Rebel Cowbear (Lone Star Cowbears Book 1)
Page 1
Rebel Cowbear
Paranormal Werebear Romance
Liv Brywood
Contents
Description
Excerpt
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
Chapter 16
Newsletter
Don’t miss the next book in the series
Zack’s Booty-Burnin’ Secret Barbecue Sauce Recipe
Don’t Miss the Grants’ Cousins in the Curvy Bear Ranch Collection
The Cowbear’s Secret Christmas Baby
About the Author
Description
If Kim doesn’t win the Bigger in Texas Barbecue Competition, the bank is going to take her house away. Her mom’s medical bills are piling up and she’s desperate for a way to pay them. She can’t let anyone get in her way, especially not the cocky, naughty cowboy who thinks he can seduce her with his dirty mouth. He’s exactly the kind of distraction that will cost her everything.
Zack Grant loves his chicken wings spicy and his women scorching hot. If he can claw his way through the competition, he’ll win enough money to buy his dream home. But his sexy competitor is driving his bear wild. After one whiff of her alluring scent, his bear wants to claim her as their fated mate. But he needs to keep his hands off of his delectable opponent if he has any hope of winning the prize.
Excerpt
Consumed by his kisses, Kim threaded her fingers through his tousled hair. If the hay bales hadn’t been holding her up, she would have melted into the ground. As he pressed against her, warmth flooded her core. He tasted of beer and recklessness and the longer he kissed her, the more she wanted to surrender to his torrid heat.
As his tongue teased between her lips, she swirled hers in response. His demanding tempo dragged her further into an abyss of pleasure. The thick length of him poked against her thigh, giving her a hint of what he’d been hiding underneath those snug Wranglers.
His teeth grazed her lips as he pulled back. Her lips were tingling and swollen, but she wanted more. She tried to draw him closer, but he hovered right above her, close enough to feel, but just out of reach.
“We should stop,” he whispered.
“Why?” Her stomach plummeted as he moved to sit next to her.
“I don’t want us to do something we’ll regret later.”
“I won’t regret it.”
She tugged him back down. He reclaimed her mouth with a ferocious kiss, animalistic and wild. Wet and needy, she arched against him before wrapping one leg around his thigh. He ground against her before pushing away. This time he scrambled off of the hay bales.
She sat up and brushed a trembling hand across her swollen lips. She’d never been kissed so thoroughly in her life.
“You’re making it hard for me to be a good guy,” he said in a tone laced with carnal hunger.
“Then don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”
Rebel Cowbear
Paranormal Werebear Romance
Copyright© 2016 Liv Brywood
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 permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Kim grabbed a plain brown paper bag from the cupboard and whipped it open. After pouring a quarter cup of popcorn kernels into it, she closed the bag and folded it over four times. She set it in the microwave then set the clock to two minutes. As she waited, she leaned a hip against the island in the center of the kitchen.
Her mom sat on the couch in the living room. After enduring a series of chemo treatments, she spent most of her days watching cooking shows on television. Kim’s heart ached every time she looked at the thin wisps of hair on her mom’s head. Although her mom had been through hell over the last few months, she hadn’t lost her spunk.
“Why isn’t he naked?” her mom asked.
“He doesn’t cook naked.”
“Well, that’s no fun. I thought he’d be taking his shirt off or something.”
Her mom turned back to stare at the chef. As he tossed a sizzling pasta dish in a cast-iron skillet, her mom clucked her tongue.
“False advertising if you ask me,” she said.
“He’s known as the Naked Cook because he only uses natural ingredients in his recipes,” Kim said.
“Well I think this show would be much better if he was naked.”
Kim shook her head as she grabbed the bag from the microwave. She dumped the fluffy popcorn into a large bowl. As she added a dash of salt, she cringed. Before her mom’s cancer diagnosis, they’d loaded up their favorite snack with butter and tons of salt. Not anymore. If she had any hope of beating the disease, she had to eat healthy food.
“Kosher salt, no butter.” She handed the bowl of freshly made popcorn to her mom.
“Not even a few drops?”
“You heard what the doctor said. I shouldn’t even be giving you salt.”
“If chemo won’t kill me and cancer won’t kill me, then a little butter won’t kill me either.”
Kim sighed and sat next to her on the well-worn couch. Her mom deserved a treat, but she wasn’t going to add butter no matter how much she pleaded.
“It’d be hard for him to cook naked,” Kim said in an attempt to change the subject. “Can you imagine the possible disasters?”
“Oh, I can imagine all right.”
“Mom!”
“What? I’m just admiring his hidden talents.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth, then mumbled, “Your favorite show’s coming on next.”
