Scottish Werebear: A New Beginning: A BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Scottish Werebears Book 4)

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Scottish Werebear: A New Beginning: A BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Scottish Werebears Book 4) Page 1

by Lorelei Moone




  Scottish Werebear: A New Beginning

  Book 4 in the Scottish Werebears Series by Lorelei Moone. Find Books 1-3 here.

  To be kept up-to-date with new releases, why not sign up to Lorelei’s mailing list.

  When Leah Hudson moves into her new bungalow in a quiet suburb of Glasgow, she’s ready for a fresh start. No more night shifts at the call center, instead, she’ll pour all her energy into her budding Internet business. All seems perfectly idyllic, and she’s even starting to connect to her reclusive but attractive neighbor, Matt. But trouble has a habit of finding Leah, and soon she’ll find that her new life isn’t as quiet and simple as she had hoped.

  Matthew Argyle has been keeping to himself ever since developing delusions about turning into a bear against his will. He doesn’t even leave the house, except to spend time in his backyard when the neighborhood sleeps. The arrival of a new neighbor, Leah, throws his carefully orchestrated life into a tailspin. He can’t ignore the attraction, yet he’s unwilling to subject her to his crazy.

  One night, everything changes yet again. Matt must decide which is more important: staying in his comfort zone, or coming to the rescue of the woman he’s begun to love.

  This paranormal romance novella is the fourth in the Scottish Werebear series. For the best experience, readers are advised to read the series in order. Find Books 1-3 here.

  This story is intended for adult audiences only.

  © 2016 Lorelei Moone

  Published by eXplicitTales

  Cover Design by Jacqueline Sweet

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Scottish Werebear: A New Beginning

  Story

  About the Author

  Prologue

  As they exited the dunes and reached the beach at Applecross Bay, Matty had to smile.

  His big brother, Jamie, had been right. Overnight, the sea had washed away their last attempt at building the most awesome sand castle anyone had ever seen. They’d have to start all over again.

  Rather than feel discouraged, he was excited. Some of the turrets hadn’t turned out quite right yesterday. Today, he would build an even better castle. And Jamie had told him to do it all by himself, so he would try extra hard.

  He was only seven, but he didn’t need anyone’s help to build the best sand castle of the season.

  Without paying too much attention to where Jamie was going, Matty got to work. Filling buckets of damp sand, and turning them over into perfectly formed shapes.

  It was cloudy, a bit windy but not too cold. It was a perfect summer day.

  “That’s a nice castle,” a voice interrupted him.

  Matty looked up to find a tall man standing beside him, his hands on his hips and head cocked to the side as if he was inspecting Matty’s work in great detail. Next to the man stood a woman with pale gray eyes and equally gray hair.

  “Thanks. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, though.”

  The man smiled at him and nodded. “That’s a good rule to have.”

  Matty focused once more on his work, shoveling more sand into his bucket, excavating what was going to be the moat of the castle.

  “Listen, Matthew,” the woman spoke softly.

  “You know my name?” Matty looked up again, focusing on her face this time.

  “I’m Molly. You’ve never met me before, but I know your parents very well. They’ve asked me to take care of you should anything happen to them.”

  Matty frowned scratching his face, leaving streaks of damp sand behind on his cheek.

  “Where are my parents?” he asked.

  “I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but…” the woman hesitated, glancing anxiously over at her male companion.

  “Your parents have met with an accident. They didn’t make it,” the man said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Matty turned his head and looked across the empty beach, his heart racing. There was no sign of Jamie; no brotherly advice within reach.

  “But I just saw mom. She was just there, at our house!” Matty protested.

  “I know, darling. These things don’t ever make sense,” the woman said.

  They really didn’t. How long had he been building this castle for? It felt like he’d only just arrived at the beach.

  “I don’t believe you.” Matty threw down his trowel and bucket and jumped up, ready to run home.

  The man had other ideas and stepped up to him, grabbing him by both his arms and keeping him firmly in place. “No you don’t.”

  “I want to go home! Let go of me!” Matty fought hard against the tears prickling in his eyes - big boys didn’t cry after all, but the man’s fingers tightened painfully around his arms.

  “We’re sorry to tell you like this. But there’s nothing there for you anymore.”

  “Where’s Jamie? Jamie!” Matty cried out.

  “Jamie has gone back to the house to take care of things now that your parents are no more. But he’s only a boy himself; he can’t take care of you as well,” the woman explained.

  The man meanwhile loosened his grip on Matty’s arms. “Be a good boy and don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Wouldn’t you want your parents to be proud of you?”

  Matty nodded, biting his bottom lip. He would be a good boy. For his mom and dad.

  With his head hanging low, he walked in between the two grown-ups across the beach, not up the path Jamie and he had taken earlier which led to their home, but another one that led to Applecross village.

  “Wait, my bucket!” Matty suddenly remembered.

  The man grabbed his arm again and shook his head. “You won’t be needing that where we’re going.”

