The Cowbear's Christmas Shotgun Wedding (Curvy Bear Ranch 3)

The Cowbear’s Christmas Shotgun Wedding

Liv Brywood

Description

For years, Kate Wrangler refused to return to her family's ranch in the small town of West Yellowstone. But after receiving a call that her good-for-nothing father finally dropped dead, she's obligated to sell the decrepit property. As if things couldn't get any worse, Logan Grant, the sexy heart-breaker who ruined her life, is hanging around the barn when she arrives. She's only planning on staying long enough to sell the ranch. He can try all he wants, but Kate's never going to fall for his heated glances and sultry kisses.

Cowboy bear shifter Logan Grant takes one look at Kate's curvy figure and makes it his mission to help her repair the ranch—and the bond between them. She still hates him, but that's not going to stop him from claiming her as his mate. When he finds out she hasn't shifted in over a decade, his bear decides to show her what it means to be feral. He only has one week to steal her heart, but with the magic of Christmas on his side, he's ready to do whatever it takes to claim his fated mate.

Excerpt

He pressed up against her back and murmured, “I settled for cheesecake, but what I really wanted was you.”

Her breath hitched as she turned to face him. With his lips just inches away, she couldn’t resist kissing them. The first tentative brush of her lips against his curled her toes. She moaned as he tangled his fingers in her hair and drew her closer.

Just a single swipe of his tongue across her lips was enough to make her forget everything but the feel of his hands on her body. Kneading, caressing, cradling, he seduced her with his hands. She forgot all about her plan to leave at the end of the week. She forgot the terrible memories associated with this house. She forgot about Logan’s betrayal on prom night. Nothing mattered but the graze of his stubbly cheek against hers.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

The Cowbear’s Christmas Shotgun Wedding

Liv Brywood

The Cowbear’s Christmas Shotgun Wedding

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

A Note from Liv

Chapter 1

Kate parked the truck at the entrance to her father’s ranch. A worn wooden sign depicting a bucking bronco hung off-kilter above two listing lodge poles. The words
Wrangler Ranch
, once painted a bright yellow, had faded to the putrid color of rust.

She sighed. After a lifetime of alcoholism, her father’s heart had finally given out. Good riddance. The sooner she could sell her father’s ranch, the better. She’d never intended to return to Montana, and to the horrible memories of her childhood home, but she’d had no choice. As an only child, the weight of her father’s legacy, or lack thereof, rested on her shoulders like two moldy wet bales of hay—rotten and worthless.

She jumped out to unlock the chain around the gate. As she pushed it open, the hinges screeched like a feral banshee. She made a mental note to get a can of oil from the barn. It wouldn’t be the only thing she’d have to fix in order to sell the godforsaken place.

Over a decade ago, she’d fled the house. Even then, the barn had needed repairs. She was surprised the house still stood after enduring so many years of neglect.

“I can’t wait to see how bad it is now,” she grumbled as she climbed into the warmth of the truck.

Of course her father had chosen to drop dead two weeks before Christmas. Couldn’t he have done it at a more convenient time, like the middle of summer? Selfish bastard, even in death he’d found a way to make her life miserable.

Since the road hadn’t been plowed, she carefully navigated through two-foot-high snow drifts on the way to the house. The closer she got, the more her stomach dropped. Two boarded-up windows flanked the front door. The porch leaned precariously to one side, making her question whether or not it would hold her weight. Wooden shingles hung like tears off the side of the dying building. The ranch had been in her family for four generations. Other than a few modern improvements, the original foundation and some of the original walls still stood.

Kate was half-tempted to just take out an insurance policy on the place and then burn it to the ground. It would prove to be a fine ending for the hellhole. But as much as she fantasized about insurance fraud, she could never do it. She wasn’t anything like her father and didn’t run races around the law.

With the heater on high, she let the truck idle. Part of her wanted to turn around and just let the city have the land. But in honor of her mother’s memory, she’d do what she could to make the ranch presentable for sale. God bless her mom. The woman had been a saint. She’d done her best to try to hold the family together, but how can you hold together a family with so many secrets?

After she’d stalled as long as she could, Kate left the warm, safe space of the truck and crunched through the snow toward the porch. She eyed it warily. Maybe she’d start in the barn instead. When she’d received word of her father’s death, she’d called Mack, their neighbor over at the Curvy Bear Ranch. He’d taken care of the horses until she could arrive.