The opening sequence of Sebastian Barclay’s cooking show blared through the living room. He took traditionally unhealthy dishes and created healthy alternatives. After experimenting with his recipes, Kim had fallen in love with his cooking style. Who knew food could taste so amazing, and yet still be good for you?
Witnessing the aftermath of her mother’s chemo treatments had given her a new mission in life. Although Kim couldn’t control her mom’s reaction to the noxious chemicals they pumped into her system, she could keep her away from unhealthy food. She’d do whatever it took to help her mom fight thyroid cancer. If it meant cooking quinoa from scratch, she’d do it. If nothing else, she could at least control what was going into her mom’s body, even if she couldn’t control what was going on inside her body.
“What time do you have to be at work?” her mom asked.
“Not until 11 a.m. We’re catering an afternoon wedding, but it’s just hors d’oeuvres, not a full dinner. If I get home before seven, I want to try out a new grilled fish recipe.”
“Ugh.” Her mom crinkled her nose. “Fish again? We just had that night before last.”
“Right, but that was lemon garlic tilapia. Tonight I want to try Chinese five-spice salmon.”
“It’s still fish,” her mom grumbled. “You don’t make that stuff at work, do you?”
“No. My boss insists on decadent but very unhealthy menus. But
I can’t complain too much. At least I don’t have to work really long hours. I should have plenty of time to take you on a new culinary adventure tonight.”
“I can’t wait,” her mom said with a sigh.
Kim chuckled. She couldn’t wait to experiment with the salmon recipe. Each time she attempted to cook something new, she couldn’t help but think about her dad. Before he’d passed away, he’d taught her to have pride in her work. She loved tinkering with recipes until she got them just right. If a dish didn’t meet her standards, she tossed it. She’d never serve subpar food.
For a moment, Kim couldn’t breathe. She’d already lost one parent, she didn’t know if she could survive losing another. She chewed on the edge of her lip. After her mom’s next treatment, Dr. Hartfield was going to order another scan. If it came back clear, her mom would be cancer-free, so Kim had to stay positive. Losing another parent wasn’t an option.
“Today, we’re touring the countryside of Florence, where some of the most delightful Italian dishes can be found.” Sebastian Barclay’s jovial voice brought her back to the present.
Aerial shots of luscious green vineyards and rolling hillsides flashed across the screen. Sebastian walked past small cottages and buildings with red rooftops.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” her mom asked. “I always wanted to visit Italy.” She reached across the coffee table and grabbed a huge hardcover book. “A year after your father and I married, he brought this home. It’s filled with the most amazing pictures. We used to spend hours poring through the pages. He’d even created an itinerary of all the things we’d do when we got there: wine tasting, church tours, a romantic ride on a gondola. We had so many plans.”
“You never told me that,” Kim said as she watched her mother’s eyes light up. “Why didn’t you ever go?”
“Life. We kept putting it off for another time… until there wasn’t another time.”
“Mom—”
“We were supposed to experience it together. That would have been something.”
Kim’s chest knotted up. Sometimes her mother’s voice would quiver as if she were on the verge of tears, and then a moment later she’d be back to joking around. She’d always put on a brave face, especially during the painful aftermath of chemo treatments. She’d be tired and weak but she’d never complain.
“Look,” her mom pointed at the screen. “He’s coming here.”
“Don’t forget to visit me next week in East Texas for the Bigger in Texas Barbecue Competition,” Sebastian said. “I’ll be joining two famous local barbecue chefs to judge the contest. One lucky person will win $100,000. The winner will also walk away with a contract for their own cooking show on Chef’s Network. So if you’d like to see yourself here, you won’t want to miss this contest.”
“Kim, you have to go!”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is your chance,” her mom said. “You’ve been dreaming about creating a healthy barbecue recipe cookbook for months. I know you can do it because your grilled Tuscan chicken recipe is phenomenal. I never thought I’d like artichoke hearts on chicken, but you really nailed it. It’s the best damn health food I’ve ever eaten. You have to enter that contest.”
“No way,” Kim said. “I’m not good enough to compete. Besides, I can’t leave you.”
“Honey, I’ll be fine for a few days, especially if it means my girl will come back with her own show. And you are good enough. You’ve been cooking since you could reach the counter. He didn’t say that it had to be healthy food. It just has to be barbecue. And don’t tell me you don’t know how to do that. Your daddy would turn over in his grave if you denied it. This is an opportunity you can’t pass up.”
“I don’t know,” Kim said.
“Then think about the money. One hundred thousand dollars will go a long way toward helping us get out of debt.”
She had a point. The medical bills weren’t getting any smaller. If anything, the treatments were more expensive every time. If by some miracle she did win, she could pay off the existing bills and she’d have some money left over in case her mom needed additional treatments. It would be a huge relief not to have those damn bills hanging over her head.
