Daddy Bear
Laylah Roberts
Laylah Roberts
Daddy Bear
© 2019, Laylah Roberts
[email protected]
laylahroberts.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Cover Design by: Allycat Designs
Editing: Celeste Jones
Created with Vellum
Contents
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Books by Laylah Roberts
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
Epilogue
Daddy’s Little Darling
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Books by Laylah Roberts
Doms of Decadence
Just for You, Sir
Forever Yours, Sir
For the Love of Sir
Sinfully Yours, Sir
Make me, Sir
A Taste of Sir
To Save Sir
Sir’s Redemption
Reveal Me, Sir
Old-Fashioned Series
An Old-Fashioned Man
Two Old-Fashioned Men
Her Old-Fashioned Husband
Her Old-Fashioned Boss
His Old-Fashioned Love
An Old-Fashioned Christmas
Haven, Texas Series
Lila’s Loves
Laken’s Surrender
Saving Savannah
Molly’s Man
Saxon’s Soul
Mastered by Malone
Montana Daddies
Daddy Bear
Wildeside
Wilde
Sinclair
Luke
The Hunters
A Mate to Cherish
A Mate to Sacrifice
Men of Orion
Worlds Apart
Cavan Gang
Rectify
Redemption
Redemption Valley
Audra’s Awakening
1
She was so lost.
Ellie gripped the steering wheel so tight her fingers ached as she stared out at the snow-covered road. This was not good. Not good at all.
Her car wasn’t equipped to handle these conditions. Hell, she wasn’t equipped to handle these conditions. She was from Miami, she wasn’t used to snow.
At least the heater in her car worked, but if she didn’t get to her aunt’s place soon, she was going to be in real trouble. She was so scared. She didn’t have a clue about how to drive in these conditions.
She flicked a quick glance at the gas gauge. She’d put twenty dollar’s worth of gas in this morning, thinking that would be enough. But she hadn’t counted on getting stuck in a damn snow storm.
Why hadn’t she checked the weather forecast? She should have waited this storm out somewhere safe before continuing on.
Right. And what sort of motel was she going to find that cost around forty-eight dollars and ninety-cents? ‘Cause that’s all she had left of the money she’d taken when she’d left her parents’ house.
She still felt guilty about that and damn it, she shouldn’t. How long had she put her life on hold to take care of them? They had lied to her. Deceived her. Fuck, how could she have been so damn naïve?
Her eyes filled with tears, their betrayal still raw and cutting. She needed to stop being such a pushover. She’d spent years of her life looking after others. Putting herself last. Doing what she thought was her duty, because they were her parents and they loved her.
You owe us, Ellen.
If you walk out that door you are nothing to us. Don’t ever come back.
A sob welled in her chest. Hadn’t she done enough crying already? They didn’t deserve her tears.
You are no longer our daughter.
It was time to take charge of her life. She was twenty-three years old and she’d never had sex. Hell, she’d never even been on a proper date. And her last kiss had been from Boomer Marston in the back of his pick-up. He’d managed to get his hand up her top to squeeze her breast.
It hadn’t exactly been a first kiss to remember. But it was all she had. What would her life would now be like if she hadn’t done as her parents ordered and broken things off with him?
She could be Mrs. Boomer Palmer. She grimaced. Eleanor Palmer. Yuck. Would she and Boomer now have a passel of little Boomers and Boomettes running around? She risked letting go of the steering wheel to quickly wipe at her face, her vision blurring with tears. She needed to pull herself together.
She turned a corner of the road and a cry escaped her as her heart went into overdrive. A huge tree blocked the road and she was headed straight towards it. Reaching instinctively, she slammed her foot on the brakes.
Her car fishtailed, unable to gain traction on the icy road. It spun, sliding towards the side of the road. Large trees loomed, looking menacing in the near dark and she frantically turned the wheel, trying to get her car back under control. It didn’t respond. The car smashed into a tree, coming to a brutal stop. Her head snapped forward, slamming against the steering wheel. Her vision blurred, blackness creeping around her vision as she slipped into unconsciousness.
* * *
Bear studied the deteriorating weather and knew it would be foolish to attempt to make it back to the ranch tonight. Using the Bluetooth system, he put a call through to the security center at Sanctuary.
“Sanctuary Ranch, you’re talking with Corbin.”
He kept his gaze on the road, dropping his speed slightly. Things were getting ugly out here.
“It’s Bear. Not gonna make it back tonight.”
