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The Cowbear's Christmas Bride (Curvy Bear Ranch 4)
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The Cowbear’s Christmas Bride
Liv Brywood
Description
After being abandoned at an orphanage as a child, Carol has spent her entire life pushing people away. If her own mother couldn't love her, then how could anyone else? But one snowy night in Central Park changes everything. When she learns a terrifying secret about herself, she wants to hide—but she can't. In search of the truth about her heritage, she travels to the Curvy Bear Ranch in West Yellowstone. She's on a mission to reclaim her soul, and can't let anything get in her way—especially not the hot, panty-melting cowboy who keeps offering to help.
When cowboy bear shifter, Hank Grant, meets a sexy, curvy woman at his family's bed and breakfast, he's instantly attracted. Although she doesn't want his assistance, he can't stop his bear's insatiable desire. Against his better judgement, he helps Carol on her quest. But after one dangerous encounter, he realizes that she's his fated mate and he'll do whatever it takes to protect her—even if it means keeping her in his bed. He intends to use every sensual skill in his arsenal to convince her that they belong together. He might end up on her naughty list, but it's a chance he's willing to take.
Excerpt
“Oh God,” she murmured when he finally broke the kiss.
He wasn’t done—far from it. Instead, he left a trail of soft kisses across her jaw and down her throat. She tipped her head back and grabbed his shoulders as she swayed in his lap.
The taste of her intoxicated his senses. His bear rolled and jumped and leapt for joy as he found a tender spot just below her earlobe. She shivered and ground against him.
“You taste so good,” he whispered.
She responded with a whimper.
“Especially right here.” He nuzzled her neck before pulling her collar down a bit so he could nibble her exposed flesh.
Her hands drifted up to unzip his jacket. When she pushed it over his shoulders, he wiggled out of it. She ran her hands down his chest.
“You’re so hard all over,” she murmured.
“You have no idea.”
“I think I do.” She gave him a pointed look.
He growled against her shoulder. She had entirely too much clothing on. After making quick work of her jacket, he slipped his hands under the hem of her sweater. As he caressed her waist, she trembled.
The soft press of her breasts against his chest wasn’t enough—he needed more. He glanced at her face only to find desire written all over it. That was all the encouragement he needed to lift her sweater over her head. As the clothing raked across the steamed-up window, it left a trail. He knew he shouldn’t be undressing her like this, but he couldn’t deny his bear any longer.
The Cowbear’s Christmas Bride
Liv Brywood
The Cowbear’s Christmas Bride
Copyright© 2015 Liv Brywood
Amazon Edition
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
A Note from Liv
Chapter 1
Carol pulled the lapels of her red trench coat up as she ducked into Central Park. Normally she didn’t venture into the park at night, but she hadn’t been able to hail a cab. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she hurried along the path. Last week, a woman had been attacked while running around the lake. Her attacker still roamed free.
Darkness closed in on her as she passed one glowing street lamp. The next pool of light lay ten yards ahead, just far enough away to send a shiver of unease up her spine. As she approached the light, a man stepped out from behind a cluster of bushes.
She froze.
He stopped and glanced her way. As fear pushed adrenaline into her limbs, her heart hammered out a thundering beat. Blood rushed through her ears to drown out the ambient noise of the city. She tensed, ready to bolt back toward the street.
When the man finally turned and walked away, she sagged with relief. She waited until he’d disappeared around a bend in the sidewalk, then turned and retraced her steps back to a fork in the road. The alternate route wouldn’t be as short, but it might be safer.
As she jogged down the path, she swore she’d never be caught in the park again after sunset. At this point, she couldn’t do much to change the situation. She was too far in to justify going back.
After rounding several bends, she spotted a road through a tangle of trees. If she ran up the snow-drenched embankment, she’d make it out faster. As she studied the angle of ascent, freezing December air bit at her skin. She wanted to get home and curl up in her warm bed as soon as possible, so she decided to go for it.
Her gaze fixated on the glowing taillights of cars driving past the small opening. A breath whooshed from her body as she scrambled up the slope. She was almost there.
Just steps from freedom, a hand flew out of the darkness to grab her arm.
The man yanked her back against his hard body and snarled, “Give me your purse and I’ll let you go.”
“O...okay.”
She knew better than to argue. If that was all he wanted, she could live with having to call the credit card companies to cancel all of her cards.
As she handed him the purse, she kept her eyes on the ground. She’d read somewhere that if you didn’t confront the mugger, he’d be more likely to take the money and run.
When he didn’t leave, she looked up. An unmistakable leer shimmered in his black eyes. She backed up a step.
“Where you going, baby?” he asked.
“You have my purse.”