As if that wasn’t enough of an incentive, she could wind up with her own cooking show. It would be the perfect platform to show people that healthy didn’t have to be bland and boring. Each week, viewers would tune in to watch her show. She’d have a chance to really impact people’s lives. Now that would be a dream come true.
“If your father were here, he’d want you to do it,” her mom said. “I know he would.”
“He’d want me to take care of you,” Kim said.
“Honey, you’ve taken good care of me, and I love you for it. But eventually you have to start doing things for yourself.”
“I do some things for myself.”
“When was the last time you went on a date or had a night out with the girls?” her mom asked.
Kim frowned. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out on a date. She’d had one serious boyfriend in college, but eight months into their blissful relationship, she discovered that she wasn’t his only girlfriend. Jerk.
“I haven’t found anyone worth dating and I have plenty of friends,” she said defensively.
“When was the last time you saw any of them?”
“I’m busy,” Kim said. “Besides, you’re my best friend and I need to take care of you. That’s my top priority. Everything else can wait.”
“You need to have more fun,” her mom declared. “You should find a nice young man to date.”
“I don’t need to go on dates to have fun. I have no interest in hearing guys drone on about nonsense only to have them try to sleep with me the first chance they get.”
“What about hanging out with your friends?”
“They know that I’m busy,” Kim said.
“Well,” her mom huffed. “If you won’t go out and have fun with them, then the least you can do is enter the contest. Do it for me. It’s my dying wish.”
Kim cringed. “I wish you wouldn’t use that word.”
“What word?” her mom asked with mock innocence.
“Dying.”
“We’re all going to do it.”
“You’re so morbid sometimes,” Kim said. “Besides, I thought the macaroni and cheese casserole I made two weeks ago was your final wish. That thing had enough cheese and butter to clog up a pro athlete’s arteries.”
“That was my food wish. This is my life wish.”
“Now you’re just making stuff up,” Kim huffed.
“Call it a dying woman’s prerogative.” Her mom grinned. “I don’t think your reluctance has anything to do with me anyway. You’re afraid that you’ll lose.”
“Sebastian Barclay is running the contest,” Kim said. “He’s my idol. What if he hates one of my dishes?”
“What if you go there and blow his mind with your delicious healthy cooking? You can ‘what if’ yourself to death all you want, but you’ll never know until you try.”
As much as she hated to admit it, her mom was right. She’d been wallowing in “what ifs” for months. Could she let go of her fear long enough to pursue the chance of a lifetime?
“You really think I can do it?” Kim asked.
“I know you can.”
Kim pushed her fluttering nerves aside. She gathered up her courage and got up from the couch.
“Where are you going?” her mom asked.
“To the kitchen. If I’m going to win, my recipes need to be perfect.”
“That’s my girl.” Her mom grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Any chance I can get some butter for this?”
“Not even a little one,” Kim said in a playfully serious tone.
Her mother sighed. “You can’t blame me for trying.”
* * *
Zack held his hand up to block the harsh afternoon sun. Even though he stood beneath the patio awning behind his h
ouse, radiant heat burned through his Stetson to bake his scalp. As he squinted at the open grill, sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Several hamburgers and thick, juicy steaks sizzled on the grill. His mouth watered. A little discomfort would be worth it once the food was ready. Damn, it looked good.
As he poked the edge of one steak, his brother Remington strolled in from the horse paddock. When he reached the patio, he wrinkled his nose.
“You know that stuff will kill you, right?” Remy asked.
“You’ve been reading Diesel’s medical journals again, haven’t you?” Zack asked in a joking tone.
Remy eyed the food with distaste before heading over to one of the picnic tables. He poured a large glass of red wine before returning to stand next to Zack.
“I can already feel my arteries clogging,” Remy said.
His brother wasn’t a fan of red meat—especially rare steak—but Zack wouldn’t hold it against him. Zack took the good-natured ribbing in stride even though his brother was obviously wrong.
“It’s not dynamite.” Zack turned back toward the grill while trying to suppress a snicker. “Although… I know a few people who’d kill for the recipe to my secret rub.”
“Keep laughing while you can,” Remy said. “All that grease will harden your arteries and one day you’re going to drop dead from a heart attack.”
“At least my bear and I will die happy,” Zack said.
He flipped the burgers over, then slathered his signature sauce across the meat. Sweet as molasses and hotter than an inferno, this blend was the result of years of experimentation. He doused the fresh grill-marks on the burgers before brushing extra butter across the almost-rare steaks. He took an exaggerated whiff of the aroma and fanned it toward his younger brother. Remy scrunched up his nose in disgust.