Craved by the Bear (Trapped in Bear Canyon Book 2) Read online

  Craved by the Bear

  Terry Bolryder

  Contents

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Sample of Sheltered by the Bear

  Also by Terry Bolryder

  Copyright © 2017 by Terry Bolryder

  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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Rosalyn Morton knew she was in trouble before the door to her bar even opened, just by the scent of overpowering, sour cologne that wafted in ahead of her visitor.

  A prickle of apprehension like the feeling before a rainstorm ran through her and she set down the rag she’d been using in anticipation of needing to escape to the back room.

  “Ros,” a deep, confident voice said as the door pushed open.

  She fought back a groan as Connor Tipton, arrogant and presumptuous as ever, walked into the bar as if he was always invited.

  “We’re closed,” she said, edging out from behind the bar.

  Connor moved faster than a man of his size should be able to, cutting off her way to the door. He put an arm out in front of her, filling the air with his pungent, smoky cologne. Heaven save her from amorous male bear shifters.

  She coughed, waving a hand in front of her face, and tried to dodge out of his grasp. He caught her by the hand, and she hated the feel of it.

  She whipped around to face him, jerking her hand away. “Don’t touch me unless I invite you to,” she snapped. She was still a female bear shifter and she was done putting up with this. Connor had been growing increasingly aggressive, especially since her father had been sick and more absent.

  She worried what she would do when he was gone. But the thought hurt her heart, so she pushed it away.

  “When are you going to invite me, then?” Connor asked, caging her back against the bar with his long arms. He was clearly wearing his best flannel, and his beard looked carefully groomed. His longish blond-brown hair was sort of slicked back. “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

  “Never. I don’t want you for a mate,” she said, trying to push past him. Damn, he was big.

  “What are your other options, honey?” he said in a sneering voice. “I’ve seen you pine over those Brolin brothers, but they aren’t gonna stay in Bear Canyon. You need to pick a real man. One who can live here with you. Manage the bar. Take care of you.”

  His breath was artificially sweetened with gum to smell minty, but it didn’t overcome the power of his cologne.

  “Ugh,” she said, pushing him back with a shove. “No thanks. And I’ll be fine on my own, thank you.”

  “What will you do when the Brawl happens?” he asked, following her toward the back door again. He backed her into the corner, giving her no escape. She was going to choke on cologne. “Your old man is friends with my dad. I know he’s sick. You’re going to have men all over this place and no Mort to keep them in line. What’ll you do then? An unmated she-bear?” He clicked his tongue. “That’s dangerous.”

  “The Brolins will be in town then,” she said warily. “I’m sure they’ll keep an eye on me.”

  “The Brolins only care about the Brawl,” he said. “You know that.”

  That wasn’t completely true, but it was true that they had left town and only checked in occasionally. Rock, the one she was closest to, only came back for the annual Brawl.

  He wouldn’t be here in the meantime. He couldn’t be depended on for things like this. She’d have to learn to manage on her own.

  Connor flattened a hand against the wall and used the other to reach for her chin. She jerked her head away, but he still caught her. Tears bit at her eyes. Not so much at the helplessness of the moment, but at how damn tired she was.

  Of managing the bar, of being in love with a man who couldn’t stay in Bear Canyon, of feeling alone and vulnerable all the time no matter how she tried to stay strong.

  Soon, she wouldn’t just feel alone, she’d be alone.

  “Face it, sweetheart,” Connor sneered. “You need a man around here.” He released her face, and she looked away, anger burning through her unshed tears.

  “She has a man around here,” a new voice interrupted.

  Ros looked up in total shock to see the last person she expected, someone she seemed to have somehow summoned through sheer magic.

  Rock Brolin, in all his dark-haired, stormy-eyed, leather-wearing glory, stood in the doorway.

  And he was pissed.

  He looked the same as he had months ago, with silky dark hair that passed his chin and just brushed his shoulders. He styled it that way to minimize the long, rippled scar that ran down the side of his strikingly handsome face from his temple to his jaw.

  He was still tall, so tall as to be intimidating if not for the easy smile he always wore on his face. One that was noticeably gone now.

  Connor looked over his shoulder, unamused. “Get lost, Brolin.”

  “Eat shit, Connor,” Rock said, striding toward them, cracking his neck and then his knuckles. “And get away from my mate.”

  She blinked in shock and saw Connor react as well, though he tried to look unconcerned.

  “Your mate? As if you’d ever stay in Bear Canyon.”

  “What I do is none of your business, douchebag,” Rock said, putting a hand on his shoulder and turning Connor to face him. “Unless you refuse to get your ass out of here right now. Then you’ll be my business for the last five seconds of your miserable life.”

  “She isn’t yours,” Connor spat, twisting out of his grip and heading for the door, sending her a resentful glance that promised he’d be back. “You can’t just keep other males away when there are some that are actually willing to stay and protect her.” He got to the door and looked over his shoulder, muttering, “Asshole.”