The one thing she did miss about this place was the sexy Grant brothers. Every single one of them was too hot for words. Cowboys in every way, they’d been high school royalty. Captains of various sports teams, she’d spent half her teen years in awe of their quiet confidence.

Well, except for Logan.
Jackass.

Before she’d met him, she’d considered school her sanctuary. But he’d destroyed the last safe place she’d had in her life in the span of ten minutes. She’d gone from being invisible at school to being known as the girl who wore her mom’s 1970s moth-eaten wedding dress to prom. It was the only dress they owned. If she never saw him again, it would be too soon.

As she plodded through the snow, she found a fresh pair of boot prints leading to the barn. Mack must have run over at dawn to take care of the horses. Regardless, she needed to check on them. If nothing else, she’d have a better idea of how many she’d have to sell.

Large red paint chips were peeling off of the dilapidated barn. Wood rot had claimed a good portion of the left side. She hoped she wouldn’t find the same condition on the right.

She circled the building. Nope. Just as bad.

The sound of a latching gate drew her into the barn. She peered into the relative darkness.

“Hello?”

“Over here.”

A few yards down, a man popped his head over a stall. Her stomach dropped. She’d recognize that tousled chocolate-brown hair anywhere. Logan Grant—hot, cocky, and a total jerk.

She wanted to turn and run, but she steeled her spine instead. She wasn’t sixteen anymore and wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She wiped her damp palms on her jeans before stuffing them into her jacket.

A long breath later, she approached the stall. She couldn’t let him see how much she still hated him. He couldn’t know how scarred she’d been by his callous prank.

“Thanks for taking care of the horses,” she said.

“No problem,” he called over his shoulder.

Through the bars, she watched Logan bend down to touch a gray mare’s knee. When the horse picked up her hind foot, Logan placed it on his bent knee. With a hoof pick, he dug mud and manure out of the animal’s foot. She briefly contemplated opening the stall and shoving Logan into the mud as payback for being so mean to her when they were kids.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. The sooner she got rid of him, the better.

“It’s no bother.” After finishing the second hind leg, Logan brushed his hands across the front of his pants then looked up. He froze, his eyes wide. “Wow.”

“What?” She self-consciously glanced at her outfit.

“Nothing. You’re just not a beanpole anymore.”

“I gained a bit of weight after I left.”

More than a little bit, but who was counting? She didn’t give a shit what he thought about her now. The fluttering in her gut had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her hatred of being back on the ranch.

His gaze raked down from her face past her breasts, across her hips, and down to her toes before returning to her eyes. “Being away has been good to you.”

“Thanks.”

“God, I’m sorry. Where the hell are my manners? I’m sorry about your dad. He was a good man.”

“Thanks.” She stiffened but didn’t correct him.

“Are you back for good now?” he asked.

“No. I’m just clearing out his stuff and then I’m selling the ranch. I’m going back to Boise as soon as I sell it.”

“Oh, I thought maybe you’d be staying.”

“Have you seen this place? It’s a wreck. I’m half-tempted to just burn down the house and sell the land as-is,” she said.

“Don’t do that. It just needs some help. Things are somewhat slow at the ranch right now. I could come over and fix a few things for you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m going to sell it as-is. The sooner I can leave, the better.”

“This place will fetch a good price if you make a few improvements. It shouldn’t take me longer than a week to fix up the windows and level the porch,” he said.

“Why would you want to help me?”

“Because we’re neighbors. That’s what we do in this town.”

“But the barn’s rotting, and who knows what it’s like inside the house. It’s too big of a job to do in a few days. I don’t plan on staying here longer than a week. Just long enough to sell it,” she said.

He stepped out of the stall. “Let’s go take a look.”

“Now’s not a good time.”

“It’ll just take a few minutes.” He flashed a devilish smile that would have melted her panties ten years ago. But not now. Now she knew better.

Although it was damn hard to ignore his carnal appeal. With a strong square jaw and a hint of stubble, he looked like the Marlboro man. A black Stetson hung low across his eyes. A denim jacket barely contained his broad chest and thick arms. Snug jeans hugged his thighs. A pair of black cowboy boots poked out from under his pants.

