Buck Me... For New Year's: BBW Paranormal Were-reindeer Shapeshifter Holiday Romance (Frost Brothers' Brides)

by Anya Nowlan

  BUCK ME… FOR NEW YEAR’S

  FROST BROTHERS’ BRIDES

  BY

  ANYA NOWLAN

  A LITTLE TASTE…

  “No, none of that, thankfully. But the mind games were certainly worth it, Mr. Frost. After all, it was you who came to me, not the other way around,” Blair said, cozying up in his jacket.

  It looked good on her. He imagined his dress shirt would look even better on her the next morning. But he was getting ahead of himself. As much as he wanted that body naked and under his fingertips as soon as he could, he was intrigued by this seemingly coy, but entirely self-aware and confident woman.

  Running a thumb along his lower lip, he nodded thoughtfully.

  “You’re right. Is that what you were after? Me chasing you?” he asked, grinning like the idea sat with him very well.

  “A little chase has never hurt anyone,” she said with a shrug, rolling her eyes upward a little in a fake show of shyness.

  Copyright © 2015 Anya Nowlan

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Buck Me… For New Year’s

  Frost Brothers’ Brides

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use. This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Anya Nowlan. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  Cover © Jack of Covers

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  BUCK ME… FOR NEW YEAR’S

  A LITTLE TASTE…

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  BEAR MY BABY EXCERPT

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Blair

  “Blair Welsh, if you don’t get out of that bathroom right this instant, I’m going to send Deacon in after you,” Aubrey yelled, banging her fist on the door.

  That really did nothing to convince or coax Blair out of the bathroom, though. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, because she was both too old for that and her best friend in the world really deserved better treatment. She simply stared at her reflection in the mirror for the umpteenth time. She still looked pretty much the same.

  She was on the taller side, and her long brunette curls tumbling down her shoulders could have been considered elegant had she not over-teased them with the curling iron. And her bright blue-and-green dotted eyes might have been called even seductive had she—in her own opinion—not gone completely overboard with the liquid liner.

  Who can do a cat’s eye these days anyway? Obviously not you, Blair, she chided herself, crinkling her nose at the catastrophe that was her makeup.

  Her dress was a little crooked. The long, silver gown sweeping around her ankles showed off her ample cleavage, and the high heels she was meant to wear made her look like a construction crane seconds before tumbling off a pier. All in all, she was totally unimpressed, and she was sure Aubrey would be too. It would be the fitting end to this year—disappointment through and through. Poetic, really.

  “Blair? Are you alive in there?” Aubrey Jameson – apologies – North called, Blair’s closest and best friend despite the fact that Blair lived in LA and Aubrey had left her for the frigid, picturesque and still-cold-as-balls Idaho.

  “I am,” Blair noted dully, pushing herself away from the big stone bathroom countertop.

  “Then let me in!” Aubrey said, frustration evident in her voice.

  Giving herself one more quick look, practically sneering at her uncooperative reflection, Blair unlocked the guest bathroom door and pulled it open. Aubrey stood there and her face lit up immediately; a wide, happy grin making her slight dimples show. Her eyes damn near shimmered when she saw Blair, and Blair couldn’t keep hold of her well-tuned morose mood when Aubrey looked at her like that.

  “You look gorgeous!” Aubrey exclaimed, clapping her hands together once before signaling Blair to spin. “Come on, twirl!” she instructed.

  Despite having no enthusiasm to do so, Blair had to do as she was told, and she turned around with all the grace and poise of a grouchy bear. Speaking of which, Deacon was walking past the open guest room door right in that instant, stopping dead in his tracks and letting out a long whistle.

  “Deacon!” Blair laughed, feeling an honest-to-goodness blush coming to her cheeks.

  “Hell, Shifter Grove doesn’t know what it’s been missing! You’re going to slay them tomorrow at the ball,” he said, flashing her a bold grin. “Just look out, we’ll have you married off before the evening’s through and you won’t know what hit you!”

  “You’re being silly,” Blair retorted, not one of her best come-backs, as Aubrey fussed with her hair and made clucking sounds at this or that apparently needing fixing.

  In Blair’s honest opinion, she looked like the Walmart version of one of Cinderella’s evil stepsisters, but Deacon’s reaction to her chosen look was definitely encouraging! So maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought she was?

  What do you care? You’ll never see these people again anyway! They won’t even remember who you were. And it’s a masquerade ball, after all... you can hide in plain sight.

  “Me and every other man in this demographically slanted shifter town,” Deacon scoffed, shrugging his shoulders good-naturedly. “I’m going to go see about the horses now. It’s like old Saint Nick decided to bring us all an extra helping of snow this year instead of coal. I don’t mind, but I think some of the mares are about to lead a mutiny.”

