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Authors: Imogen Taylor

Chosen By The Dragon

BOOK: Chosen By The Dragon
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Chosen By The Dragon

A BBW Shifter Romance

 

 

 

Imogen Taylor

© Copyright 2015 by Imogen Taylor. All rights reserved.

 

No part of this novel may be reproduced, duplicated, distributed or transmitted in either electronic or print form. Neither may it be stored in a retrieval system, database or in any form without prior written consent from the author. 

 

Chapter 1: A Sleepy Mountain Town

 

Jacob arrived in the sleepy mountain town around midday. It was a quiet place with streets far apart from one another, the kind of place where traffic was five cars on the same street at the same time. It had a few tourist attractions for the road-tripper: a mining museum from when the mines in the nearby mountains were actually active, a railroad museum describing how the town had transformed from an outpost into a full-fledged town after the railroad came through, and even a wine-tasting room, though there were no local vineyards to speak of.

Having come to this town time and again over the years, Jacob learned that the only people that went and visited those places were tourists; the locals had zero interest in any of it. If anything, they went two streets over to the only active bar in town. The hotel that Jacob and the others were staying in had a restaurant and bar attached to the lobby, but Jacob liked to mingle with the common folk. The others always liked to make fun of him for it, calling it slumming, but Jacob thought it kept him ground. It helped him remember why he did all of this.

Jacob and twelve others were some of the richest people in the country. That much was known, and it provided a decent cover for why they came to this town to do business. They needed a quiet place to meet and talk, a place that appreciated discretion. A town as small as this could use all the money it could get its dirt-stained hands on, so they were always more than willing to accommodate them without a word to the papers.

The truth of the matter, however, was that Jacob on the others weren’t human. At least, not entirely. They were dragon shifters hundreds of years old. Every twenty-five years the clans sent a representative to negotiate for the next quarter century. Trade agreements were made, territory lines were drawn, and sometimes wars were declared.

Then again, sometimes wars were settled. Known simply as The Negotiations, it was a time for each of the clans to touch base with one another, assess each other’s strength, and decide the best course of action. The thirteen men staying in that hotel were not the richest in the country by accident. If there was one thing dragons knew how to do, it was accumulate wealth.

After checking into the hotel, Jacob settled in, showered, dressed himself casually, and went for a walk.

The town, tired as it was, shifted every twenty-five years like the leaves of autumn. They were always trying to pull in new money. Residents started businesses, sold businesses, or just lost everything. New stores were up now in buildings that had been vacant before, while others that had stood the test of time were now boarded up with enough dust and cobwebs to make any abandoned cartoon mansion jealous. The Negotiations would begin tomorrow.

For now, he felt like a drink. Avoiding the bar in the hotel, Jacob went to the single functioning bar in town. The other shifters wouldn’t be caught dead there, which was a major part of its draw. After spending hours – days – with those folk, the last thing he wanted to do was spend more time in their company, even if alcohol was involved.

Jacob strolled down the street, soaking up the chill evening breeze coming down from the mountaintops. Summer was ending, but that meant little at this elevation. The bar door was open to let some of the fresh night air in. From half a block away, he could hear the jukebox playing and the locals inside laughing and talking with one another. It wasn’t a party place, but it was always lively. Being around humans always filled Jacob with a calming sense of purpose, and the natives were especially good people. He would make sure they were taken care of.

Jacob walked into the establishment, excusing himself as he maneuvered through tight crowds of people all talking to themselves. Laughing a little to himself as he pushed his way through the throng, he finally found an empty stool at the bar and sat down.

Spinning around to face the bar, he glanced at the bartenders. Like the town, the tenders of this bar shifted with the seasons. This time, however, Jacob’s chest tightened, his stomach fluttered, and he felt his mouth go dry. There, speaking to a couple men at the end of the bar was one of the most captivating women he’d ever seen.

She was full figured, her curves pronounced and luscious. She held herself with a confident grace untouched by anyone else in this town. Even in a city filled with hundreds of thousands of people, the quality was a rarity. Long brown hair fell along her shoulders in waves, and deep blue eyes shined from behind a pair of rectangular glasses.

“Get you a drink?” a man asked.

Jacob forced his attention away from the woman for only a moment, just long enough to look at the man standing in front of him and say, “I’ll wait for her, thanks.”

The man gave him a wry smirk, knocked on the bar, and went over to speak with the woman. He said a few quiet words and pointed in Jacob’s direction. The surprised look on her face filled Jacob with a sense of pride and warmth unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Humans were inherently below the shifters. It wasn’t racism or classism; they simply didn’t live as long, couldn’t learn as many lessons. By nature, they were less. This woman, though, made Jacob feel as if he was unworthy of her. She finished making drinks for the two men, took their money, and then came over to Jacob.

“You wanted to talk to me or something?”

Oh God, what was he going to say? He’d worked up a conversation starter, but now, faced with her, his mind was completely blank. “Beer.”

It was so stupid, but it was the only thing to make it out of his mouth.

“All right,” she said with a laugh. “We have that. What kind would you like?”

Oh God! What kind of beer did he like? As casually as possible, he gave a shrug and said, “Whatever you have on tap.”

She gave a tight-lipped smile and looked as though she were trying to not laugh. She grabbed a frosted mug, stuck it under a tap and filled it. Blowing off the head, she set it on the bar. Jacob put down a $5 bill.

“You know,” she said as she worked the till, “Matt could’ve gotten that for you.”

