by Amy Star
Melissa seemed…not thrilled, because it seemed like she rarely got that excited about things, but she seemed pleased all the same. Mitch was willing to take it as a victory. Besides, her house
really was nicer than his. Larger. Roomier. Better equipped. In possession of a better view. It would be crazy for them to both live at Mitch’s house when Melissa’s was an option, and he could admit that readily enough after the initial ruffling of his pride.
He kept his house, though. He wasn’t expecting any trouble on the horizon—not from Melissa, at any rate, though he supposed it could come from somewhere else—but selling it felt a lot like getting complacent. And if nothing else, keeping it meant he had a place to keep all of the things that were infrequently used but important nonetheless.
Life carried on, and Mitch was content. That, above all else, was a new feeling. It nagged at him at first—he was too used to living like he might need to throw everything away in an instant—until he finally let himself realize that it was a good feeling. He liked falling asleep beside Melissa. He liked waking up in their shared bed (though rarely was he permitted to wake up
beside her, as she seemed to be allergic to the notion of sleeping in if she wasn’t absolutely
exhausted).
He liked being able to eat breakfast on the balcony, looking out over the woods as he drank his coffee. He liked being able to watch the sunset each night and have a clear, uninterrupted view of the stars, undisturbed by the light pollution in town. He was even willing to bet that Melissa liked it all, too.
She didn’t say as much. Neither of them were great at simply stating their feelings if it didn’t feel like there was a pressing need. But there were little things that gave her away. The way Mitch’s favorites were always stocked in the kitchen regardless of whether or not he mentioned it. The way things would be quietly rearranged to add knick-knacks that were important to him to the fold. The way she would occasionally fall asleep on his lap on the couch as the television played in the background.
True enough, neither of them gushed about how happy they were, but it was clear enough to see either way. They didn’t need to gush, and that mutual understanding on its own was a comfort.
Even so, Mitch couldn’t help but to notice that Melissa seemed distracted. Not in any sort of
detrimental way—it didn’t seem like there was something wrong so much as it just seemed like she was mentally chewing something over rather extensively—but he noticed all the same.
Maybe he was supposed to ask about it. But if there was some sort of guidebook he was
supposed to be following, he hadn’t been allowed to read it. To him, though, it seemed better
to simply wait until she brought it up to him.
(Besides, when Melissa had something on her mind, there was really no telling what it might be, so Mitch figured no one would blame him for being just a little bit wary.)
It didn’t take too long. Only a few weeks after they dealt with Genos, as they stood on the
balcony and watched the sun sink below the trees, Melissa mused quietly, “You know, I think that dragon guy sort of had a point.”
“Genos?” Mitch asked, just for something to say to show that he was listening. There weren’t
exactly many other candidates. “Seriously?”
Melissa hummed a low note in confirmation. “Yep,” she replied, popping the P as she said it. She folded her arms on the balcony’s railing and leaned on them, looking down at the ground below for a moment before slowly looking back to the sky again. “I mean, think about it. Actual
dragons are extinct. Were-animals and vampires seem to be the most common inhuman creatures, but they still aren’t what I would call common. I bet, in some places, it’s possible to live an entire life without ever even running in any of them, even unknowingly. And how much of that is because of humans?”
Mitch shrugged one shoulder and nodded once, conceding the point. He leaned back against the side of the house, against the corner of the door, leaning his weight on his shoulder and folding his arms over his chest. “Fair enough,” he agreed slowly. “What are you getting at?”
“What if we could fix the relationship between humans and inhuman creatures?” she asked, turning her head just enough to look at him over her shoulder. “I mean, I know we can’t do it on our own. It’ll take a ton of people and probably generations. But we can at least try to get things started.”
Mitch’s eyebrows rose slowly. “You do know that would require that any inhuman creatures announce that they’re inhuman, right?” he pointed out. “I mean, we tend to hide for a reason.”
Melissa rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back to the trees in front of her. The barest hints of autumn were beginning to creep in, just a few leaves at a time. “I get that,” she returned dryly. “So, we find willing help to get things started. Inhuman creatures who have humans that can vouch for them. You said it yourself; most of your coworkers know about you.
You have an entire crowd of people to back you up if someone wants to think you’re a monster. And we could see if Sabine is willing to help, too. I mean, temperament-wise, she’s pretty harmless. She can turn into a dragon, but she doesn’t want to hurt a fly. And we could ask Jasper.” She glanced over her shoulder again as Mitch opened his mouth to object, cutting him off as she added, “Yes, he can be a shit head, but he can also fake politeness when he needs to, and he looks completely harmless. He’s never going to grow out of his awkward puberty stage and we can use that to our advantage.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Mitch mused, pushing himself away from the wall to instead join her in leaning against the railing.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I guess so,” she agreed mildly. “I mean, it just makes sense to me. You’re all endangered. If no one tries to fix anything, then you might all disappear entirely. I don’t want to let that happen, if I can do anything about it.” She leaned sideways just enough to press her shoulder against his arm. “So, what do you say?” she asked. “Are you going to help me?” She bumped her shoulder against him. “I mean, I can’t really do this without you. It would just look like I’m an uppity human trying to drag all the inhuman creatures into the spotlight without their say so.”