Sanctuary had been his home since he was a child. When he’d left school, it had felt natural to stay on and work there. He’d never had the desire to go anywhere else. It was where people accepted him, his desires, his needs. Because the people who lived and worked there shared his views. There was a special set of criteria anyone hired on had to fulfill.
Clint Jensen ran the ranch that his great-great-grandfather had set up with his brother. They’d wanted a place where they could live in peace with their wife. Who they shared. Back then, that must have caused a huge stir and he couldn’t blame them for wanting to shelter their wife from any ridicule.
They’d only allowed like-minded people to join them on the ranch. Men who wanted a different sort of relationship. Men who believed that women should be sheltered, coddled and taken in hand when necessary. Clint had followed in his great-great-grandfather’s shoes.
Bear didn’t know if he’d ever be able to fall in love again. He’d been burned once. He’d thought himself in love and it turned out she’d only been using him. She’d lied to him. Deceived him.
“Roger that,” Corbin replied. “Where are you at?”
Bear looked around him. “I’m about an hour south of the ranch but the snow is coming down fast. Not much poi
nt in carrying on. I’m going to head to the cabin.”
Clint’s dad had built a cabin not too far from the ranch for the times he wanted to get away for a bit of solitude with his wife. Bear had used it a time or two himself when he’d wanted to do some hunting.
He’d already passed the first turn-off that lead to the cabin, but there was another road up further he could take. He turned the corner, immediately saw a huge tree blocking the road.
“Shit!”
“Bear? Everything okay?” Corbin’s voice lacked its earlier lazy tone. Now he was all business.
He didn’t answer, his heart racing as he spotted the car off to one side, the front of it crumpled where it had crashed against another big tree.
“Fuck! There’s a car crashed to the side of the road, I’m going to stop and check there’s no one inside.”
And if there is, please let them be alive.
He gradually took his foot off the accelerator, slowing down. He hadn’t been going very fast, and luckily, he’d put his snow tires on his truck the other day.
“Let me know what’s going on and if you need help,” Corbin replied calmly. “I’ll let Clint and Kent know what’s happened. I’ll also alert the authorities about the tree blocking the road.”
“Got it. Will check in soon.”
He left his truck running, switched on the hazards in case anyone came around the corner behind him, although most sane people wouldn’t be out in this weather. He pulled on some gloves and grabbed his jacket, dragging it on before stepping out. Bear moved around the truck and opened up the storage unit he kept in the back. It contained a flashlight, an emergency foil blanket and a first aid kit along with a shovel and some flares. He grabbed the flashlight, since it was growing darker.
He liked to be prepared.
“Hello?” he called out as he approached the other vehicle. “Anyone in the car?”
It had stopped running. He wondered how long it had been sitting here.
“Hello?”
No answer. Shit. He had a bad feeling about this. He moved to the driver’s side first and peered in.
A woman lay slumped over the steering wheel, her dark hair around her face. She wasn’t moving. He quickly ran the flashlight over the rest of the car but didn’t see anyone else. He opened the driver’s door.
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
Nothing. He wrenched off a glove and pulled back some of her soft hair, pressing his fingers against her neck. Relief filled him as he felt her pulse. It was a bit too slow for his liking though, and she was freezing cold. He needed to assess her quickly then get her into the warmth of his truck.
She was a little bit of a thing with curly dark hair flowing everywhere and dressed in jeans and a sweater. No jacket. No hat or scarf. Was it safe to move her? Hell, he didn’t have much choice. If he didn’t, the cold was going to kill her.
He gently pushed her back against the seat, wincing as he saw the big, egg-shaped lump on her forehead. At least she had her seatbelt on. No air bags, though.
Jesus if she had was his…well, she wasn’t so no point in thinking about that.
He slipped an arm under her legs and one around her back and slid her out of the seat and up into his arms. She let out a small cry and he tensed, waiting for her to awaken, but she just pushed her face against his chest and went limp once more.
Urgency filled him. He needed to get her to the cabin and warmed up.
He moved swiftly over to his truck and placed her on the bench seat. She looked like a little doll in his big truck. How old was she? He didn’t think the top of her head would even reach his shoulders.
Whoever was meant to be looking after her wasn’t doing a very good job, letting her go out in weather like this, wearing a thin sweater and in a crap car that couldn’t handle the conditions.
He did up her belt then shut the door, moving to the back of his truck to grab the blanket. He returned and tucked it around her. She was slumped over. Frowning, he undid the belt and lifted her over into the middle. Now she could lean against him and he could stop her from jolting around more and hurting herself.
He returned to her car to get her belongings. There was just a small, battered suitcase in the trunk and a handbag in the front passenger seat.
