour after she’d left for work. That had definitely put a damper on the current progress of their relationship.
As soon as she got back to her apartment (the same one that thankfully she’d kept paying rent on, even after Adair told her it was foolish), she turned on Clueless and waited for the high of young love to flow over her. If Alicia Silverstone in yellow plaid and thigh-high tights could get her man, then Bronte could too. At least, that was the mentality.
When her oven indicated it was preheated for her frozen pizza, she put it in the oven, paused the movie, and absent-mindedly flipped through the pages of Cosmopolitan. Her gaze landed on an advertisement for a dating agency. She snorted. Who used a dating agency these days?
But as she read further, she understood the draw to it. This one specialized in high-end clientele. Sick of users, abusers, and losers? Contact us today. All applicants considered. Her mind raced as she waited for the pizza to cook. She wasn’t really considering this, was she?
She turned the page and saw the back of the advertisement. Then picked up the phone and made an appointment to meet with someone to ‘qualify’ her as an applicant.
The magazine stayed open on the quartz island as she took her finished pizza back over to the white couch. A handsome guy with an expensive 3-piece suit from the pages of the magazine stared up at the ceiling, the text asking who wanted to find a love that was lasting.
***
Brett Hardy sighed, and fidgeted in the uncomfortably fancy chair that did nothing for his 6’5 height and solid frame. “So, what do you do for work, Betsy?”
The petite Asian whose real name was most certainly not Betsy, giggled again and batted her eyes. “I’m a dancer.”
No doubt the exotic kind based on the cut and style of her ‘dress’, but Brett had no interest in finding out more about her. He’d only asked to make him seem polite. He could tell from the first look at her that Betsy was never going to be the one he was looking for. She was giggly, slutty, and had zero to offer to any conversation. He’d blow his brains out after an entire day with her and some of his business events could last twelve hours or longer.
He sighed for what felt like the millionth time but Betsy luckily (or unluckily) hadn’t caught on to his zero interest in her and kept batting her huge fake eyelashes. “Interesting.”
“So you own…a company?” She tittered, although there was no reason to laugh at all. His only guess was that she wanted him to know that she had white teeth. Congrats.
“I own quite a few companies actually. That’s what I do – I own and manage companies.” He waved over the black and white server to pour him another overpriced scotch. He was going to need it.
“Like Richard Gere?”
“Sorry?” He asked, confused. Had she officially lost her mind? What did he have to do with an actor?
“In Pretty Woman. You know, Richard Gere, Julia Roberts.” She swirled her fruity drink, sucking on the cherry in a way that was probably s
upposed to turn him on. But didn’t.
“Yeah, sure,” he immediately agreed, trying to be complacent. He had no idea what she was talking about and just wanted her whiny voice to stop. He glanced down at his blank phone on the table. “Oh shoot, my secretary just text me that something urgent has come up and I’m going to have to leave. I’m so sorry about this.”
He stood up and grabbed his suit jacket from the chair. He offered her a hand when he noticed she hadn’t stood up. When she didn’t take it, he raised an eyebrow at her. “No?”
She smiled up at him, her pearly whites shining through her painted red mouth. “I have another date coming in shortly, so if you don’t mind…I’ll just wait here tonight. And don’t forget to reschedule our date for another time.”
His hand dropped to his side, disgusted. Seriously? This was what it had come to? A date with an exotic dancer who had planned multiple dates for her evening? Shaking his head, he walked away from the table and the ritzy dining area. He needed a different tactic.
His first stop was the dating agency. He demanded to talk to the owner, Lila, even though it was seven o’clock at night. He figured, like any good owner, she’d still be in the stages of living and breathing at that agency to make a go of it, and his betting paid off – she was still there.
He sat down across from her black lacquered desk. “We have to discuss my…options.”
She took a sip of her mineral water, sitting taller in the stylish high-backed chair. “Did Betsy not work out for you?”
“Or Tia, DeeDee, Ivory, or Marisa. Shocking that absolutely none of them worked out for me, Lila.”
She hmmm’d and then grabbed her file. She reviewed it for a few seconds. “Can I ask you what you’re looking for then?”
“I need someone that I can bring to business functions. Someone that does not look like or aspire to be a hooker.” He tried to think of all the things that had drove him crazy on the last four dates he’d been on, but there was so many. So many things to choose from.
“Well, I can do some additional screening and give you someone of substance. More substance, I guess I should say. Do you have any requirements for their positions?” She started to jot down things on a gold-covered notebook and metallic gold pen.
“The job isn’t my only requirement, but the answer is yes to something of substance. Definitely, yes. Work is a big part of my life and I want it to be a big part of hers too, however, she has to understand that my events come first so it can’t be something where she can be called away at any point.” He took a deep breath. “I need someone that understands that I’m not looking for romance and a pair of rocking chairs on a front porch. This would be a business relationship that crossed over into somewhat personal areas.”
Her pen stopped moving. “So basically, you do want an escort, just not one that is or acts like an escort. Is she going to need to sleep with you?”
“No, no, no. I don’t need an escort. Just a professional woman that will agree to a marriage, but not ask a lot of questions.” He tried to think of any other requirements, but he didn’t want to limit her search. He knew what he was asking for was a tall order, so he didn’t want to say “blonde, beautiful, and smart” too, but that’s really what he wanted. Be nice if she had some curves too, but the list had to stop somewhere or he’d be alone the rest of his life.
Lila stayed quiet for a moment. “I’m going to have to open it back up to other applicants then. We had you pegged for a different…market.”