Slowly, Mitch sighed and bumped her with his shoulder. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed. “I’ll help as best as I can.”
Melissa beamed up at him, and when she leaned up onto her toes, he leaned down at the same time, and their lips met in the middle, easy and comfortable and slow.
Mitch wasn’t sure how well her idea would work, but if anyone could brute force it into working, he was pretty sure it was Melissa.
*
Bringing their loose plan up to Sabine first seemed like the best idea. Melissa called her up, and for the first time in their brief acquaintance, they met her at a bar instead of in the middle of the woods or a field, and there was no risk of any of them needing to suddenly take their clothing off. She wore her usual jacket and had her messenger bag with her just in case, but Mitch was willing to bet that their inclusion was simply habit.
They chatted good-naturedly at first, about anything and everything that came to mind, until their second drinks were sitting in front of them and Sabine leaned on an elbow on the table, propping her chin up in her hand, and asked expectantly, “So, what’s this little get together about?”
Of course, she would get right to the point. Mitch was pretty sure Melissa was allergic to making friends with anyone inclined to beat around the bush.
He stayed quiet and Melissa explained what she had explained to him just a couple nights ago. It wasn’t his idea, after all, and he had no doubts that even with his help, Melissa would still be at the forefront of everything they did.
Afterwards, Sabine looked thoughtful, idly stirring the tip of one finger in circles in her drink. “You know it could be dangerous,” she pointed out eventually. “I mean, you’d need to find a ton of inhuman creatures just willing
to go along with your idea before you could ever actually put it into motion, and that’s assuming none of the inhuman creatures try to get rid of you for wanting to out them.”
Mitch had already informed her of all of that. He needn’t have bothered, though. Melissa had already thought through most of the potential dangers. But her own safety and even her life meant surprisingly little when she wanted to do the right thing. And even if he wouldn’t be around to see the pay off—even if none of them would be around to see the eventual pay off—he couldn’t deny that her idea felt like the right thing to do.
“I know,” Melissa replied. “I still feel like it needs to be done, though.”
Sabine lapsed into silence again, before she picked up her drink and threw it back in one swift motion, draining it and setting the empty glass down on the table with a heavy thump. “Well,” she offered, sounding decisive, “I guess you can count on me.” She grinned, toothy and cheerful. “I’m always up for a challenge, and I know I’ve got a few friends who wouldn’t mind being able to show themselves in the light of day.”
Melissa grinned up at her, even as she asked cautiously, “You’re sure? You said it yourself; it might be dangerous. I don’t think the danger stops applying to you just because you aren’t
human.”
Sabine snorted out a laugh and waved it off. “Please. If I had a problem with danger and lost causes, I would have flown away the instant I first saw you.”
It was certainly shaping up to be interesting already, Mitch mused to himself as he drained his drink.
*
They didn’t call ahead to schedule anything with Jasper. He had never given them any sort of contact information, assuming he had any. Instead they simply showed up at the brewery, late at night when the moon was high in the sky. They didn’t need to wait long before he joined them outside, scowling petulantly, as if someone had hustled him out the door despite him probably complaining.
“What are you doing here?” Despite his pouting, he seemed less like he was annoyed and more like he was bemused.
“We have a favor to ask,” Melissa replied carefully.
Mitch coughed behind one hand, halfheartedly attempting to hide a laugh at the look of narrow-eyed skepticism that Jasper leveled on them both.
“Do I need to help kill anyone else?” he asked slowly, folding his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to one side.
“Hopefully not,” Mitch returned dryly.
Jasper’s eyebrows rose expectantly. “Well, what is it, then?” he asked, and the words were just shy of being a demand.
Once again, Melissa explained her idea, outlining how Jasper could help them get the ball rolling on (figuratively) letting inhuman creatures take their place in the light of day. He listened carefully, surprisingly patient considering what Mitch knew of him.
Afterwards, when Melissa’s words trailed into silence, there was no reply at first. Jasper simply stared off into the middle distance, his expression unreadable. Mitch felt a strange urge to ask him if he was alright, but he got the impression the concern wouldn’t be appreciated coming from him.