Who was she and what was she doing out here on her own?
2
She was so warm.
It felt so good she might have snuggled in and gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for the agony in her head. She raised her hand up, trying to push the heavy covers away. Just how many blankets did she have on her?
She touched her forehead and whimpered as pain radiated through her head.
“Uh-uh, don’t touch your injury, little one. You’ll make it hurt more.”
The voice was deep, a little rough. Like autumn leaves rustling together. She went still.
Who the hell was that?
“And you need to keep your hands under the covers. Stay warm. Your temperature got too low and we need to keep you covered up.” A large, warm hand grasped hers and gently tucked it back under the blankets.
Temperature? Covered up? Injury? Had the owner of that voice hurt her?
No, wait. She remembered driving. Snow. Downed tree. She’d been in a car accident. So where was she now? And who did that voice belong to? She didn’t want to open her eyes. Because she was pretty certain she hadn’t found her way to a hospital and that wasn’t a friendly male nurse.
But the voice sounded kind. When was the last time anyone cared about whether she was warm or not? Hell, she couldn’t remember.
So deciding to be brave, she forced her eyes open. Her vision was blurred and it took her a few blinks to bring her sight into focus. She was lying in bed, blankets piled around her. There was a bit of a musty smell, as though the place needed a good airing out. But the mattress was comfortable.
There was movement to her right and she turned her head carefully, not wanting to risk making her head pound any more than it was. She stilled as she saw the man sitting on an armchair next to the bed.
He was enormous. Thick, wide shoulders were covered in a checked shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows revealing large forearms. His hands were big and battered, not smooth like Boomer’s had been. These were the hands of a man who worked for a living.
Dark jeans covered his legs, although she couldn’t see below his knees. Finally, she forced herself to look up. He had a neatly trimmed dark beard. Funny, she’d never thought of beards as attractive, but it seemed to suit him. His wasn’t a handsome face. It was a bit too hard, his features a touch too pronounced to be considered handsome. But it was a face you wouldn’t soon forget.
Dark eyes studied her. At first, they appeared to be almost black, but she realized they were actually a deep shade of brown. His chestnut-colored hair was brushed back off his face.
She blushed as she realized she’d been staring at him. He hadn’t moved. He simply watched her back. She needed to say something. Maybe ask him who he was or how she’d come to be here. Was this his cabin? Did he live here alone? Was he some kind of mountain man? Yep, she had a hundred questions. She just didn’t know where to start. She opened her mouth.
“Hi.”
Wow. Well done, Ellie. In high school, she’d gotten into trouble repeatedly for not being able to keep quiet and all she had to say was hi.
His lips twitched. Great. She’d amused him. Woo hoo.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, putting three fingers up a few inches in front of her eyes.
“Ten,” she answered without thinking.
His eyes widened, alarm filling his face.
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’ve got a weird sense of humor sometimes. It was three.”
He frowned. “Your health isn’t a joke, little miss.”
A shiver of what felt suspiciously like desire went through her. She didn’t find that low, gravelly voice arousing, did she?
Nope. Not her. She w
as not looking for a man. Certainly not a dominant one. She wanted to be on her own. Make her own decisions. Her own plans. She did not want to be stuck dancing to someone else’s tune.
She cleared her throat. “Umm, sorry. I will try not to joke about my health in the future. Unless I’m dying then all bets are out the window.”
He scowled. All right. He really didn’t appreciate her attempt at humor.
“I’m Ellie.”
He inclined his head. Why did she feel like he already knew that?
“Hi Ellie, I’m Bear Macall.”
“Bear? Really? That’s your name? That’s cool, I like it,” she said quickly. She didn’t want to insult him. Was it his real name? His lips twitched. Okay, she was back to being funny.
“Your driver’s license says your name is Eleanor Margaret Bantler. You prefer Ellie, though?”
The only people who called her Eleanor were her parents. She didn’t want to be called Eleanor anymore. She wanted a fresh start.
“My name is Ellie,” she said firmly. Then she stiffened, a slight frisson of fear going through her. “How do you know what my driver’s license says? Did you go through my wallet?”
What about her money? Had he taken it? It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.
And you probably owe him that and more for rescuing you, Ellie. Shit.
“I did. I wanted to see if there was any information about your health in your bags that I might need to know to take care of you properly. You banged your head against the steering wheel when you crashed your car. Don’t know how long you were sitting there before I found you, but when I arrived your car was out of gas.” He gave her a look filled with disapproval. “And your skin was cold. Much longer and hypothermia would have gotten you.”
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