“Maybe I want more than your purse.”
Her throat closed as he took a step toward her. She’d never been such in a dangerous situation before and had no idea what to do. A clawing sensation came from deep within her chest. Shit. Was she going to have another asthma attack right now?
“You shouldn’t be alone in the park after dark. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?” he asked with a smirk.
She backed up another step. A strange tingling sensation burned along the tips of her fingers. She held up her arms and stared as hair sprouted and grew to cover her skin. Thick pads developed as her hands grew to an enormous size.
A searing pain ripped down her spine. When she screamed, a roar filled the air. She jumped back. Had she made that sound? What the hell was happening to her?
She pitched forward, landing on her hands. As she clawed at the ground, she looked directly at the man who stood ten steps away. A mask of pure horror had replaced his cocky arrogance. His jaw hung open.
“Wha...what are you?” he asked as he backed away. “No! Don’t come any closer.”
Kill him.
The voice came from deep within her soul, as if her survival instinct had kicked in to transform fear into rage. She’d never wanted to tear someone apart with her bare hands before, but in that moment, she knew she wa
s capable of killing him.
On all fours, she crawled forward. A strange huffing sound blasted from her throat. She couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so afraid. But she didn’t care. Whatever she’d done to make him turn as pale as death was good enough for her.
He stumbled over a fallen branch before turning to run. She chased him through the trees and into the street. Horns blared and cars swerved to avoid her but she didn’t pay any attention to them. All she cared about was tearing his head off and disemboweling him.
As she ran down the slick sidewalk, she hit a patch of ice and skidded toward a building with mirrored windows. She rammed into it hard enough for her to see stars. As she stood, she caught a glimpse of herself in the window. She couldn’t believe what was staring back at her.
A huge grizzly bear with saliva dripping from its teeth roared at her. She jumped back, but so did the bear. Stunned, she held up her hand. The beast did the same.
Holy shit… how was this possible? She’d turned into a freaking bear.
She leaned forward until her nose pressed against the frozen glass. It stuck for a moment. When she pulled away, the tip of her nose hurt. She raised her hand up to rub it, then realized she couldn’t because her hands were gone. She held her paw up and twisted it from side to side, marveling at its size. The damn thing was as big as her head.
Shouting caught her attention. She turned to find cars stopped in the middle of the road. Several people pointed their cell phones at her and snapped photos. A ripple of fear cascaded down her back. She ran away from the crowd and turned into the first alley she could find. As she lumbered past a dumpster, her nose twitched.
Famished, she shoved the lid open and swiped her paw inside. A half-eaten banana lay near the top. As she shoved it into her mouth, she watched the entrance to the alley. What the hell was she going to do now? Was she stuck like this? How would she get home?
She tossed the banana peel on the ground, then padded to the end of the alley. After looking both ways, she hurried down the street and ducked into the next available hiding space. Using this process, she made it through the darkened streets of New York and eventually stopped in the alcove of an abandoned building across the street from her apartment.
It wouldn’t be unusual for some of her neighbors to be up at this time of night. She couldn’t exactly sneak her huge, furry butt up the back stairs. Unsure of what to do, she sat in the cold until the pounding in her heart slowed.
Gradually, and without a recognizable catalyst, the fur receded. The tormenting pain returned as bones twisted and cracked before reshaping. She wasn’t sure how she knew what was happening, but she was returning to her human form.
Naked, she wrapped her arms around her quaking body and raced across the street. She ran up the stairs and managed to make it to her apartment door before realizing she didn’t have her keys.
The door across from hers opened and her neighbor Helen peered out. When she spotted Carol’s naked form, her eyes went wide.
“What the hell happened to you?” Helen asked.
“I don’t have my keys, can you let me in?”
“Let me grab the spare.”
Helen returned a few seconds later and handed her the keys. After unlocking the door, Carol scurried inside.
“What happened to you?” Helen asked as she followed her into the living room.
“I took a shortcut through Central Park and got mugged.”
“Oh honey. Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No. He ran away before I could…”
Before I could what? Before I could eat him?
How the hell was she going to explain this to Helen? Although she’d known her neighbor going on three years now, they weren’t that close. They only had each other’s keys in case the century-old building caught on fire and they needed to save the other person’s valuables.
“Go get dressed. I’ll make you some tea,” Helen said.
After putting on her thickest sweater and a pair of flannel pajama pants, Carol found Helen in her tiny kitchen. She slid into a chair at the small breakfast table and wrapped her hands around a steaming mug of tea.
“How many times have I told you not to cut through the park at night?” Helen asked.
“I know.”