  Then he disappeared, letting the door swing shut behind him.

  Ros could hardly believe it was over that easily. Then again, there weren’t many men in town who would willingly take on a Brolin.

  Rock looked down at her, hair sliding over his face, shading one eye. She flushed, walking past him to take off her apron and set it on the bar.

  He caught her by the elbow, and she was amazed by how different it felt when Rock touched her. Soft, gentle, pleading, despite his huge size and immense strength.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  She looked up at him, still lightly trying to jerk away. He let her go, and she found she kind of regretted it. “Yes. Thanks to you.” She brushed her blond hair back into her ponytail. “But what are you doing in Bear Canyon?”

  “You mean because it’s not time for the brawl?”

  “Yeah,” she said, pulling away from him, unable to bear the closeness.

  Rock Brolin had always been forbidden fruit. He tortured her every time he came for the brawl, drinking in the back of her bar every night and peppering her with drunk confessions.

  But then he always left, and always would, because his childhood memories made it too painful to stay.

  He leaned a hip o
n one of the stools at the bar. “Well, you know how Riker took a mate and moved out?”

  Riker was his older brother, who had always watched over the town until this last year, when he found a replacement. “Yes. Francis took his place.”

  “Right,” Rock said. “I’m just here to check in on things, see how he’s doing. Help out for a while if he needs it.”

  “I think he’s been doing great. He’s been very helpful.”

  Rock snorted, narrowing his eyes. “Helpful to you?”

  She flushed slightly. “I wouldn’t say that. I mean, I haven’t really seen him. He’s mostly helping the older people. We’re doing just fine here at the bar. But I hear good things.”

  “Are you doing fine?” Rock asked, raising an eyebrow. Her flush deepened. Her eyes darted away from his when he said it. He reached over and caught her lightly by the chin, turning her toward him. “Hey, you would tell me if you needed something, right? If you had trouble.”

  She jerked out of his hold. “What would be the point of it? You’re never here.”

  “I’m here now,” he said.

  “And you’ll leave after you do what you came for.”

  His gaze darkened. “Not if you need me. I’m not that useless, Ros.”

  I always need you, she thought to herself. But he didn’t need to know that. She knew why he couldn’t stay.

  “Anyway, thanks for chasing Connor off, but I’m afraid you’ve only caused me more problems,” she said wearily.

  He sat on the stool in front of him. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

  “You called me your mate. That has consequences, you know? It’s just going to make things harder with Connor.”

  “Why?” Rock asked.

  “Because you aren’t my mate,” she said impatiently. “Now you’ve set him off, and he’s going to see you as competition and just try that much harder to claim me.”

  “And I won’t let him. No problem,” Rock said flatly. He cracked a nut he’d taken from the bowl on top of the bar. “Is he the only one?”

  His nose was oddly perfect, straight and so sharp as to almost be delicate, but not when paired with his strong, handsome jaw, which was lightly shaded with dark stubble. His lips were deeply curved at the top with sinful dimples on either side of them when he smiled.

  And Rock smiled a lot. Mean smiles, teasing smiles, sweet smiles. Angry smiles. As if everything could be hidden that way.

  “What did you say?” she asked, realizing she’d forgotten.

  “I said, is he the only one?” He tossed a shell in the trash can, aiming expertly. He was a perfect physical specimen in every way, obviously. Everyone knew if he or his brothers ever entered the Brawl, there’d be no contest. Instead, they merely organized it, and it was Rock’s job to keep all the fighters in line when they weren’t in the ring.

  “No,” she said. “I mean, obviously, the occasional patron gets out of line.” She nodded at the shotgun on the wall. “Nothing I can’t handle, usually.”

  “But not Connor,” he said.

  “He’s my dad’s friend,” she said. “He knows—” She cut herself off. “He just… I can’t shoot at him.”

  “I think you can,” Rock said. “He was getting way too close for comfort.”

  “For whose comfort?” she asked, her eyes flashing. She undid her ponytail and let the hair fall, running her fingers through it to shake it loose, sighing in relief. “What if I’m fine with him?”

  “Looked to me like he was trapping you,” he said.

  She sighed. “Maybe.” Like bears in the wild, bear shifter males sometimes got the idea that the right way to convince a female to mate with him was just to catch her alone without another male and follow her or corner her until she gave in.

  Only the bad shifters though. The stupid ones. She couldn’t see any of the Brolins doing something like that to a female. Then again, they wouldn’t need to. They were all drop-dead gorgeous, successful and fun to be around.

  Even men looked up to them.

  “I could claim you,” Rock said. “That could put him off your trail.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Mate-claiming was a serious thing, even more than marriage, for a shifter. “You wouldn’t. You aren’t staying.”

