The Billionbear's Bride: BBW Bear Shifter BWWM Paranormal Romance (7 page)

BOOK: The Billionbear's Bride: BBW Bear Shifter BWWM Paranormal Romance
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A movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye. Violet’s mouth fell open in shock. An enormous shape lumbered across the landscape.

Halfway there, it seemed to sense something. Its heavy bulk stilled, and its head raised—to look right at her.

It was a
bear
.

A thrill of excitement shot down her spine. It was so close to the house—was it not afraid?

There was something familiar about it, but Violet couldn’t put her finger on what. It was formidable—there was a lot of muscle packed onto its huge frame. But it gave no sign of wanting to attack her. In fact, it seemed transfixed.

Feeling a bit silly, Violet raised her hand and gave it a little wave.

She expected no response. But after a moment, the bear tipped its head toward her. Like a nod, she thought, and a giggle burst out of her. A gentleman bear. The surreality of the situation felt dreamlike, as if anything might happen. Yet she felt perfectly safe.

It shambled off to God knew where, and when it disappeared the spell it had woven over her broke. Violet shook her head at herself. Of course there would be wild animals out here. And of course a bear didn’t understand human gestures like waving and nodding.

So why wasn’t she afraid?

Violet couldn’t answer that. But she wrapped herself in that sense of safety and contentment, and went back to bed.

 

Chapter Eight

 

Bruce

 

"This is my mother, Ava. Mom, this is Violet, my . . . wife." Bruce almost slipped up and called her
mate
, but he was more worried about the meeting that was taking place amid the clamor and festivity of a Davis party—and his mother's reaction.

"It's so great to meet you," Violet gushed, extending her hand to Bruce's mother. "Bruce has told me so much about his family."

For a moment, Bruce thought his mother might not take the offered hand. But then she did, and the tense line that had run through her shoulders since she'd arrived eased.

"Now your family as well," his mother said, graciously enough, making Violet smile. "Though this was all a little
sudden
, I can see how much Bruce cares for you."

Bruce gave his mother a warning look, which she returned with innocence and a hint of "
we'll talk about this later
."

However, it turned out that
later
was
now
. Tom, his second cousin, sidled up to Violet and slung a friendly arm around her shoulders—a little
too
friendly for Bruce's taste. His bear growled at Tom's presumption, and his hand tightened on Violet's. She squeezed back and flashed him a reassuring smile.

"Look at this. Bruce found himself a babe." Tom winked and gesticulated with his beer bottle. Bruce's irritation with him grew. Tom might be family, but sometimes he was a little much. And sometimes he needed to be put in his place.

"Tom …" he said warningly, and let his rising bear flash in his eyes.

Of course, that didn't deter Tom, who was an incorrigible flirt and self-proclaimed ladies' man. Tom gave his wife a blazing smile. "Know how to square dance?"

Violet giggled uncertainly before glancing at Bruce. "Um, no, I don't."

Tom held out a hand, more than a little mischief glinting in his blue gaze. "I'd be more than happy to teach you."

Rolling her eyes and laughing, Violet accepted his cousin's hand and did a little twirl, to Tom's obvious delight.

"Be nice," warned Bruce.

Tom smirked. "Don't worry, I plan to be
very
nice."

Tom was walking a thin line between friendly banter and a real challenge. Bruce could have ordered him to stand down—as the alpha of the clan, Tom would have to obey. But the reception had gone well so far, and he didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for Violet, or reveal their true nature as bear shifters.

While Tom whisked Violet away for a square dancing lesson, Bruce was left alone with his mother. It was the opportunity she had been waiting for all night, he suspected.

"You're not happy, I take it," he said before she could say anything.

The corner of her mouth twisted. "I
am
happy for you."

"But you would have been happier if we made an alliance with Whitebeam."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Can't say I'm not disappointed. Those bears are disappointed too."

He couldn't blame them for that, he supposed. An alliance between their two clans would have made for one very powerful bear family. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a flash of Violet’s bright dress and had a surge of jealous irritation. He clamped down on it.