  Deacon gave Blair a lazy salute and he and Aubrey exchanged a quick air-kiss before Aubrey returned to her flitting about with Blair, and Deacon disappeared down the hallway, his heavy footsteps echoing after him. Blair couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. Not of Deacon, obviously—she was ecstatic that her best friend had managed to get together with the one man she’d always loved! And now that they had a beautiful baby boy of their own, Diego North, Blair was the proudest “auntie” anyone had ever known.

  But it did sting a little to see how happy they were together, knowing that she couldn’t have the same. For such a long time, she thought it was only a step away. Her mood soured immediately, thinking about Collin, her painstakingly ignored and totally-forgotten-about ex, who had dumped her five days before Christmas. They’d been together for five years, which made it worse.

  He was a possessive, jealous man and it ate Blair up knowing how much she had missed because she’d kept trying to appease him. She hadn’t even come to Aubrey’s wedding, for one thing, even though their mutual close friend Delia had promised to take care of all of the arrangements and get Blair to Idaho and back safe and sound. But Collin had said no, so reluctantly, Blair had followed suit.

  None of that anymore, she reminded herself, standing up a bit straighter as Aubrey fixed a seam on her sid
e. From now on, you’re supposed to be brave, remember? Go for anything! Take life by the horns! All those Hallmark moments that you never got to have with Collin—there for the taking!

  Okay, this time, she couldn’t keep herself from rolling her eyes.

  “What?” Aubrey asked, thumbing the snowflake pendant that was around her neck. “Something wrong? Is it too tight? I know we’re not exactly the same size, but I think the dress looks gorgeous on you,” Aubrey said, worry in her voice as Blair watched her give her another ponderous look.

  “No, honey, it’s fine. I’m just… well, you know what I am,” Blair said with a sigh, scooping the skirt of the dress up so she could unbuckle her shoes and step out of them.

  When her bare feet hit the plush carpet, she let out a sigh of relief. Bundling the shoes in one hand, she picked out the bobby pins holding up her hair and let it tumble down across her back and shoulders, still holding plenty of bounce.

  “Can you unzip me?” she asked, turning her back to Aubrey, who looked rather unconvinced that everything was okay.

  “I can, but only if you promise to put it on tomorrow night for the ball,” Aubrey said, her hands already paused over the zipper.

  “Apparently it’s not like I can get out of it,” Blair snorted, pulling her hair off her back.

  “Not unless you’ve learned the secrets of flight while I’ve been in Idaho,” Aubrey chuckled, undoing the zipper.

  Forgetting about her bashfulness—they’d been on the swim team together in college; it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other get dressed—Blair stepped out of the dress, tossing it on her messy bed along with the shoes. At the very moment she was reaching for her comfy T-shirt and gray sweatpants with pink stripes, the wind beat against the glass, rattling the windows with fearsome strength.

  Both of them jumped a little and then laughed, Blair shaking her head as she pulled the shirt on. The snowstorm was absolutely massive. It had picked up right after Blair had gotten to Shifter Grove and only let up for a few hours on Christmas Day, but the one guy who handled flights in and out of the area hadn’t been flying then because it wasn’t safe enough in the mountains. With no way to get through the snowed-in mountain roads, Blair was stuck in Idaho, exchanging calls with her parents and vowing that she’d be home for New Year’s Eve to watch the fireworks show with her folks, like she always did.

  Like I always did with my would-be husband, she reminded herself, swiftly killing the inkling of a good mood she’d had.

  “I can’t believe I’m still here! I was supposed to be home for the day after Christmas,” Blair said with a sigh, though she was very obviously smiling. “My parents will kill me.”

  “Right. Because you don’t want to miss that white LA Christmas, right?” Aubrey teased, picking up the dress and hanging it on a rack.

  “You know how the Welsh family is. We’re very stuck on our traditions,” Blair said, tongue in cheek.

  “I think you’ll get a pass this one time.”

  Aubrey’s hand looped around Blair’s arm and Blair was yanked out of her bedroom and down along the corridor until they reached the big living room/kitchen of the North household. Diego was sleeping in his playpen, curled up like the little bear cub he was, his hair an icy kind of blond and completely different from both his parents.

  Aubrey went to put on some tea as Blair stopped at the crib, looking at the angelic little boy sleeping blissfully. He was adorable, at least when he was sleeping. Now at three years old, he was a little hellion when he was awake, or so his parents claimed. But it was winter and bears, in general, tended to not be too active then and that went double for baby polar bear cubs. Blair couldn’t help but smile at that.

  “Your life is so odd,” she said finally, straightening up and walking to the kitchen island and grabbing a seat, watching Aubrey starting to prepare dinner as soon as she was done with the tea.

  A steaming mug of Earl Grey landed in front of Blair’s nose and a cutting board with some carrots and cucumbers followed suit.

  “Make yourself useful and then regale me with the tales of my odd life,” Aubrey said with a flourish, whirling around her kitchen like the blizzard outside.

  “Well, you’re married now to this great, hunky, absolutely adorable man. And you have a kid who sleeps all day when it’s cold outside—which is sort of amazing even if he looks nothing like you two—and you’re living in Idaho instead of LA. How did all of that happen?”