  Matty turned one last time, seeing his red bucket and spade abandoned in the pale sand, surrounded by turrets and walls that were going to make up the best sand castle of this season, if not ever. He didn’t even get to finish it.

  Life was unfair.

  The rest of the walk was silent. Matty wondered if the two adults were communicating in their thoughts like his mom and dad were able to do. Every so often, when they did say something, they seemed to disagree a lot. Probably they couldn’t hear each other unless they spoke.

  After the long walk through the dunes, the woman directed him into the back of a big silver car waiting in the village parking lot, while the man took a seat behind the wheel.

  From the back seat, Matty looked around the village; the shops were still closed, and there was no sign of anyone around. The roads were empty as well as they drove off. There was no one to wave goodbye to. No one to notice he was leaving.

  Matty didn’t know where they were taking him, but he’d adjust somehow, for his parents and Jamie.

  He had to be a big boy now.

  Chapter One

  It was an ordinary November morning in Gartcosh, a sleepy village near Glasgow. At least, Matt Argyle assumed it was, because, from the safety of his home, all mornings seemed quite similar. He had a deadline and was expecting some groceries to be delivered, but other than that, today was going to be no different than yesterday or the day before.

/>   Matt lived alone, ever since Molly, the woman who had raised him through most of his childhood, had left this house to him. He was glad to have it, because he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. The tall fences offered some measure of privacy, but, just in case, he never stepped out of the house until after nightfall.

  He hadn’t left his property in years.

  Just as he turned on his laptop, Matt was interrupted by an unusual sound. A mechanical hum that seemed to creep ever closer. It wasn’t any of the cars his neighbors drove. No, he’d recognize those. This was something bigger.

  Matt got up and peeked out the curtain. A large moving truck pulled into the road and stopped in front of the empty house next door. His heart started to beat a little faster when two men got out of the cabin and started to pile up boxes of stuff on the pavement.

  It had been nice, safe, knowing that the house adjoining his backyard was unoccupied. Now it looked like that was about to change.

  His anxiety grew when he started to speculate about who might be moving in there. What if it was a family with children who would inevitably drop a ball or some other toy over the fence and expect to come in and fetch it? What if the parents expected to be all sociable and get to know him?

  No way, he couldn’t have that.

  Along with the tension of what might be, Matt felt an old feeling creep over him. This is what always happened when he least wanted it to. His skin started to itch a bit, and the muscles in his shoulders, arms, and legs seemed to throb and pulsate.

  Shit, not now!

  He closed his eyes and tried to will the odd sensation away. It was all in his head; he knew that. The itching, the funny feeling as if his body tried to outgrow his own skin. If he didn’t get himself under control, the transformation would be complete, and he’d find himself unrecognizable.

  He’d turn into a bear.

  Obviously, that was impossible, but somehow his mind refused to accept the truth and continued to feed him these outlandish delusions.

  It always happened when he felt threatened or under pressure.

  As he opened his eyes again, he saw a modest little car pull into the road beside the truck. He held his breath for the moment of truth: the opening of the driver side door. Two shapely legs clad in denim stepped out first, then the rest of his new neighbor came into view.

  She was beautiful. Her shoulder length auburn hair framed a heart-shaped face with dark, mysterious eyes that Matt couldn’t bear to look at for more than a second. She was curvaceous, feminine, mesmerizing.

  He only managed to catch a short glimpse before she rushed off to the backside of the truck, gesturing wildly, probably at the two men unloading her things.

  This changed things. He wasn’t sure how exactly, but he could feel it in his bones.

  Wait a minute; he wasn’t really considering meeting this woman, was he? That was simply ridiculous. He hadn’t talked to any of his other neighbors in ages, not even the ones he’d known all his life.

  He didn’t have time for this, not today. Matt shook his head, as if to rid himself of all these strange thoughts. He had a deadline to consider, a report to write.

  And anyway, it would be best for everyone involved if he stuck to his routine. What difference did it make anyway who moved in where? His house was his own; nobody could change that.

  Matt sighed and forced himself away from the window. With his laptop under his arm, he retreated to the farthest part of the house, the small room at the back where he’d spent most of his childhood. It didn’t have any windows, and the loud hum from the truck up front only just managed to infiltrate it.

  So what if she was pretty? He was hardly relationship material.

  Matt plugged his headphones into the output of the laptop and cranked up the volume, drowning out the remainder of the noise coming from outside and got to work.

  As soon as he hit ‘send’ on the report, many hours later, he sat back and crossed his arms. He’d finished the job, somehow, but the image of the new woman next door had never quite left him. It was maddening. How was he meant to function like this?

  Just with her presence, she’d upset the entire balance of everything. He’d skipped lunch as well as dinner, something he’d never done before, simply because he didn’t think he could regain focus if he accidentally spied her through the kitchen window.

  He’d missed the delivery of groceries that he’d scheduled for the evening, because the music he’d been listening to had blocked out the doorbell.