Her voice softened. "But I know it's no good to argue with you about it. I see the way you look at her. It’s the same way I felt about your father. There's no mistaking your mate."

This surprised Bruce, who thought she had always seemed unsentimental in her partnership with his father. He had always known she loved him, of course, but she had tended to be reserved and undemonstrative in her affection toward everyone, including Bruce. Once in a while, he had even wondered whether she and his father really were mates, or whether theirs was some kind of arranged partnership.

This unexpected revelation led to a surge of affection for his mother. “I didn’t know what to expect at all,” he confessed. “It took me by surprise. I had no idea what it would be like, meeting my mate.”

His mother’s eyes were suspiciously bright as she looked at him. “No one ever does. Now”—her tone was suddenly more businesslike—“it looks like you’ll have to rescue your lady.” She patted him on the arm.

The song had ended, but Tom was still dancing with Violet—and touching her possessively, as if she were
his
. His hand slid into the small of Violet’s back, and Bruce’s bear took over.

Striding across the floor, Bruce snatched back his new bride from his interloper cousin, sliding an arm around her shoulders. She smiled at him, looking more than a little relieved, and slid one of her hands into his.

“Cut in?” he asked pleasantly, giving Tom a hard look that said
back off
in blinking, neon letters.

“We were just dancing,” said Tom. He was enjoying himself. “Feeling a little jealous? Don’t trust your mate with another man?”

That brought out Bruce’s growl—a deep rumble emanating from his chest that signified his alpha leadership. If Tom kept pushing, he would have a challenge on his hands. He knew he could win a fight against Tom; that wasn’t the problem. The problem was what Violet would think about it.

For a moment he thought Tom would push it. There was a hard look in his eyes. But something on Bruce’s face must have given him pause, because a second later he held up his hands in surrender.

“Jeez, Bruce, take a joke.”

Bruce glared at his retreating back.

Next to him Violet giggled uncertainly. “What was that, some macho man pissing contest?”

“… Something like that.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when he pulled me away,” she pointed out, with a light, teasing smile. “What changed?”

“I was trying to be nice.”

Her hand squeezed his. “So was I, you know. You can cut in anytime, by the way.”

Bruce smiled down at her. They weren’t really dancing, but swaying gently. There wasn’t any music, but their bodies were in perfect sync with each other. “I’ll remember that, Mrs. Violet Davis.”

Her smile lit up her face, and she tucked herself more securely into his side. “I haven’t changed my name yet.”

“No?”

Shyly she looked down. “I didn’t know if there would be a point if we were just going to …”

If we were just going to break up anyway
. That was what she was going to say.

Bruce’s lips brushed her temple. “Maybe I’ll change my name,” he suggested lightly.

Silent laughter shook her body. “That would definitely cap the weirdness of this week.”

“Weirdness? What weirdness?”

He must have sounded concerned, because she rushed to reassure him. “Oh, it wasn’t that bad. I’ve just never lived out in the country. You know what I saw the other night?”

Bruce stiffened. “What?”

“A
bear
.” But oddly, she was beaming. “An honest-to-God bear. Talk about wildlife.”

“You weren’t scared?” he asked cautiously.

“No. Well, not really.” She frowned. “I guess that’s weird, isn’t it? But I felt totally safe.”

That’s because you were
, thought Bruce, but he couldn’t say that.

After their passionate kiss on the porch the night before, Bruce had recalled Wanda’s words from earlier. She was, understandably, worried for her friend; their “acting” during dinner had been a little too good. A little too
real
. So she cornered him about it after dessert under the pretense of talking about work. He had confessed that Violet really was his mate.

Instead of calming Wanda down, that had only stoked her ire.

“And you haven’t told her about—you know?” his assistant had hissed, arms akimbo. In this state, even his bear didn’t want to mess with her. “This is my
friend
, you said you would.”

“I’m waiting for the right time,” he’d replied testily.

“There’s no
right time
to tell anyone you can turn into a grizzly! I’m not keeping this secret from her for you. You tell her, or I will.”

She had a point, he had to admit. But with his bear clan coming over to celebrate and her nervousness about meeting his family, it seemed like extra-terrible timing at the moment. Just a few days, he’d assured her.

