Bearly Hers: A Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance

BEARLY HERS 

A PARANORMAL BEAR SHIFTER ROMANCE

MARIA AMOR

Copyright
©2015 by Maria Amor

All rights reserved.

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About This Book

Gia Santos is a curvy girl who has always had a thing for shifters. Thankfully, she lives in a world where shifters are accepted by the population and where she is able to join a dating site to specifically meet them.

Trey Cross is a bear shifter in a desperate situation. If he does not find a mate by the time he is 30 years old he will lose his ability to ever take a mate. Currently he is 29.

Time is of the essence and so Trey joins the same dating site in order to find a mate and find one fast.

It is there that Gia and Trey meet and sparks instantly begin to fly between the two of them. Only problem is, Trey feels he knows Gina from somewhere and if he is right then things could be about to get very, very dangerous for her...

                                           
CHAPTER ONE

C
HAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

“If you bring it up again, I’m going to break your face.” Trey Cross hefted a square hay bale onto the growing pile while leveling his younger brother, Xander, with a stare.

“Touchy, touchy,” Xander quipped, shoving another bale into place. He brushed a blade of sunny hair from his eyes, completely unaffected by Trey’s threat. “All I’m saying is, if you don’t mark a mate soon there won’t be any little blonde haired, blue-eyed Trey’s to carry on your annoying traits, like snoring, talking over people and—“

“You’ve said it ten times in two days. Enough.” Trey wiped sweat from his forehead with his arm before putting his gloved hands on his hips. July had come in hot and sticky. Of course the heat fell during hay harvesting and they were short-handed. Trey was on his last thread of patience. He, Xander, and their youngest brother Bo were juggling the chores around Aspen Ridge Ranch, trying not to kill each other while they sweltered. So far, so good, which was a huge feat considering, as black bear shifters, their fuses were short to begin with.

“Besides, all bears snore, dumbass.” They both grinned, and Trey was glad to break some of the tension. Xander’s constant reminders that Trey was in imminent need of finding a mate made him wish he could shift into his bear and run off to the forest in the Blue Mountains for a few days. It would be nice--a little respite from the trials of his human side--but there was damn too much work to do. Haying aside, owning a ten thousand acre working cattle ranch didn’t leave them with much downtime.  Including time to find a mate.

Trey hoisted the last bale into place before grabbing a bottle of water from a small cooler on the ground and taking a long swig. Yeah, he was nine months away from the “dead zone,” age thirty. Such an inconvenient quirk of nature. Bear shifters had superior height,build, strength and intelligence in their human form, but if they didn’t mark a mate by their thirtieth birthday, they were out of luck in the reproduction department. He drained his bottle and leaned against the haystack. Funny how bear shifters craved families of their own—mates to love and cubs to nurture. The time limit was pretty shitty, considering human males could reproduce well into their seventies or longer.

Even Mother Nature had her trade-offs, he supposed. Not that it mattered. He’d given up on finding a mate months ago. Women didn’t want him. They fawned over his good looks in the beginning, but once they saw his scars, it was all over. The sting of humiliation was still a bit fresh, he supposed. It had only been a couple months since Amy ended their relationship. She’d never specifically said why, but, considering she’d never been able to look at him without his shirt on, always turning away or going into another room, he knew she couldn’t handle his scars.

Amy was fun, but she wasn’t mate material. His heart hadn’t called out for her that way, and, deep down, he was glad she’d ended it. He could crave cubs all he wanted, but it wasn’t happening. He wouldn’t be humiliated by a woman’s disgust again.

“You’re the oldest Cross son.” Xander continued, apparently not worried about having his face beat, “and you’re an alpha of the Blue Mountain Clan council. You’re obligated to take a mate.”

Trey stiffened not because of his brother’s sudden no-nonsense tone, but because Xander was right. He wasn’t just a senior member of the council, he was Alpha Protector, as his father had been before him. Looking out for the clan’s safety was a role he didn’t take lightly. Bear shifters were comfortably integrated into human society, but many preferred to live within their own clans near the mountains and forests. Blue Mountain Clan was three hundred members strong, their land and homes spreading out for miles around Aspen Ridge Ranch, creating a small town in their own right. Disputes, acts of violence or crime were rare here, but when it happened, he handled it.