  Still, he couldn’t stay in the back room forever. He needed to blow off steam somehow.

  After preparing a quick bite, he noted with relief that there was no activity outside. Even the usual neighborhood kids playing ball in the street had gone home already, so he headed to the back of the house again and looked out at the unfinished project awaiting him.

  For a few nights now, he’d been working on building a patio with a barbecue pit in the backyard. The print-out with instructions he’d found online had said it would be spacious, and the barbecue could cater to 6-8 people. Not that he was planning on using it for entertaining, but he was rather fond of grilled meat and had a very healthy appetite himself.

  Of course, the new neighbor changed a few things. For one, he’d have to grow a hedge of some sort for extra privacy. Luckily, this was the right time of year to order the plants.

  He didn’t mind the extra work, after all, he enjoyed having things to do at night when sleep was hard to come by. Gardening had proved a welcome outlet for his energy as well as creativity. But it would cut into his area a bit, leaving less space for the seasonal vegetables he wanted to plant in spring.

  But there was no point debating it. Matt picked up the instructions again and started collecting his materials. Everything he needed for the patio had already been delivered. The ground had been cleared and mostly leveled, so all he had to do was lay the stones tonight, and he’d still be right on schedule.

  So he got to work. He managed to carry a dozen stones across the yard and had just begun to lay them down when something roused his suspicion. It wasn’t a sound as such, more of a vibe. A presence.

  He was being watched.

  Just as he was trying to convince himself he was being paranoid, he turned towards his new neighbor’s house and was immediately greeted by a rustle and muffled curse. She was there.

  Shit, now what?

  It was too dark to see properly, but that didn’t deter his brain from showing him fuzzy images of her stumbling backward behind the wooden fence. Like infra-red imagery captured by a hunting scope, except he wasn’t seeing them with his eyes. Of course, that wasn’t possible. His brain was playing tricks on him.

  Still, he couldn’t take the risk, and he rushed inside. From the safety of his dark back room, he looked through the gap in the curtain while rubbing the cold out of his hands. In his eagerness to get the project done, he hadn’t even realized how cold it was tonight.

  Her side of the fence wasn’t lit up, so there was no way of knowing for sure whether she was still there, not scientifically anyway. But now that his mind had captured her presence, he seemed to be able to track her a little.

  That’s impossible.

  He kept scanning the fence for a few minutes until his instincts told him she’d gone.

  This was too much to deal with. Even his safe haven, his personal backyard wasn’t secure anymore. Something had to change.

  Matt took to the one outlet still open to him. The world-wide-web. The answer ought to be out there, hopefully.

  With a swiftness his fingers hadn’t shown all day during his work, he typed out his experience - anonymously - aiming to publish it for the world to see on a discussion forum he often lurked in. For someone with delusions such as his, what else could he do? Where else could he go for help?

  He finished his piece with questions: Was there hope? Should he try harder to ignore her? Or was this a sign that the status quo simply wasn’t sustainable anymore? Perhaps he shou
ld go with it, and give in to the irrational desire to watch her, admire her, perhaps try to reach out to her even?

  He didn’t know right from wrong anymore. Either way, he definitely was in trouble.

  And for a change, others shared in it.

  In the past, he’d mostly held back, reading other people’s posts instead of writing his own. He’d come to recognize some of the names of regulars who liked to comment. There was the cheerleader who supported everything and everyone, no matter how ridiculous. Next came the troll and the pessimist, each leaving their standard comments. Go for it. Ignore her; there’s no hope. Etcetera.

  The more helpful members were less prolific in their responses, but he waited for them anyway.

  After an hour of waiting a few comments had come in that didn’t offer much other than sympathy. Oh well, maybe later…

  Chapter Two

  “Be careful with that, please!” Leah blurted out as she noticed the two movers unloading the truck containing her belongings a bit more enthusiastically as she would have liked.

  They barely took notice and continued their work at the same pace, one all but flinging each box out of the back of the vehicle, for the other to catch and set down on the pavement.

  What’s the point of labeling things as fragile if they’re intent on throwing them around?

  Leah took a deep breath and headed for the door, clutching the key to what was going to be her new home tightly in her fist. If anything’s broken, I swear to God I’ll give them an ear full and demand damages.

  Money wasn’t the issue as such; Leah was most concerned about the supplies she needed to make a living from now on. Homemade candles and bath products can’t just be replaced instantly by throwing money at the issue. These things take time and effort to recreate.

  Her heart still hammered away in her chest as she looked around the empty hall, living area and open plan kitchen. It was a nice little bungalow, in a nice little village. Picturesque was the word. A far cry from the flat she’d called home ever since moving out on her own after her dad’s death.

  As she came back out, the truck was mostly unloaded, with only the larger pieces of furniture remaining inside. She bit her tongue and let the two men do their job as they saw fit, noting that despite shifting everything inside of the house at record speed, they hadn’t scuffed a single wall or door frame.

 

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