Helen was at least twenty years older than she was. They weren’t close friends, but Helen had taken on a motherly role in their relationship. She liked to check in on Carol to make sure she had enough to eat—as if that was ever a problem.
Carol shifted her butt in the seat. Maybe if she’d lost some weight, she wouldn’t be working at such a shitty job, and she’d be able to hail a cab in the middle of the night. Oh well, it wasn’t her fault that society had such unreal expectations of beauty. Maybe she should move away from New York City, go out to the suburbs, and see if people were nicer there.
“How did you get away from the mugger? And where are your clothes?” Helen asked.
Carol explained everything up until the point where she’d transformed into a bear. Helen was going to think she was on drugs if she told her the truth about that part. Carol hated lying, but there was no way Helen would believe her anyway.
“Someone came up the path and scared him away. He told me to take off my clothes, that’s why I don’t have them.”
“But he never…”
“No.” A breath of relief whooshed out from her chest. It could have been so much worse, but she’d survived. Exhaustion seeped into every muscle in her body. She sagged against the back of the chair. “I’m really tired.”
“You should report it to the police. Maybe they can find your purse,” Helen said.
“Maybe. I’ll do it in the morning. There’s not much they can do about it right now.”
“Yeah, I hate to say it, but you might as well start canceling your credit cards tonight. You have a list of them, right?”
“Yes.” Carol smiled. She couldn’t help but wonder how her life might have been different if someone like Helen had been her mother. But she knew better than to dwell on questions that would never be answered.
After ushering her only friend across the hallway, Carol waited until she’d closed and locked the door. Carol shut her door and engaged a bevy of locks. She was pretty sure the guy hadn’t taken her purse with him when he’d ran off, but someone else could have picked it up.
She flicked off the living room lamp and checked the latches on the windows. Even though she was on the fourth floor, she made sure to inspect the locks every night. A fire engine’s alarm wailed as it streaked down the street. A few doors down, the television blared. Some nights, she’d give anything for five minutes of complete silence.
In her bedroom, she padded over to the dresser. She stood for a moment, unsure about whether or not she wanted to open the top drawer. After what had happened tonight, she wanted answers from her birth mother more than ever before.
Why had her mother abandoned her? Where was her father? Hadn’t she been good enough for them? Was there something so inherently wrong with her that no one could ever love her?
Even if her birth mother couldn’t tell her the truth, maybe she would at least explain her shocking transformation into a bear. Maybe that’s why her mom had left her at the orphanage. She was a freak. What parent would ever want a monstrous baby? No wonder she didn’t have any friends. People probably sensed the awful beast lurking inside of her and ran the other way.
She slid open the drawer and pulled out a worn, faded postcard. She stared at the image of Old Faithful. “Greetings from West Yellowstone” was printed across the top. Even though she’d already memorized the text, she flipped the card over and read it.
Please take care of the baby.
She’d been dropped off at an orphanage when she was just a few months old. The postcard had been hidden in the blanket in which she’d been wrapped. For years, she’d wondered about her mother. Was she from West Yellowstone? Why would someone cross the country only to abandon their baby?
It didn’t make any sense.
When Carol had turned eighteen, she’d finally gotten up the courage to ask Harriet, the director of the orphanage, about her birth mother. Harriet hadn’t been able to help, other than to say that her mother had probably lived in West Yellowstone. Although the U.S. was getting more progressive in the 1980s, it wasn’t unusual for unwed mothers to go on an extended vacation so that they could have their babies in secret. Harriet didn’t know for sure, but she suspected that’s what had happened in her case.
Carol stared at the postcard. Until now, she hadn’t wanted to find the woman who’d abandoned her. But after her experience in the park, she needed to find out why and how she’d changed into a bear so that it wouldn’t happen again.
Armed with a single line of nondescript text, she was determined to find her birth mother. She opened her laptop and typed Flights to West Yellowstone.
***
Hank heaved a huge piece of wood siding off of the pile and carried it toward the barn’s frame. He lined it up and held it while Logan hammered nails to secure it to the support beams. A gust of arctic air rushed across the plain to freeze the sweat on his forehead. He welcomed the frosty blast. They’d been working on the siding for the last hour and although it was only twenty degrees outside, he’d already peeled off three layers of clothing.
“I think it’s crooked,” Kate said. She stood ten feet away with her head cocked to one side. “Maybe not. What do you think Logan?”
Her husband walked to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I think it looks right. We measured it twice.”
“Measure twice, cut once. It’s what our dad always said.” Hank lifted his Stetson and brushed his forearm over his head.
From across the field, he spotted Madison. She carried a huge picnic basket in each hand. Hank hurried over to help.
“Thanks,” Madison said.
“Where’s Mack?” he asked.