The guilt of keeping a secret from her had made him pull away from Violet on the porch, even though he had ached to sweep her up in his arms and head straight for the master bedroom. It had left him irritable and poor company, so he’d headed outdoors and shifted to his bear form to let off some steam.

Being a bear was sometimes easier than being human. Even though he was still
himself
, a bear’s mind was more clear, its emotions less complicated. Bears didn’t know how to untangle difficult situations; they didn’t care about anything but their next meal and protecting what was theirs.

That had lasted until he’d seen her standing by the window, cupping something in her hands. She was wearing a nightgown, something flimsy, and the sight of her had stopped him in his tracks. He wanted to fill his eyes with her sumptuous curves and lovely smile.

He knew then that he would do anything for her. It was more than just the bear’s recognition of its mate. It was love, the real love of knowing someone.

Bruce blinked, putting those thoughts aside for the moment.

“Don’t get too friendly with the grizzlies,” he joked uneasily. After all, there were other bears in the forest—not all of them shifters, and none but himself dedicated to protecting her.

“You’ll protect me.”

Sweet words; he couldn’t help but lean down and press his lips to hers. It was the kiss of a moment, spontaneous and genuine. She responded without hesitation, leaning in to him with soft lips.

His hand slid up her back, feeling her warm skin underneath the fabric. A memory rustled awake: her body stretched out underneath his, her beautiful curves to touch and hold, hot kisses and breathy moans. As he deepened the kiss, she made a tantalizing sound in the back of her throat.

“Uncle Bruce?” asked a young, tremulous voice from behind him. “Is that you?”

Violet froze, and a startled giggle emerged from her. “Um, I think we have company. Someone wants to see you,” she whispered against his lips.

Bruce half-thought of ignoring it in favor of whisking Violet into his arms right there, but then he realized who the voice belonged to. It was his nephew Jackson, who hadn’t yet met Violet.

“Why don’t you hug him and find out?” he challenged, turning around.

The boy squealed in delight before taking off like a tiny torpedo in Bruce’s direction. Bruce held out his arms, scooped up his nephew, and tossed him in the air in one smooth moment before catching him. Jackson’s wild curls blew everywhere and he shrieked with joy.

Jackson abruptly went quiet when he spotted Violet, reverting back to his shy nature.

“Jackson, meet Violet. She’s my wife. Violet, this is my nephew Jackson.”

Jackson’s eyes were wide. “You’re pretty,” the toddler blurted out, then buried his face in Bruce’s shirt.

Violet visibly stifled a giggle. “Thank you, Jackson. How old are you?”

With a look of intense concentration on his face, Jackson held up three sticky fingers.

“Don’t lie,” Bruce scolded softly. “Your birthday isn’t until next month.”

“’M
almost
three,” said Jackson mutinously.

“Nice to meet you, Jackson,” said Violet, affection shining in her eyes. She reached out to shake Jackson’s little hand, making the toddler beam. Bruce’s heart tightened at the sight. He hadn’t ever asked her about kids—if she wanted them, if she even liked them.

But now he could imagine her with them, with
his
kids. Playing with them, fixing up their scratches and bruises, putting them to bed at night . . . She would be a loving, patient mother—the perfect mate and
mother
.

“You kissed Uncle Bruce,” said Jackson.

Violet hesitated. “Yep, I did.”

“Are you gonna have cubs?” he said, as if reading Bruce’s mind. Bruce held his breath, waiting in suspense for her answer.

Violet’s forehead wrinkled at what must have seemed to her an odd word choice. “I . . . don’t know,” she said with a quick glance at Bruce. “I guess we’ll find out in the future, huh?”

“Okay.” That answer seemed to content Jackson, who rubbed his eyes.

Bruce sent the little boy back to his parents. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly. “He’s a little over-curious.”

Violet tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow comfortably. “That’s okay. I like kids.” Then, lower,
sotto voce
, “Your family is probably wondering where we are and what we’re doing. Maybe we should rejoin them before they get too suspicious.”

He gave a mock-sigh. “You’re probably right.”

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