He nodded, thinking back on Betsy. Clearly a very different market. “I understand. Take as much time as you need, as long as it’s in the next day or two.”
Lila laughed, but her laughter died in her throat when she saw his serious face. “Of course. And, as always, we’re appreciative of your donations to our agency and will make you our top priority.”
He stood up, brushing away the invisible wrinkles in his expensive suit. He shook hands with Lila, wished her well, and then got into the Cadillac that was waiting for him at the front of the building.
***
Bronte crossed and uncrossed her legs, wondering for the millionth time if she’s chosen the wrong thing to wear. She had wanted to be sexy without looking like a stripper. She’d finally chosen a high-waist gray skirt with buttons and a slit up the back. Her shirt was a perfectly respectable blush colored tank, except for the fact that it was see-through, and her nude tank shown through like an optical illusion. She had a gray, blush pink, and pale yellow checked bag from Kate Spade, and her favorite part of the outfit…her blush pink and gray trimmed Jimmy Choo wedges. She had felt powerful, sexy, and very desirable, but now that she’d been sitting on the same chair for the past ten minutes, she was questioning her choices. Maybe she should’ve worn something plainer. Or more? Truth was, she had no idea what one was supposed to wear to a meeting with a dating agency. They didn’t go over that in Cosmo.
Finally, a beautiful brunette in six-inch heels came up to her. “Bronte?”
Bronte stood, still towering over the woman, even with her tall heels. “Yes.”
The brunette offered her hand, complete with burgundy stiletto nails. “I’m Lila, the owner here. Sorry about the wait, we’re just a little backed up today, but Miranda, my assistant, assured me that you’re someone I would want to talk to.”
Bronte smiled, liking her direct attitude right away. “That’s great to hear. Truth is, I’m still a little bit uncomfortable with this whole thing, but I’m sick of the guys I’ve been dating. Or trying to date.”
Lila laughed. “Girl, you’re preaching to the choir on that one. I’ve had my fair share of horrible decisions and I’m trying to help women like me do a little better for themselves with the guys that are actually worth something in this city.”
“I’m all about that. I’ll be honest, though. My job is very important to me. I want to make sure that whoever I’m matched with understands that I’m not going to give it up to be some incubator and stay-at-home mom. I’m a working girl, and probably always will be.” Bronte wanted to be honest with Lila so that her matches were guys that she actually could see herself with in the long haul.
Lila looked at her curiously. “Let’s take this into my office. I find myself with a few questions for you. I have someone that might be a good match, but he has…specific requirements.”
Bronte nodded and motioned for her to go forward and show the way. “I’m all yours for the next twenty minutes or so.”
When they were in her office, Lila did ask her a bunch of questions, most of them concerning her occupation, her openness to travel, and the amount of schedule she had open if she found someone she was really interested in.
At the end of the interview, Lila stood up, shook her hand, and told her she’d be in touch in the next few days after she talked to the match on her behalf.
Bronte left the office in a good mood, eager to meet this mysterious match that Lila had in mind for her.
***
She didn’t have to wait very long. After only a few hours, her phone trilled with a new incoming call. She didn’t recognize the ID but it was a local number, so she assumed it had to be the dating agency.
The feminine voice on the other end confirmed that they were calling on behalf of Lila and that they’d found a match for her.
“Ms. Welch, the match has agreed to a dinner meeting on Friday night. Does that work for you?”
Bronte smiled, her excitement growing. She tamped it down before responding to Miranda. “Friday will work for me. Where are we meeting?”
“You’ll be meeting at Chart House. Are you familiar with the location? I can give you directions if you’d like”
Bronte’s smile grew wider. She’d always wanted to eat there, but even on her nice interior designer budget, she couldn’t justify the prices of their seafood and steak. “No, thank you. I’m very familiar with the location. That works perfectly for me.”
When she hung up, sh
e immediately left for the city. She had a beautiful dress just calling her name and now she had a real reason to purchase it.
Chapter 2
“Right this way, Mr. Hardy.”
The black-and-white waiter showed him the way to the VIP table that had been set up in the back. He hated the precociousness of it, but with wealth came certain expectations, especially from his dates he’d learned. He did like the privacy of it, especially since Lila had been fairly giddy about this match for some reason. He tried not to get his hopes up, especially after the disastrous date with Betsy.
As he was seated, he heard the waiter tell him softly, “Sir, I believe your guest approaches.”
He turned towards the door and was at a loss for words, an unusual occurrence for him.
She was perfection. She had on a red dress that fit her body to a T without being inappropriate for their surroundings. It had a sweetheart neckline, and she was just removing her white coat to reveal tan, smooth shoulders and toned arms. Everything about her screamed class and money, even though he couldn’t place the designer that she was wearing, and she wasn’t wearing any jewelry. She didn’t need any. His gaze dropped down her body to her shoes and he bit back a laugh. She didn’t need jewelry because her shoes did the work of that. They were gold studded heels that looked like a cross between biker and something a lot more sexual.
As she walked towards him, she caught her eyes on him and gave him it right back, her gaze sliding down his gray shirt, black vest, and dress pants. Suddenly he felt too warm for his clothes and knew that it was her fault. He couldn’t see the color of her eyes from here, but they were bright and heavily lashed. Her mouth was red and shiny, and somehow on her, it didn’t see gaudy at all. She had amazing blond hair that was curled almost in an old-fashioned style which helped her overall look. She looked and walked like she owned the place, even in her tall heels.
