Bear Pause (BBW / Bear Shifter Romance): A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance (Bear Fursuits Book 6)

by Isadora Montrose

  The drowsy cattle were displeased at being rounded up and herded in the dark. They milled around and mooed unhappily. They tried to evade the ATVs. But the drivers were expert at this operation, and they patiently circled the Black Angus until the cattle began to walk together towards the gap.

  Once the herd was moving as a unit, the men on ATVs set a slow but steady pace. Two by two, the cows streamed quietly up the ramp into the slatted back of the cattle truck. When the last animal was inside, the men shut and padlocked the rear doors. It had taken only twelve minutes to perform the entire operation.

  Hoodie and Ball Cap checked that the gap was shut and latched. They put the ATVs away in the panel van which backed up and went down the road ahead of the cattle truck. The driver of the delivery truck swerved out into the road at top speed, he sent his vehicle into a skid and ended up across the county road in the wrong lane, blocking it to traffic from the east.

  The driver of the rig waited at the stop sign until the delivery truck had come to a halt. He raised a hand to Red Cap and Sweatshirt who were now bent over the engine. He turned his rig west and drove into the night. The delivery truck’s engine made a miraculous recovery six minutes later. Sweatshirt slammed the hood down, turned the truck around. The Sheriff Department’s black and white passed it on the County Road rolling west.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It had been a very long three days since his first trip into Denver. Not that Steve was particularly worried that Trevor Carmichael’s background check was going to turn up something unpleasant in his past. There wasn’t anything there he was ashamed of. And he doubted that Carmichael would go back far enough to discover that he was actually Kenneth Bascom’s son. But something was still bothering Laura, and Steve hoped that getting the prenup out of the way would ease her mind.

  As for the tests ordered by Carmichael’s doctor, he didn’t have any reason to believe he was firing blanks, and he sure didn’t have any STIs. Shifters didn’t get STIs, but he could scarcely say so to either Dr. Klein or Carmichael.

  He hadn’t liked the contract that Carmichael had given him to look over. Brian Johnstone, the Denver attorney he had settled on, had carefully explained the provisions of the prenup to him, although Steve thought that they were perfectly plain.

  To make matters worse, Johnstone had not seemed to grasp that Steve wasn’t looking for either loopholes or a richer payout. He was entitled to a generous monthly allowance for the duration of the marriage, and a lump sum payable only if they stayed married for at least a year or until a child was born, whichever came sooner.

  Steve was most concerned about the stipulated custody arrangements. But Johnstone had assured him that they would not hold up in a Colorado court. The contract might grant Laura sole custody of any child of the marriage, but custody arrangements would still have to go before a Colorado family law judge. Good to know – although he planned to make sure it would never come to that.

  Steve was entitled to keep any gifts given to him by Laura during the course of the marriage. But he had no claim on any assets owned by Laura at the time of the marriage, or anything she acquired thereafter. All he had to do to keep his self-respect, was make sure that Laura didn’t give him anything much. Or to make damned sure their marriage lasted.

  As for the rest of the prenuptial agreement, it was insulting all right, but none of its conditions really mattered. Penalties for adultery, or leaving the marriage before the child was born, were all very well and good, but since he didn’t intend to cheat on or abandon Laura, they were purely hypothetical.

  What this piece of paper proved was that Laura believed that no man would want to marry her except for her money. He didn’t see how anything but experience could convince her he just wanted an ordinary loving marriage. Two people canoodling on the front porch. A couple of litters of cubs in the nursery. Growing wrinkled and gray-haired together.

  Marriage wasn’t an automatic happily ever after, but once she said ‘I do,’ he intended to make sure that his mate never regretted marrying him. But his Laura had been preoccupied and silent for the whole drive in to Denver. And now she sat beside him in Carmichael’s fancy suite looking glum.

  Carmichael’s assistant ushered him into the lawyer’s office for a preliminary discussion. “Dr. Klein has sent us the lab reports,” the lawyer began. “It looks like you have a normal sperm count, and no STIs. There’s nothing to prevent your marriage to Ms. Bascom, if you are willing to sign the prenuptial.”