With less than a few feet separating them, she caught a whiff of his minty aftershave. He smelled good enough to eat. Too bad he was a total jerk.

“I have a lot to do and I need to get started,” she said. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I can handle this place myself.”

“You sure?” As if trying to get a better look at her, he lifted his hat up and repositioned it on his head.

“I don’t need any help.”

“Suit yourself.” He strolled to the entrance of the barn then stopped and turned to her. “I guess I was just hoping we’d get to spend some time together.”

“And why would I want to do that?” she asked.

“Because you can’t take your eyes off of me.” He flashed a cocky grin.

“Ugh.” She stomped toward him then jabbed a finger in his chest. “You are an asshole.”

“I
was
an asshole,” he corrected.

She blanched before narrowing her eyes. “I have no intention of doing anything but selling this ranch. Once I’ve sold it, I’m leaving for good.”

“I could help you with that.”

“Why?”

“Consider it penance for being too big for my britches during high school,” he said.

She frowned. He couldn’t actually have changed, could he?

He grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow at first light. We’ll start with the windows.”

“But I—”

“Sunrise. I’ll bring breakfast.” He winked and tipped his hat as he backed out of the door.

She stepped into the open air and stared at his back as he strolled down the road toward the Curvy Bear Ranch. What the hell just happened? He’d basically invited himself over to work on her house. But why? What was he after? He couldn’t be doing it out of the goodness of his heart. He wasn’t that kind of man.

After securing the barn, she returned to the truck and pulled out a single bag of luggage. She didn’t anticipate staying longer than a week. She’d be back in Boise with plenty of time to spare before Christmas. Her cat, Mittens, was waiting for her, and she didn’t want to put the neighbor who was taking care of her out any longer than necessary.

As she climbed the creaking porch, she eyed the broken slats. Hopefully she wouldn’t fall through one of the dark holes before she made it inside.

***

Logan slammed the back paddock gate closed. He turned toward the delivery driver who was leaning against an idling cattle truck. “Got something for me to sign?”

“Fifty head of cattle, ten horses. Sign here.”

Logan snatched the pen from the driver’s hand and scribbled his signature. “I hope you’re not late next time.”

“You can’t always predict road conditions in the winter,” Hank said as he strolled up. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, he’s in a mood today.”

The driver chuckled. “Woman problems?”

“No,” Logan snapped.

“It’s woman problems,” Hank said with a grin.

“Best not to get hitched up to one. All’s I need is my rig and a cold one. Good enough for me. I best get going. Storm’s coming in from the north.”

Hank said, “You might want to hole up in West Yellowstone and leave after they clear the roads in the morning.”

“Nah, I’ve been driving thirty years. Unless it’s a blizzard, I’ll be fine. Oh, I forgot to mention, that cow’s been bellyachin’ a good long while. You boys might want to tend to her.”

“Will do,” Hank said.

As the driver hopped into the rig, Logan turned to Hank. “I’m not in a bad mood.”

“The hell you aren’t. Ever since you got back from old man Wrangler’s place, you’ve been in a foul mood. What happened over there? Horse kick you in the ass?”

“Kate’s back.”

“I heard. Too bad about her old man.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Pissy as a mare in heat,” Logan said.

“What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do a damn thing. She’s pissed at me for some reason. Thinks I’m an asshole,” Logan said.

“You did tease the hell out of her when we were kids.”

“We were kids. We’re not kids anymore. That woman can sure hold onto a grudge.”

“Do you blame her? You used to chase her around the schoolyard calling her ‘beanpole.’”

“She was skinny as a rail. I wasn’t wrong about that,” Logan said.

“She still that skinny?”

“No. Not by a long shot.” His groin stirred. His damn body had reacted to her like she’d been traipsing around naked. And he hadn’t seen more than a hint of skin at her throat. It was that ass—curvy and firm—she’d filled out in all the right places.

“Fat then?” Hank asked.

“Nope. Curvy. Hippy even, but in a good way. The kind of hips that can drive a man crazy.”

Hank glanced at him. “Crazy, hmm? I might have to go get a look at her.”

“You might want to wait. She wasn’t too friendly with me.”

Logan’s bear growled. At first, he couldn’t figure out why, but then he sensed a hint of jealousy. Really? Jealous of what? If Hank wanted to go sniffing around her, why not? Logan sure as heck didn’t have any claim over her.