  “Fate!” Aubrey answered simply, grinning from ear to ear as she turned around to chop up some veal for the stew, sharing a look with Blair. “And he does look like us. It’s just a polar bear thing. They all start out with blond hair and blue eyes and then pick up their features along the way. If you think that’s odd, you should see them when they’re born. I swear to God, for a few hours after the birth, he had a black nose.”

  “Planning on the next one already?” Blair asked, ignoring the tinge of pain that traveled through her at that thought.

  By now, she thought she’d be married as well and at least have one little one on the way. Her family was big—huge even. She was the middle daughter of seven kids, four girls and three boys, and her youngest sister had just gotten married. Now it was only Blair left out of the girls who had “failed to tie the knot,” and as much as she liked to pretend that it didn’t matter and she wasn’t upset by it, she could only lie to herself for so long. And apparently even less to Aubrey, who still knew her far too well.

  “Yes, I am. We wanted to give Diego a bit of time to be the only one. Apparently that’s good for the Alpha ego, whatever that means. But I’m hoping for a girl next,” Aubrey said with a happy smile. “And I fully expect you to have one of your own soon too, you know. We’ll hook you up tomorrow, just you wait and see.”

  “I didn’t come here to look for a man,” Blair said, tossing Aubrey a glowering look.

  “Why not? We have some of the hottest shifters in the country!” Aubrey laughed. “And I’m not saying you need to get hitched right away. Live a little! You were with that douchebag for five years and I swear, I’ve seen you smile more now than I did during those years. I had Delia keep count when I left and the scores are in—you were miserable. If anything, he did you a favor by showing you what a bastard he was,” Aubrey said, her expression twisting into a frown in earnest now.

  Blair chopped the carrots dutifully, but in her head, she was far, far away. Aubrey wasn’t wrong, she knew that. She had been miserable and there was no denying it. But could she simply go out and have a fling now, so soon? Would it make anything better or make it worse? Then again…

  You’ll never have to see these people again… maybe you can have a little New Year’s fairy tale of your own before going back to LA?

  Now that was something to consider.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dash

  The duffel bag hit the floor with a sound that was more crash than anything else. Dash stomped through the hallway, flicking lights on left and right, his sole purpose seeming to be discovering the shortest route to the kitchen and the Scotch.

  Lips pressed into a tight line, the tall, six foot five reindeer buck practically ran through the large cabin, looking more like a charging linebacker than a dutiful airline pilot finally on break.

  If Blitz drank all of it, I swear to Uncle Nick, I’m going to wring his neck, he thought darkly, throwing open the first cabinet where he could expect to find a glass, and then continuing down the line with the tumbler in hand.

  “Would you get me one too?” Vix called from somewhere in the big entrance hallway, his voice low and tired, but far more upbeat than Dash’s current state of being.

  “Get your own, you bum. It was enough that I had to do Milwaukee and then Rio for you, I’m not going to be at your beck and call for every damn thing,” Dash growled back, rummaging through the extensive, and mostly empty bar of the Frost family cabin near Shifter Grove, Idaho.

  “Sure, like I didn’t do Moscow last year when yo
u got ‘stuck’ in Oslo,” Vix snorted, trotting into the big open-space living room, his face lit with a grin.

  Dash paused to glare at his younger brother, but Vix shrugged it off like it wasn’t anything and came around the kitchen counter to take a glass of his own. Neither one of them needed ice; a stiff drink alone would be enough. After what was now closer to five days of hard work, covering the globe and carrying packages to and fro, Dash had decided that he deserved, nay, needed some booze in his body to live through the next few days.

  He coaxed out a bottle of eighteen-year-old Laphroaig whiskey and poured himself several fingers worth before reluctantly filling Vix’s glass as well. Picking the glass up, they clinked them together wordlessly and threw them back, Dash essentially swallowing his whole.

  It burned as it went down, just the way he liked it. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t right unless it hurt a little and that was a motto so many of the Frost brothers shared. In a household with nine men roughly the same age and working in the same grueling, demanding field, tempers were known to rise. Thankfully though, they’d been doing this for long enough to mostly get away with bitching, moaning, and bickering instead of swinging fists.

  Though that year when Dan and Don had gone at one another because they couldn’t fairly split up who’d have to do Australia was still one of Dash’s fondest Christmas memories. There was nothing quite like seeing two grown-ass bucks try to make the other admit he was wrong. Especially if they were brothers.

  It had been one of the many, many times that Dash had been thankful that he’d been fortunate enough to be born without a twin.

  “To another Christmas saved!” Vix announced, filling Dash’s glass again.

  Dash humphed something back that could have been an agreement of the notion or telling Vix to go buck himself, but neither option really seemed to faze the chronically joyous younger Frost. It was like he still had some Christmas spirit left in him or something. How positively grueling to be around.