  “That’s good,” Steve said. “Always assuming that Miss Laura’s lab results came back negative too.” He didn’t doubt that Laura had never had an STI any more than he had, but he thought it would be odd if he didn’t ask.

  “No STIs. Her doctor couldn’t speak to her fertility, however,” Carmichael said briskly.

  “Could she meet the conditions of Mr. Bascom’s will if she adopted?” Steve asked.

  Carmichael shook his head. “I don’t think that would fly,” he said. “Even if there was time.”

  “Then I guess we better get started making a baby. Where do I sign?”

  “I’ll tell Ms. Linsky to bring Laura in.” Carmichael pressed a button and before he knew it, he and Laura had signed the contract before witnesses and their business was done.

  Laura came out of Carmichael’s office with red cheeks. “It’s all done,” she said sounding embarrassed.

  Steve tucked his copy into his breast pocket without opening it. He bent over and kissed her cheek. “What do you want to do now?” he asked softly.

  Laura’s mouth opened but no sound emerged for a few moments. Eventually she produced a sort of embarrassed chirp. Steve took pity on his mate. He gripped her elbow, “There’s a coffee shop downstairs, let’s go have a cup of Joe.” She still looked nervous, but she nodded.

  “So what’s our next step?” Steve asked when Laura was sipping a latte, and he had a double espresso in one hand.

  She cleared her throat. She attempted a smile. Her big blue eyes looked pleadingly at him, but it seemed that even here, away from the flapping ears of the receptionist and the legal secretaries, Laura could not articulate her thoughts.

  Steve leaned in a little closer, even though he was getting into the danger zone. After nearly a week of visiting Laura and leaving her satisfied and himself randier than a penniless teenage boy in a whorehouse, getting close enough to Laura to smell her was a risky undertaking.

  She smelled wonderful – as she always did. But he could still pick up on the fact that she was unsettled and anxious. He put his spare hand on top of hers, right on top of her lovely thigh. Gave her a little squeeze. “What is it?” he whispered. His mouth was close enough to her ear that the hair covering it moved a little.

  Laura seemed to make up her mind. “We just have one more thing to do,” she said resolutely, “Before we can get married.”

  Steve nodded. “Darn straight,” he agreed. “It’s been on my mind all day.”

  She looked relieved. “Let’s get it taken care of today, before we go back to the ranch.”

  “I had that thought myself.” Steve drained his coffee cup. “When you’re finished, sweetheart, we’ll head out.” He gave her hand a last squeeze, and put it back on the table, before he lost his head in a coffee shop full of strangers.

  “Where are we going?” she asked in a whisper, once they were in the truck.

  “I found us a place. If you don’t like it, of course we can go somewhere else. But it came highly recommended.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere I would be recognized,” she said.

  “I don’t know where that would be in the state of Colorado,” Steve told her. “You Bascoms are all pretty darned famous.”

  “I’m not in the papers much,” she said. “Or on the internet.”

  “I found us someplace high-toned, where I think the employees will be very discreet. But you have to accept that if we’re going to get married it will have to be a public thing, if the lawyers are going t
o be satisfied. There can’t be anything secret about our marriage.”

  “We’re not married yet.” Her voice was strangled.

  “We soon will be.” He tried to keep the smugness out of his own voice. He didn’t think he was particularly successful.

  * * *

  Laura kept sneaking peeks at Steve. He was driving along with same calm smoothness with which he performed most tasks. His thumbs beat a happy tattoo on the steering wheel. He looked pleased and anticipatory. Some of her fears about the coming moment eased.

  It had been six and a half days since she had asked him to marry her. She knew that those had been busy days, crammed as they were with trying to organize a better security system for the stables, coping with all the night duty of breeding season, and trying to figure out when and how the cattle had gone missing.

