by Sable Sylvan
Meredith had come to the house with a mission: to tell off the landlord who had raised her grandmother’s rent in the lease for the coming year. She hadn’t expected the landlord to be over seven feet tall, taking up most of the tall door frame, and looking down at her with grouchy eyes that were still adjusting to what little sunlight was left shining down on the Pacific Northwest this December.
She also hadn’t expected him to be clad in only a pair of boxer shorts, which weren’t leaving much to the imagination, or for him to be absolutely jacked.
He looked down at the small human: curvy, yes, but short, a morsel compared to him. He snarled, “This better be important. Some people are trying to get some sleep around here.”
Meredith’s cheeks had turned as red as her hoodie. “I’m...” she started, staring at the man in front of her. “I’m looking for the owner of Joyce and Brothers Realty. Is he home?”
“You’re looking at him,” said the young man, who couldn’t have been old enough to run the company. “Brandon Joyce. You know, like...‘Joyce and Brothers’ Joyce?”
Meredith looked the man over: he had a barrel chest, firm biceps, and taut, muscular shoulders. It was obvious what this man was: a bear shifter. “Well, Mr. Joyce, I’m having an issue regarding your lease.” Meredith had forgotten about the speech she’d prepared in the car, reciting it over and over in her head, prepared to give some old man a piece of her mind.
“Can it wait until spring?” asked the man, scratching at the scraggly beard he’d developed over the last few weeks.
“No, Mr. Joyce, it cannot,” said Meredith, walking past him into the house, which looked more like the inside of a frat house than the headquarters of a rental business. “My name is Meredith, Meredith Baxter, and my grandmother, Janice Baxter, rents one of your houses.”
“Baxter, Baxter...your grandmother lives at ten Cunningham Drive, right?” asked the bear shifter as he followed Meredith in and took a seat in the living room in a large leather chair. Any other woman who came up to his door complaining about a lease during the middle of his hibernation would have been turned away, but Meredith...he could already tell Meredith was different. She had spunk and sass in spades, but her bouncy curves and curls had really caught his eye. “Is there a problem with the house? I assure you, your grandmother has been the perfect tenant.”
“Of course she’s been the perfect tenant, have you met the woman?” asked the fiery redhead angrily as she sat down on a dark leather couch, moving a dirty gym sock out of the way. “But apparently, her lease for next year states that she’ll need to pay almost twice what she’s currently paying per month.”
“Your grandmother’s lease had...flown under the radar,” explained Brandon. He could tell that the curvy woman was as disgusted with the house as she was angry about the lease from the way she frowned at the various mess piles around the room. “We reviewed the lease this year, and realized that the rent did not match the market rates for the area.”
“What happened to the man that used to run the leasing company? Gunther Joyce?” asked Meredith. “I want to speak to your boss.”
“Gunther Joyce was my grandfather,” said Brandon. “And he’s passed.”
“Well, I’m very sorry for your loss, but your grandfather and my grandmother had a deal,” said Meredith. “He rented the apartment to her for a fixed rate, and it’s unrealistic for you to raise the rent and expect her to be able to pay the difference. She’s an old woman. Where’s my eighty-five year old grandmother going to get the money for rent from?”
Brandon opened one of the file cabinets by one of the desks in the messy living room and flipped through the files until he found the one for 10 Cunningham Drive, Port Jameson, Oregon. He scanned each page twice. “Ms. Baxter...there’s nothing in here about their arrangement,” said Brandon. “And frankly, with no written proof about the arrangement, there’s no way for you to prove your grandmother has any claim for lower rent.”
“So what, my grandma’s going to have to move because your grandpa forgot to write something down?” asked Meredith angrily, pounding her fist into the arm of the couch, her fist sinking into the soft leather with ease and with a thud.
“It’s the middle of winter, and we’re bear shifters, sugar,” said Brandon, loving the way that the word sugar sent a shiver down Meredith’s spine and a blush into her cheeks that was redder than any blush the winter wind could draw out of them. “So if you want to strike a deal with this bear...well, I hope you brought some honey.”
About The Author
I’m Sable Sylvan, and the only thing I love more than reading hot paranormal romances is writing down my fantasies and sharing them with readers like you. My heroes are strong alpha male shifters who can be grizzly and gruff at times...but when it comes to their mates, they turn into absolute teddy bears. The curvy heroines in my stories are strong, sassy women, and that’s why the bear shifter men who love them will do anything for their fated mates.
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Goldilocks And The Three Bear Shifters
Little Red Riding Bears
Three Grizzlies Gruff
The Shifter Princes
Shifterella And The Billionaire Bear
Beauty And The Billionaire Bear
Sleeping BBW And The Billionaire Bear
Rapunzel And The Billionaire Bear
Seattle’s Billionaire Bears
Rumpled Bear Skin (coming soon)