“I know,” Jacob said, taking a sip. He didn’t know what kind of beer this was, but it was disgusting. He tried to keep his face straight. “I wanted you.”

He was mid-sip when he realized how he’d left that sentence. Nearly choking on the beer, he added quickly, “To get it. My beer. To get the beer, I mean. You just seemed like you knew what you were doing.”

“Yeah,” she said with a small laugh, “I’m a real wiz with a tap. You good here, then?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jacob said, shaking his head and looking down at the bar as he took another sip. As the woman walked away, he called out, “I’m Jacob, by the way.”

“Wendy,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. “Enjoy your beer.”

Jacob smiled and held the beer up in a faux salute. That was going to take some effort to recover from.

Chapter 2: Quiet Night at The Bar

 

It’d been a week since Mr. Beer-on-Tap first came into the bar. Wendy punched in for her shift and began wiping down the bar. This early in the evening, only the most desperate and alcoholic regulars were in the bar. The TV in the corner played low, but there was so little noise going on that she could actually hear it over the occasional clink of a mug hitting a table.

As Wendy wrung out the bar juice into the sink, Marcy, one of the other bartenders that worked the day shift walked by. “Your boyfriend came in again last night.”

“What?” Wendy turned to face her.

“Yep,” Marcy said as she pulled her oversized purse out from under the bar. “Came in, asked about you. When I told him you weren’t working, he asked when you’d be in again.”

“And what did you tell him?” Wendy asked, putting a hand on her hip.

Marcy got that mischievous grin she always did before dropping a bomb. “I said you worked tonight.”

“Marcy! Damnit!”

“What? I’m so sorry you have a hot, nice guy asking about you. Must be real hard.”

Wendy balled up the rag and tossed it against the wall. “It’s weird, okay? Why is he asking about me? You don’t know who this guy is. He could be some psycho killer.”

“Yeah, he could,” Marcy said and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Or he could be a nice guy who has the hots for you. If you’re still alive tomorrow, let me know how it goes.”

“If I’m still alive you may not be because I’m going to strangle you.”

Marcy grinned and waggled her fingers as she left.

Wendy spent the next few hours anxiously watching the door. As much as she yelled at Marcy for it, the truth was Wendy had something of a crush on the guy. He was good looking, sharply dressed, and built like someone who lifted weights. As attractive as he was, though, Wendy couldn’t understand why he would be asking about her so much. He could have any guy in this whole town. Hell, he could have any girl he wanted anywhere. So why was he coming into this place, in the armpit of the world, and ask about
her
?

The night rush was in full swing when she saw him walk in. She made herself busy near the back, but he still picked his way through the crowd and sat at the bar. He’d come in a few times already, each time asking for her specifically. Now, as she tried to be unavailable, the other bartenders weren’t even bothering to wait on him.

“Wendy,” one of them said.

“Can you please take care of it?” she asked him.

“Really?” he asked, looking at her as though she were stupid. “Because that’ll work.”

Wendy grunted and set down the glasses she’d been needlessly drying. “You’re useless.”

“I’m not the one he wants.”

Wendy waved him off and approached Mr. Beer-on-Tap. “Beer?”

“Yes please,” he said, folding his hands on the bar and smiling at her.

Wendy put on her best strained smile, trying to look vaguely annoyed at his attention while inside she was trying to not fangirl all over him.

“You’re in here a lot lately,” she said as the mug filled. “You new in town?”

“Business conference, actually,” he said.

Wendy furrowed her brows and set the mug in front of him. “Here?”

“Yeah, well, it’s… not the usual. Business, I mean. Your town is nice.”

“Nice?” she asked, resting her hands against the bar and locking her elbows.

“I, well not in a bad way. It’s quiet here. We like that.”

“And what is your business?”

He gave a small laugh and looked at his beer. Smiling awkwardly as he spun the glass in slow circles between his palms, he gave a small shake of his head. “Different things. We’re sort of a conglomerate of different corporations. Not easily defined.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is. Or it can be. I don’t know. I’ve been doing it for so long it seems simple, I realize how it must sound to someone unfamiliar with everything.”

“You mean someone stupid. Like me.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant at all,” he said quickly, holding his hands out.

Wendy leaned back and wiped her palms on the back of her pants. Smiling at him, she shook her head. “You need to calm down there, buddy. I was just messing with you. It sounds complicated as hell.”

“Oh,” he said, giving another short laugh. “You had me there.”

“I could tell. You seem kind of wound up. This business of yours stressful?”

“It can be,” he said with a small bob of his head. “That’s why I like coming in here. It’s away from them. Helps me unwind.”

“That’s why you like coming here when I’m here, you mean.”

His face twitched as a number of emotions fluttered over his features. Sounds came out of his mouth, part laugh, part choke, and part words. None of it made sense.

“Uh huh,” she said in response.

“It’s a nice bar,” he said finally.

“This place is a dive.”

He looked up at her, the sweetest smile on his face. “It’s not all bad.” It was so disarming, that, for just a moment, she forgot to play the bitch. “You know, I don’t know my way around very well. I could use someone to, ya know, show me around.”

“You’re asking me to show you around?”

He shrugged. “If you don’t have anything better to do.”

Wendy had no idea why he was asking her out, and in such an adorably lame way, but if he was adamant about pursuing her, she wasn’t going to stop him. “What did you have in mind?”

BOOK: Chosen By The Dragon
10.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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