  Steve had, of course, slept in the tack room on three of those nights. The downside of Carlos trusting him, was that he was assigned the overnight watch often. When he was free, Steve had visited her in her bedroom in the evenings after dinner.

  He didn’t much care for sneaking around, as he put it. But he also didn’t spend the night. Oh, he always left her satisfied. But they never actually did it. She was beginning to think that maybe he didn’t really want to. And there wasn’t much use buying herself a husband, if he couldn’t perform in the sack.

  But it looked as though Steve was finally on the same page. If all that it been standing in the way of them consummating their relationship was the fact that her daddy slept in the same house and they weren’t married, here in the city that would not be a problem. She just hoped that Steve had chosen a small hotel, where she would not be recognized and gossiped about.

  She should have sorted this out before she left the ranch. Have prepared for it. But she had worn comfortable clothes, suitable for a long ride in the pickup truck they had taken. Steve wanted to collect the camera equipment at the same time as they signed the papers and there wasn’t room in her little SUV.

  Worse than that, she was wearing her usual I-might-have-to-lift-a-bale-or-ride-a-horse underwear. Her sturdy plain whites were the opposite of sexy. And now that it came down to it, she was dreading being naked in broad daylight. Steve would be able to see all her flaws. But it was better to find out that her stud wouldn’t stand before they got hitched.

  “Nearly there, sweetheart,” Steve said lightheartedly. He grinned at her. “I can hardly wait.”

  Well, it was good to know that all the longing wasn’t exclusively on her side.

  * * *

  Laura looked puzzled when he backed into the parking space on historic Larimer Square.

  “Why are we stopping here?” she asked him.

  “This was the best jewelers I could find in Denver,” he replied. “I thought we were in agreement that you needed a ring. What on earth have we been talking about for the last twenty minutes?”

  While she was still red-faced and spluttering, he came around to the passenger side of the truck and helped her down. He led her protesting into the sleek jewelry store, which was only identified by discreet gold lettering.

  His online search had led him to believe that Farley’s was the place to find the right rock to put on his darling’s ring finger. He wanted the finest ring he could coax his mate to wear. Something big enough that other men wouldn’t need to get too close in order to know to keep the hell away from his beauty.

  He didn’t know if he could get Laura to wear a fancy diamond when she spent her life working with her hands. That was a good way to lose a finger or hurt yourself. But even if she only wore it for sometimes, she was going to have a rock on her ring finger.

  But, standing in what the internet claimed was the finest jewelry store in Denver, wearing his best jeans and shirt, he had to admit he felt a touch out of place. He sure hoped his stuff had come from Chicago. He needed more clothes.

  Laura didn’t look embarrassed to be seen with him, however. She just looked embarrassed. Even more embarrassed than she had looked when Carmichael had called her in to sign the prenuptial.

  “Steve,” she hissed in his ear.

  “Yes, darlin’,” he whispered back.

  “We can find someplace else.” Her arm indicated the elegant showroom.

  “I like this shop,” he said putting an arm around her waist and enjoying the tingle it gave him. He grinned at the man in the three-piece-suit behind the counter. “My fiancée needs a ring.”

  The man’s stiff face got stiffer. He looked between Laura’s casual clothes and Steve’s work roughened outfit. “If you’ll come this way?” He set off for another counter.

  Laura tugged at him, trying to get him to follow the salesman. But Steve had a pretty good idea why he was being led away from this case. That fellow was going to try to get him to buy his girl some skimpy little chip. But he had seen her soft and feminine bedroom. There wasn’t anything frilly about Laura, but she was a closet romantic. She deserved a romantic ring. And she was going to have one.

  “I like these ones,” he said pleasantly, tapping the top of the case with his forefinger. “I think pink would look lovely on your hand.”

  Laura shook her head. “When would I wear it?”

  “Whenever you were not riding or punching cattle,” he said.

  “Those rings start at thirty,” the salesman said in a hushed voice.