  He frowned. “Do I need to? It would protect you even when I’m gone, and I’m not planning to take a mate, so I wouldn’t mind doing it. You’d have my scent on you. Everyone would know not to mess with you.”

  “No,” she said sharply. It was one thing to hear his stupid, drunk marriage proposals. But she couldn’t stand his thoughtless words about mating. “When I do take a mate, if I take a mate, I want it to be someone I can grow old with. Someone who is always around.” Not a gorgeous stuntman who blew in like a storm and always blew out with part of her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just trying to help.” He shook his hair, letting some fall back over his face, over his scar.

  “You don’t have to cover it for me, you know,” she said softly.

  “I know,” he said. “Just a habit. People stare at it.”

  “What do you tell them?” she asked.

  He grinned, leaning back on the stool. “I have lots of different stories. Car crash. Boat explosion.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Bear attack.”

  She frowned. “Not funny.”

  He shrugged. “So what do you want to do about this, then?”

  “About what?” she asked, coming out from around the bar.

  “About Connor. Or about any guy who gets ideas. With your dad not here, I mean.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I could have handled it.” She had to be able to handle it on her own. Because as nice as it was to have Rock around, he just wasn’t going to be there on a long-term basis. Very soon, she would be alone.

  “Could you?” he asked, getting off his stool and coming in front of her. She tried to get around him, but he blocked her. “Could you, little bear?”

  She felt tears prick her eyes and gave him a hard shove, growling. He stumbled back.

  “Damn, girl,” he said, rubbing his chest. “Maybe you can.”

  She moved to walk past him, ready to just hang the “closed” sign on the bar and give herself a much-needed break, but he stepped in front of her again, his expression gentle.

  “Look at me, Ros,” he said, and she did, feeling commanded by the alpha tone of his voice.

  He brushed her hair back, stroking her cheek with one thumb. “I promise, the guys and me aren’t going to let anything happen to you, okay? You’re part of Bear Canyon, and regardless of how this place makes me feel, we’re responsible for it. Plus, you always took care of us when we needed you.” He pulled her into his arms for a big hug, and she didn’t fight back, sinking into him. “Let us take care of you.”

  His arms seemed to totally encase her, and she closed her eyes, treasuring his warmth, his strength, how safe she felt. How long had it been since she felt so protected?

  She was a grown woman. She should be fine on her own. Yet here in fierce bear country, with guys like Connor trying to take liberties, it was nice to not have to fight for a moment.

  He stroked a hand through her hair. “Maybe you really should marry me. Leave Bear Canyon. I could keep you safe.”

  She shook her head and pushed away. “No,” she said. “I know you hate it here, but this is my home.” She put her arms around herself and stared at the floor. “This place is my dad’s. And I’ve always been here with him. This is his legacy, and I’m going to keep it alive.”

  He stared at her. “Even if he dies?”

  She glared at him, hating the flat look in his eyes. How could he mention such a thing to her? How could he be so cold?

  “I talked to Francis. He said your dad isn’t doing well. He said—”

  “I can guess what he said,” she snapped. “And I don’t need your help if you’re going to talk about my dad like that.”

  “I’m just being frank, Ros—”

  “Abou
t something I’m not ready to talk about,” she said. “Something that will destroy me when it happens.” She pushed him toward the door. Suddenly, she just wanted to be alone. “Not all of us have asshole dads, Rock.”

  Rock took a long breath, seeming to grow even taller and more intimidating as he did. “Ros, I didn’t mean anything rude by it. You know I don’t have any manners to speak of. Or filters. I just mean what are you going to do when he’s gone?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll get along just fine. Like I always have.” But really, she had no idea.

  She hated that a moment ago, she’d felt safe in Rock’s arms, and now she just wanted to punt him out of her life so he couldn’t say hurtful words and remind her of problems for which there were no solutions.

  “Anyway,” he said. “As long as I’m here, I’m going to keep an eye on the situation.”

  “Ah,” she said. “Meaning you’re going to come here, get sloppy drunk, propose to me, and get in fights that will damage our property?”

  He nodded. “If that’s what it takes to protect you.”

  She shook her head. “No, Rock. I’m dealing with enough right now. I can’t deal with your shenanigans on top of that. It’s fine if you want to come drink and escape, but leave me out of it.”

  He bit his lip, exhaling through his nose. “What if I didn’t drink?”

  “Ha!” she said. “Impossible.”

  “No,” he said, catching her elbows with his hands and bending down slightly so she could look in his eyes. They were gray, serious, and she could have stared into them forever. “I mean it. This time I won’t drink.”

  She sighed. “Fine. We’ll see.”

  “I’ll be back for the evening rush,” he said, heading to the door with a wave. His big shoulders blocked all the light, casting shadows around him. “And you’ll see a new Rock. I promise.”

  She sighed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  He headed out into the sunlight, and she groaned and sat back on a stool, somehow wishing she could follow him.

  2