He’d taken over the position after his father and mother were killed in a car accident a year ago. Someday, he might have a son who would take over the responsibility. A shot of yearning went through him. It was harder to suppress than it used to be, the longing for a family.. Every bear went through it, or so he’d been told, this driving need to settle down with a mate. Once his thirtieth birthday came and went, so would the urge. He might still find a woman to love, but she’d never have his children.

“There isn’t a huge selection of eligible human women around here,” Trey heard himself say. He groaned. Why the hell had he just encouraged this conversation? Xander finished his own water and crumpled the bottle in his hand.

“I’ve already got that covered.”

“I can’t wait to hear this.” Trey nodded toward the house and they headed that way. His boots kicked up dust from the dirt path and he couldn’t help but think that it really needed to rain soon. He pulled on the middle of his tee shirt, peeling the fabric away from his sweaty skin. Damn, he needed a shower, STAT.

“A couple clan members have gone to those After Hours dating mixers in Bozeman. They do a shifter mixer every other Saturday.”

“A shifter mixer?” It sounded ridiculous… even if his curiosity was piqued. They ascended the stairs and went inside, a blast of air conditioning hitting Trey squarely on the chest. He closed his eyes and relished a moment of cold.

“Yeah, you know, they advertise it as a women-looking-for-a-shifter type thing. Cal Jameson has gone twice and he said the women were full and curvy and fine.” Xander made an hourglass shape in the air with his hands, a playful gleam in his eye.

Trey couldn’t help but smile. He was a sucker for full hips… and voluptuous breasts, and curvy thighs… damn it.

“Good for Cal.” Trey tugged his shirt free from the waist of his jeans and pulled it over his head.

“I signed you up. This Saturday.”

Trey balled the shirt between his hands and narrowed his eyes. “You did not.” He cocked his head to one side, jaw set hard, hands fisting. His middle brother was a constant pain in his ass. If anyone needed a mate, it was Xander. Maybe then he’d stop being such a busybody.

“Did.” Xander took a step back with his palms up, a cocky smile on his lips. “Eight o’clock at the Batten Club. Dress nice.”

Completely over this conversation, Trey raced upstairs to his bathroom. He stripped, trying to shove the whole idea of mixers and mates out of his mind. Except that the possibility of walking into a room full of women and taking a glance around for the
right
one wasn’t horrible. If none of them caught his attention, and his libido, he’d walk out. There wasn’t any harm in looking, was there?

He and his brothers lived in this huge, empty ranch house, forty miles from the nearest city, on a spacious property that offered too much work and too little family. It needed life, a future. It needed women and children. Trey showered, feeling his spirits lift, even though he still wasn’t sold on the dating idea. Getting out, he toweled off, looking forward to beers with his friends tonight at Shay’s Bar. Maybe he’d ask around, see if anyone else had any experiences at this mixer.

Wiping steam from the bathroom mirror with the end of his towel, Trey realized he needed a haircut. If he was going to do this, he’d need to clean up a little bit—

He turned, catching a quick reflection of the back of his shoulder in the mirror. Pulse pounding, he paused and studied the length of scarred and rippled skin that reflected back at him. Phantom pain lanced down his back and spread across his shoulders, working down to his buttocks and the backs of his thighs. Cringing, Trey grit his teeth, willing the discomfort to stop, demanding himself to quit thinking about it. He remembered the pain like it was yesterday, when in truth it had been years since he’d been permanently damaged.

Damaged in a way the women found unacceptable.  He glanced at his reflection --hardened, his lips set in a tight line  -- before smearing lingering mist on the mirror with his hand.

Xander could shove his mixer up his ass.

He wasn’t going. It wasn’t worth it.

An hour later, he tossed back a longneck, mostly ignoring the laughter and chatter around him, to soak up a few minutes of relaxation while he nursed his beer. Men from his clan were there along with some fellow ranchers from land closer to Bozeman. His brothers and a handful of friends sat at the table with him, laughing their asses off about something and he was trying not to get wrapped up in it.

Until Bo made a high-pitched kissy sound and socked Trey on the shoulder. He gave his brother a lazy sideways look.

“What?”

“You gonna shave your legs for the mixer? Get all nice and smooth?”

A roar of laughter went up from the group. Trey eyed the men across the table and the laughter died off. His brothers might be able to poke fun at him, but he was still an Alpha and every man in this place knew it. So, Xander had shot off his mouth about tossing Trey into the dating piranha pit. Great.