  Steve stared him down. He picked up Laura’s shapely hand and showed it to the salesman. “Harlan,” he said, glancing at the inconspicuous name tag on the salesman’s lapel, “My fiancée has large hands,” he spread Laura’s big, muscular fingers across his palm and stroked her knuckles lightly with his thumb.

  “What we need is a ring with some substance. Big broad band, and a good-sized stone that won’t look silly. I like those pink ones.” He pointed to a big square-cut rose-colored diamond outlined by two rows of smaller white diamonds. More diamonds marched in double rows to where the ring met the gold band.

  Harlan’s bored eyes tightened. He stepped circumspectly on a buzzer. At glacial speed he spread out a strip of black velvet on the glass counter top, and smoothed it flat. He glanced behind him, unlocked the case without haste, removed the velvet box the ring was in. He selected the one Steve wanted and kept it in his fist while he returned the box to the case and relocked it. Reluctantly, he set the ring on the velvet.

  “This one is sixty-three thousand,” he said. His lips were now so thin they had almost vanished. “About three thousand more if you want the platinum setting.”

  Steve listened with amusement, and picked the ring up. He slipped it onto Laura’s hand where it nestled as if it had been designed for her. “What do you think, sweetheart? Gold or platinum. I favor gold myself.”

  “I think a simpler ring would be better.” Her voice was squeaky.

  “Nah.” Steve chuckled. “A solitaire would look dinky on your hand. I like this square cut one. It’s a good size. But the oval one is pretty too. And of course, if you don’t like this one, we’ll keep looking until we find one you do.”

  She held her hand out, admiring the big rosy jewel against her skin. The pink diamond was the same shade as her own pretty nails. The multitude of stones caught the light and refracted it onto the ceiling in a thousand rainbows. She swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t need this,” she said.

  “Need has nothing to do with it. I want you to wear my ring. I like this one. But, if it doesn’t appeal to you, there are two or three others that would do.”

  Laura stroked the ring with her fingertip, and looked at him out the corner of her eye. Steve could tell she liked it. But her lips firmed stubbornly. Well, he could do stubborn back. And backing down from a fight wasn’t in his makeup. Dang. This little tussle was making him hot. Of course, watching Miss Laura drink water got him hot. And six nights of petting hadn’t cooled him off any.

  He grinned at her and turned to the salesman again. “Harlan, let’s see the oval ring.”

  A buzzer sounded, ther
e was a click as a door in the rear wall unlatched, and an even better dressed man with thick gray hair emerged from the back room. He walked purposefully over to the three of them. Steve tracked his progress with interest.

  “Good afternoon,” the newcomer said courteously. He looked disdainfully at their clothes and then his eyes went to Laura’s face. His eyes widened. “It is an honor, Ms. Bascom, to have you in our establishment. I am Lucas Farley. I wasn’t aware you were engaged.”

  “Nothing has been announced,” Laura said dismissively. Steve grinned at Farley. Laura was totally unimpressed at being waited on by Mr. Farley of Farley’s Jewelers himself. “This is my fiancé, Steve Holden.”

  The men shook hands.

  “That ring is very becoming,” Farley said. “But I believe you will find that the oval one suits your hand better.”

  “I was just about to get it out for them, Mr. Farley,” Harlan said obsequiously.

  Farley took over. He had that oval diamond on Laura’s ring finger, and was explaining how it complemented the shape of her hand better, and that gold enhanced the hue of the pink stone better than platinum, before you could say Jack Robinson. Steve relaxed and let Farley do his job.

  “The matching wedding band would be a custom order,” Farley explained. “Since it will have to conform to the outlines of this ring.”

  “I like the way these side bands open up,” admitted Laura, holding out her hand to admire the ring. “But the square one is much more comfortable.” She turned to Steve and glared at him. “Not that we’re having either.” She pulled off the ring and handed it to Farley. “If I might have a word with my fiancé?”

  Steve followed her to a corner where a diamond and ruby bracelet coiled in splendid isolation around a midnight-blue velvet wrist. There was no price tag. “Yes, darling,” he said smiling down at her flushed face. “What is it?”