Eventually, Jasper mused quietly, “You know, when I was first turned, I never got to tell my
family. I had to just disappear right afterwards. Never even got to see if they tried to look for me, or if they just accepted that I was gone.” He huffed out a breath caught somewhere between a sigh and a melancholic laugh. “It would have been too dangerous. That was what the guy who turned me said, at any rate. There was no way to know how they would react, so it would be safer for everyone if I just vanished.”
He lapsed into silence again, but only for a moment that time, before he smiled slowly and looked at Melissa. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed, nodding once. “What I went through sucked. If I can do something to keep it from happening to someone else, even if it’ll take a while, then you can count me in.”
Melissa let out a delighted whoop and Jasper squawked like a startled chicken as she abruptly hauled him into a hug. Jasper struggled halfheartedly, though it was obvious he wasn’t putting any real effort into it or he would have been able to escape with ease.
Shaking his head slightly, Mitch watched their brief celebration.
He was happy, though. True enough, being content was a good feeling, but he was always ready for another adventure. He was always ready to be doing something, and if he got to keep Melissa at his side at the same time, then that was all the better.
Life was going to be interesting for a very long time, he suspected. But he was perfectly alright with that.
* *
Hey sexy. Thanks for reading, you are the best!
This book is from the “Bears With Money” series and all the other available books are listed below.
BOOK 1 – THE BEAR'S FAKE BRIDE
BOOK 2 – THE BEARS SECRET SURROGATE
BOOK 3 – THE BEAR'S NANNY
Go grab a bear with money right now and collect them all!
You are a star!
Amy x
P.S
If you already have the above books then just turn the page to start reading a special bonus book. Its a surprise...
TWICE THE BEAR
A PARANORMAL MENAGE ROMANCE
AMY STAR
Copyright ©2016 by Amy Star
All rights reserved.
About This Book
“Can she handle TWICE the bear?”
Nadine's life was turned completely upside down when she found herself kidnapped with no idea why.
Things got even more crazy for her when she found herself rescued by a pair of bounty hunters called Dylan and Matthew.
Nadine had no idea why she seemed so important to the muscle-bound duo but she was soon to find out.
This was because Dylan and Matthew were shape-shifting WereBears and in Nadine they both saw a potential mate. Not something they see very often.
The only problem was that neither bear could decide which should be allowed to pursue her, which left only one solution. They should SHARE her....
This is a Paranormal Menage Romance full of action, adventure and thrills alongside the expected sensual scenes. Please only read if these themes interest you!
CHAPTER ONE
“Ugh, this place is terrible,” Matthew said, looking out through the window of the rental car. Dylan sighed, glancing at the man in the passenger seat with growing annoyance. “Every few minutes it reeks like we’re driving past a dump.”
“Yeah, well, it’s about as far away as we can get away from the others without leaving the country, so get off my ass,” Dylan countered. “Besides, it’s neutral territory.”
Dylan glanced up to look at the sign that loomed on the side of the highway, listing the upcoming exits.
“We could have gone to New York,” Matthew pointed out.
“First of all, New York reeks every bit as much as it smells here—if not worse,” Dylan said. “Second, we’d have been chased out of New York. There are too many groups there already. South Florida is neutral ground—no one owns it.”
“You know where else is neutral ground? LA. The fucking Caribbean.”
“LA is too close to the sleuth,” Dylan said firmly. “And the Caribbean would be just as bad—no work, no prospects, and maybe even a few natives who want our blood.”
“Yeah, well, this is still shit,” Matthew said, shifting in his seat.
Dylan rolled his eyes, turning his attention back onto the road. He and Matthew had driven steadily for a week to get from Portland to Florida. They’d had enough money to barely make the trip, but they would have to find work almost immediately as soon as they arrived. He caught sight of the sign on the right, indicating the next exit would be Broward Boulevard.
“This is us,” Dylan said, signaling a lane change. He glanced in the mirrors, making sure he was clear, and moved into the right-hand lane, pushing towards the exit ramp. He wasn’t precisely sure where their new home would be, but he and Matthew ha
d looked it up on the map; they had somewhere to go, even if it was a rundown rental. “Just think of it, Matt: beautiful beach babes, clubs, all the Cuban food you can eat. It’ll be great.”
“Beach babes wearing a metric ton of suntan lotion,” Matthew said sullenly. “Clubs full of people doused in cologne and perfume.”
“Dude, if you’re not going to stop bitching about every little difference between here and Portland, I’m going to drop you on the side of the road and leave you to fend for yourself.”
“Fine,” Matthew said, shifting in the seat once more.
Dylan caught the scent of his best friend’s pheromones; Matthew was still simmering in a stew of anger and fear. There had been a few close calls on the way to Florida—a few times when they’d nearly run afoul of rival groups, people who would have either killed them or turned them over to the police or beaten them senseless for encroaching on their territory. Dylan shook his head, taking the left lane to pull onto the surface road to go east.