Trey winked at his brother. “You’ll have to give me a few tips, seeing how you’re so good at it yourself.” That brought the ribbing and laughter back and he let it ride. Didn’t take long before the group moved away from the table to go for a round of pool. Dellan Kyle, a member of Blue Mountain Clan and one of Bo’s best friends, stayed behind, nonchalantly moving to a seat next to Trey.

“What’s up, Dell?” Trey took a drink of his beer. Dellan followed suit, saying nothing, his gaze dropping to the table as he picked the label on his bottle.

“You, ah… you thinking about going to that mixer?”

The back of Trey’s neck prickled at Dell’s low, wary tone. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Dell nodded and Trey thought that might be the end of it, though he had the distinct impression there was more to be said. “I… I don’t want this to get out, okay? But I think you should know.”

Trey turned on his stool to face Dellan.. The other man’s face was shaded, but Trey could feel his discomfort. “It’s just between us, man. You have my word.”

Dell glanced around before holding Trey’s gaze. “I went to the last one, two weeks back. Found this woman… damn, she was perfect, you know?  It’s kind of a rule there that you don’t take anyone home that first night, but I… I couldn’t help it.”

“What happened?”

The younger man spread his hands as if he wasn’t sure himself. “She gave me something -- drugged me  -- slipped it in my beer, I think. I remember getting to my place and getting us some beers, and the next thing, I’m on my back and she’s standing over me, holding a wad of cash in her hand.
My
cash.” Dell looked around again, nearly whispering. “I couldn’t move, but I could hear and see everything. She went through the house, took whatever she wanted, including five grand. She said she knew I’d never talk, because what shifter wanted to be bested by a woman, right?”

Trey pushed his beer away. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

A desperate, self-recriminating sneer crossed Dell’s face. “I
was bested
by a woman, Trey. Fuck. I’m six-four, two-hundred and eighty pounds and I got robbed by a five-foot something little minx. I’m not really proud of it.”

Trey slapped Dell on the back, wishing there was something he could say to ease his friend’s pride. He got it; he understood.

“That’s not all.” Dell drained the last of his beer. “Guys at the feed store were joking about a member of Gray Trees Clan who had the same thing happen. I tracked him down and he was embarrassed as hell, but he confirmed it. Sounds like the same woman.”

A soft prickling began to spider along Trey’s skin, slowly, inch by inch as a protective pride welled inside him. It was the urge to shift—the first tingle of change that would carry his body through the transformation from man to bear. A knee-jerk, instinctive reaction to the news that a member of his clan had been harmed. He’d fix it. Because that’s what he did.

“Well, then,” Trey said, waving at the waitress for another round of drinks. “I’d better keep an eye out for her, huh?”

Seemed he was going to the mixer after all.

*

Gia Santos glanced discreetly around the room before pulling the hem of her red skirt down for the hundredth time. This damn dress had fit perfectly in the store, hugging her waist and curvy hips with silky, crimson perfection. Not to mention the V-neck that dipped between her breasts and showed off their fullness. It was a far cry from what she normally wore, but, she’d been so enamored with it in the store, she’d ignored the fact that the skirt only fell mid-thigh and only when she tugged it that far. Now, she wouldn’t be able to sit without giving every man in the room a sneak-peek at her panties.

She was all for finding a man, but that’s not quite how she wanted to go about it.

She wished her friend Hope would get back with their drinks. Gia tried to relax as she leaned a hip against the table, grateful for the lower lighting in the corner so she could observe without being obvious. She spent her days in a hospital laboratory, cloaked in a baggy lab coat, goggles and plastic gloves. Her last two relationships had been with fellow microbiologists, both harboring as much passion as a piece of cardboard; the guy before that had stolen her credit card and wrecked her car. Though Gia wanted to give up on trying again, Hope wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.

A couple of other women filtered in, but, aside from them, the room was empty. She’d insisted on arriving to the mixer early so she could lubricate her horrible shyness with a glass of wine or three before all the men showed up. Not just men, but shifter men—
bear
shifters. A lot of women tripped over themselves to get their hands on these guys, but the idea of a man being part bear was a little unnerving. Even if they were touted to be gentle, protective, and committed family men.