“Even though he’s a black bear?”
“If you love him, Mandy, that’s good enough for me.”
Tension she hadn’t been aware of evaporated. “Do you want a beer?”
“That would be great. Is that ham I smell?”
“Yup. Calvin said he wanted one.”
“Told you he had good taste.” José Jr. sipped. “I think Dad would have been glad you’ve found happiness, Mandy. He wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone forever.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do. There was nothing dog-in-the-mangerish about Dad.”
“This is true.”
“Bascom seems to think you should keep on being the ranch vet,” José Jr. said.
Amanda laughed. “Yeah. The Bascoms may be rich, but they don’t believe money buys happiness. Besides, I worked too hard to get my qualifications not to use them.”
He raised his glass to her. “Congratulations, Mandy.” He gave her another hug and cleared his throat. “So long as you aren’t just marrying him because of the baby.”
“What baby?”
José Jr. stared at her. “I have a nose, Mandy. And Bascom seems to think you’re pregnant too.”
She touched her belly. Hope fought common sense. “Would you mind?”
“I’d be thrilled for you. I already know you’re a great mom.”
She blinked back tears. “I better get the sweet potatoes in the oven.”
They had a pleasant meal. And even though she was yawning long before midnight they stayed up to see the New Year in. All through the evening, she couldn’t keep from dreaming about a baby. Dared she hope?
“I’m afraid it was a pretty quiet event for you,” she apologized to José Jr. as they said good night.
“Don’t worry about it. I get plenty of opportunities to party. This was nice. Bascom is a good man.” He kissed her cheek and went into his room.
In their room, Calvin kissed her properly for the first time since he had come home, finally setting her aside, just as things were getting interesting.
“I brought you something besides your stepson,” he said. He put a gift-wrapped box in her palm. Too small to be the pregnancy test kit she expected.
She shook it. “What is it?”
“Just open the box, Amanda.” He took off his pants and hung them over a chair.
She opened it. It was not unexpected that it contained rings. Just that there were three of them. One much larger than the other two. He took the rings out of her hand and removed the glittering diamond from the front.
He knelt at her feet and took her left hand. “Will you wear my ring?”
“Of course.”
He slid the big square cut diamond over her knuckles. The emerald cut stone was surrounded by bead-set diamonds on a platinum band where more bead-set diamonds flashed.
“I won’t wear it much,” she warned. Although the ring was lovely, it was an impractical thing for a vet to wear.
“I know.” He kissed her finger. “It’s too dangerous for you to wear rings to wrangle the stock. But you deserve one. If you don’t care for this one, we can get you something else.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood up grinning broadly. His cock waggled at her. “Now you can thank me properly.”
“You silver-tongued devil, you.”
Afterward they lay face to face, caressing one another. “José thinks I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
He kissed her softly. “That makes two of us. You can pee on the stick in the morning, and make it a hat trick.”
“Did you bring one?”
“Yup. I promised, didn’t I? Now go to sleep. Mama bears need their rest.”
The sun woke her. Calvin was already up and dressed, looking out the window. He tossed a box at her. “Don’t forget this.”
Her squeal of joy brought him running to the bathroom. “Told you so.” His eyes were damp. His arms held her close. Together they peered at the blue line.
Her ring winked on her finger as she nestled against his chest. They were going to be married and have a baby!
“I always wanted to make a woman bear-footed and pregnant,” Calvin said proudly.
“Haw!” But not even bad jokes could dent her happiness.
<<<<>>>>
Enjoy Amanda and Calvin’s meeting in Bear Fate. Keep reading for a preview.
Bear Fate
A BBW/Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance
Bear Fursuits Book 8
Two battered hearts. Two unmated bear shifters. Two military heroes. One wounded warrior. One billionaire. One BBW determined to wait for Mr. Right. Two infatuated males. Too bad, three’s a crowd.
BBW Amber Dupré knows she wants a forever after love. She can choose between wealthy Billionaire Oil Bearon Calvin Bascom and veteran Lance Prescott. Should bear shifter Amber settle for a billionaire bear, or risk her heart on a mortal who is everything she needs in a mate but who may reject her for being a monster?
Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
CHAPTER ONE
February
Lance~
The air was hot, dusty, choking. There was pervasive smell of human waste that caught at the back of the throat. It was dark, but he knew that Ferris was on his right, and Ricardo was two paces back to his left. When the explosion came, it lit up the drab, pockmarked landscape. He flew into a million pieces. And rained down on the ground on top of the scattered body parts of his buddies.
Lance Prescott came awake to the thin stream of pure, cold air from his bedroom window. He had left it open a quarter inch at the bottom. Clean, sweet-smelling Colorado winter air blew into his room and replaced the memory of Iraq. He was wet. His short hair was soaked with sweat. His sheets were damp. And he smelled of funk and fear.
It had happened enough times that he had a ritual. He stood under a hot shower and soaped himself until he felt clean. The smell of shit from his nightmare dissipated. His body stopped shaking, and his heart rate settled back to a steady beat. He dressed himself in his work clothes. There was no point trying to go back to bed. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, and if he lay in bed thinking, his anxiety would return. Better to go up to the stables and clean tack than relive the past. You couldn’t alter the past. You couldn’t control the future. But anyone could handle the present.
He stripped his sodden bedding off the mattress, and bundled it into the washing machine. A little hot water and soap would get rid of some of the stench of death that clung to the sheets. He located his bottle of Falkirk Twelve-Year-Old in the cupboard and poured a small shot. He put the bourbon back on the shelf and closed the cupboard door. That too was part of the ritual. He added a splash of water from the tap. Took that first warming sip. Funny how he sweated and yet was cold clear through.
There was nothing on the television at three in the morning – nothing that he wanted to watch. But he forced himself to listen to a succession of elderly persons claiming that their arthritis symptoms had been entirely relieved by a device obtainable for the low, low price of $399 divided into three equal payments. Tax, shipping, and handling extra.
By the time he had finished his bourbon, it was almost time for morning stables. There was nothing in his fridge that he wanted to eat. But he made coffee, and drank a cup while he looked out the kitchen window at the frozen creek. It was lonely out there, and very beautiful. When he had first come to Success, Colorado, he hadn’t thought that he would find the ragged, rolling plains of the Double B as beautiful as the gentle hills of Tennessee. But after seven years, he didn’t think that there was a lovelier spot in all the US of A.
The winter sky was still pitch black, it wouldn’t start to get light for hours. Snow lay everywhere. It reflected the fading moonlight and he could see surprisingly far. He followed the grayish outline of a small bear wandering down by the creek. He wasn’t particularly worried, out here so close to the open range, wild animals were not particularly unu
sual.
The Double B Ranch was troubled by the occasional loss of calves and elderly cows to cougars, wolves, bears, and even the odd coyote, but his boss Laura Bascom considered that an inevitable part of the cost of ranching. Still, it was unusual to see a black bear so close to the stables and the houses, although this one seemed to be merely exploring.
He had a soft spot for American blacks anyway. Ever since he had made his buddy Enright* as a bear shifter, way back when they were both Privates First Class, he had been drawn to them. Of course, he had been living a long time with Enright’s tomfool idea of a joke. Not that there was much of his tattoo left. The Iraqi IED had made sure of that. But it was a memory of a happier, more innocent time.
As he sipped his coffee, he kept an eye on the little bear. Carlos and Rosa Diegos’ house was not far from his. And the new stable hand, Amber Dupré, lived behind him in a small cabin on the Diegos’ property. He figured Amber was too savvy to leave her garbage outside her back door to attract critters. But he didn’t know that for a fact. Hadn’t told her so. It would do no harm to keep his eye on the bear.
The bear slid down the steep snowy bank to the frozen surface of the stream. Landed on its back and spun out. Then it clambered up and did it all over again. It was having fun. It was probably no more than a half-grown bear cub. Just old enough to have been kicked out of its mother’s orbit so she could have another litter. And just inexperienced enough to play near human habitation.
The bear continued its game, but eventually, it came to grief. It slid down the bank on its belly, landed on its paws, did a somersault and went right through the ice. Lance didn’t know if there was anything he should do. He didn’t want to think of the bear freezing, or drowning, but rescuing a frightened wild animal was a dangerous proposition. He decided to wait and see what would happen.
What happened was that the bear broke out of the ice with its powerful front limbs, and scrambled up the bank. It shook itself vigorously. Water sprayed into arcs of droplets that froze and fell, pitting the snow all around the bear.
He watched as the bear wandered a little further down the creek to where the ice was solid. He didn’t worry until it crossed to the side of the stream where the houses were. He moved from the kitchen, to the living room, and then to his own bedroom. The bear was moving through the trees at a good clip, galloping straight for Amber’s little cabin.
He grabbed his shotgun and loaded it. Shoved his feet into boots. It was cold enough that he took the time to put on his parka and gloves. He would do Amber no good if his hands were too cold to fire his weapon. He jogged out of his back door, and moved as quickly as he could through the two feet of snow towards Amber’s cabin. The bear was at her back door rattling it.
Lance banged on the front door. He called loudly. “Amber, Amber.”
He envied Amber her sound sleep. But she was in danger if the bear came in while she was in bed. He tried the knob. It turned easily in his hand and he walked into the cabin.
It was warm. And just inside the back door, struggling to put on clothes, was a completely naked Amber Dupré. He stood there with his mouth open, drinking in the manifold beauties of this lovely young woman. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t noticed that she was a Venus.
Her sister Heather had recently married the boss’ cousin Patrick and Heather and Amber were identical twins. Patrick and Heather had settled in Washington State, where the Duprés were from. But Amber had moved out to Colorado to work on the Bascom Quarter Horse Stud as a stable hand. Weird choice. But not his business.
Amber’s blue eyes were round with shock at his unannounced entrance.
“There was a bear.” Lance stammered.
She clutched her clothes tightly to her body. But there was still a lot of pink and white skin to make his cock spring to life as if the foolish thing hadn’t been playing possum for seven years. Apparently it had been waiting for him to turn into a Peeping Tom.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He strode briskly to the side window and listened with his back to her. He couldn’t see anything with the lights on, but he was sure he would hear a bear if it was knocking over garbage cans or trying to get in at either door. At least his back was now to Amber.
“I’m decent,” she whispered. “If there was a bear, I think it must be gone.” She didn’t sound scared, which was quite something. In fact, she sounded amused.
He turned around and stared at her. She had tucked her magnificent bosom inside a plaid work shirt and done up the snaps. But without a bra, her boobs were straining at the snaps. Her jeans were done up. And as usual, they encased the loveliest, roundest, ripest ass in Colorado. Miss Dupré was without doubt one of the most delectable women he’d ever met.
“I beg your pardon for intruding,” he apologized. “I tried knocking but you didn’t answer.” He knew his face was red. At least the parts of it that could still blush.
*Jack Enright of Bear Necessities
CHAPTER TWO
Amber~
She couldn’t believe that she had managed to turn completely back into a person before Lance Prescott had come into the cabin. She was freezing. Even in bear, that dunk in ice water had pretty much given her hypothermia. Dressed only in her damp skin, jeans and shirt, she was shivering and cold to her bones.
“I’m going to make coffee,” she said. “Do you want some?” She had better find out just what he’d seen. Laura Bascom, who was both her boss and a cousin of her brother-in-law Patrick, had warned her against taking bear in Colorado.
“You’re liable to get shot,” Laura had said flatly. “Folks around here don’t understand about shifters. Be careful. You’re not on Yakima Ridge.”
Despite the warning, restlessness and loneliness had driven her outdoors to frolic like a child – or a foolish bear shifter. And right on cue, here was Lance with his shotgun.
“Forgive me for bursting in on you,” Lance continued. Red lay like stripes of paint on his cheekbones. For once he was not wearing his eye patch and the scarred lid of his left eye and the craters on that side of his face were on view. “I should check and make sure the bear has gone.”
“I’ve got good hearing.” Amber tried not to smile. “If there is still a bear outside, I’m sure I would hear it.” She could hardly tell him that the bear he was worried about was standing right in front of him. She liked Lance, and she didn’t want to see his cheerful friendship vanish when he discovered she was one of the monsters.
She busied herself filling the kettle and scooping coffee into the silly French press that was her only means of making coffee. This little cabin had never been designed for someone to live in full-time. It had a good wood stove so it was warm enough, and Rosa had told her she could cook on it. Not that she had figured that out yet. But her whole kitchen consisted of one short counter with a small sink and a kettle. She had added a microwave, and a single burner hot plate, and was thinking of getting a toaster oven.
“What do you take in your coffee?” Amber asked.
Lance seemed startled to be asked. “Uh, nothing,” he said. “Black.”
“Coming right up,” she said. She turned around and leaned on the counter. “How did you happen to see a bear getting into my cabin at four o’clock in the morning?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said shortly.
Amber nodded. She knew better than to ask a veteran why he couldn’t sleep. She didn’t know how long it had been since Lance had been discharged from the military, but the bad dreams could last a lifetime. Battle fatigue, they used to call it. Before that it was shell shock. Now they called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. What it came to was a serious disruption to emotional and mental stability.
Back on Yakima Ridge, it was expected that men would do their military service before they found themselves a career, married, and had children. She had lots of cousins who had come back injured in heart and body, and a great many who hadn’t come back at all. So while she admired Lance, and pitied anyone with nightmares, she knew
better than to go stirring up unpleasant memories with an interrogation.
Amber pushed down the plunger. And waited. When she thought the coffee grounds had had a chance to settle, she poured two mugs and added a splash of cream to her own. She walked past her unmade bed to get to the small table and chairs beside the window.
Lance propped his shotgun up against the wall, as if he was surprised it was still in his hand, pulled out a chair and sat down straddling it with his hands resting on the back. He sat like a soldier with an upright and solid bearing that made her feel safe and at home.
“How come you’re up yourself?” he asked.
“It’s almost time for morning stables,” she lied.
“Good coffee,” he said after his first sip. “Thank you.”
“Would you like some breakfast? I don’t have a lot, but I can warm up some burritos—if you don’t mind burritos for breakfast.”
He laughed. “I guess you’ve not fed a lot of former soldiers.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Lots and lots. That pretty much describes every man I know back home. I take it that means burritos are fine?”
Read the rest of Bear Fate on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
Looking for more of Isadora’s bears? Try Beloved by the Bear!
About the Author
Take a vacation from the humdrum. Isadora writes feel-good PNR stories about heroic shifters and the sexy, sassy BBWs who are their fated mates. An Isadora Montrose Romance will instantly transport you to a thrilling world of sizzling passion and transcendent love.
Join her for some rousing adventures and some spicy loving. A guaranteed happy ending every time.
Thanks for reading!
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