Bearly Deniable (UnBearable Romance Series Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: Sylvia

  Chapter Two: Sylvia

  Chapter Three: Ryan

  Chapter Four: Sylvia

  Chapter Five: Ryan

  Chapter Six: Sylvia

  Chapter Seven: Ryan

  Chapter Eight: Sylvia

  Chapter Nine: Ryan

  Chapter Ten: Sylvia

  Chapter Eleven: Sylvia

  Chapter Twelve: Ryan

  Chapter Thirteen: Sylvia

  Chapter Fourteen: Sylvia

  Chapter Fifteen: Ryan

  Chapter Sixteen: Sylvia

  Chapter Seventeen: Sylvia

  About Next Book In UnBearable Romance Series

  Bearly Deniable

  UnBearable Romance Series Book 1

  By:

  Amelia Wilson

  Table of Contents:

  Invitation From The Author

  Chapter One: Sylvia

  Chapter Two: Sylvia

  Chapter Three: Ryan

  Chapter Four: Sylvia

  Chapter Five: Ryan

  Chapter Six: Sylvia

  Chapter Seven: Ryan

  Chapter Eight: Sylvia

  Chapter Nine: Ryan

  Chapter Ten: Sylvia

  Chapter Eleven: Sylvia

  Chapter Twelve: Ryan

  Chapter Thirteen: Sylvia

  Chapter Fourteen: Sylvia

  Chapter Fifteen: Ryan

  Chapter Sixteen: Sylvia

  Chapter Seventeen: Sylvia

  About Next Book In UnBearable Romance Series

  Note From The Author

  Copyright © 2017 by Amelia Wilson

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Invitation From The Author

  I am currently recruiting readers for my review team.

  If you would like to participate by volunteering to read advance copies of my latest books, and leaving an honest review on Amazon, please sign up for my email list here: JOIN NOW! I contact subscribers through email when each book is ready for review. You will be under no obligation, and can accept of decline on a book by book basis.

  ∞ Amelia ∞

  Chapter One: Sylvia

  “Mom, I told you I’d call you when I got off the plane, and I’m off the plane. We didn’t crash, or have a catastrophic engine failure, or anything like that. Please relax.”

  Holding my cell phone between my shoulder and my ear, I grumbled into the receiver and tried to stave off wincing. My mom was so loud the other people waiting for their baggage could probably hear her. Along the line, a rough, heavy sigh flowed, and I pursed my lips together.

  “Don’t you tell me to relax, Sylvia. That flight was seven hours long! How was I supposed to know nothing bad happened to you?”

  I nearly rolled my eyes at the argument, but my mother made a good point. Cell phone use was prohibited on flights so she wouldn’t know what happened to me for hours. Letting out air through my nose, my gaze narrowed on my rather large suitcase as it traveled on the belt.

  “Well, I’m perfectly fine. No need to worry anymore since I won’t be taking another flight back until July. I do have to go, though. I should pick up Aunt Rachel’s Jeep before it gets too many tickets. I’ll call you tomorrow after I talk to the realtor, okay?”

  Snatching my luggage from the belt, I carefully pulled up the handle and began to make my way out of the small airport. My cell phone speaker crackled, and a slither of irritation wiggled into my heart.

  I was 22 years old and had my life on track; there was no reason for my mother to fear so much.

  “Fine, but you better call me, Sylvia. And don’t forget to text me pictures of the house when you get there. Maybe I’ll keep it and use it for vacations.”

  At that notion, I did roll my eyes, and a small smile upturned my lips. My mother had such grand ideas and whimsical dreams. Everyone knew she’d never leave Maine, though.

  “Yeah, okay. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mom.”

  Hanging up before my mom could drag on the conversation, I heaved a big, loud sigh. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I ran my free hand through my hair. Energy zinged through my veins to replace the annoyance I felt. Sleeping on the plane had been a good idea. Even with everything circling in my head I’d at least gotten a few hours of rest.

  Anchorage, Alaska was a beautiful place, and the first thing that hit me was the crisp, clean air. Despite the cars and trucks that mobbed the street, the smell was much fresher than anything I’d experienced before. My chest expanded as my lungs took in as much as they could, and I held my breath for a moment.

  My feet carried me towards a sprawling parking lot, but even for its size it was smaller than ones in the Lower 48. Dipping into my purse, my fingers easily found the extra set of keys I’d received at my great aunt’s funeral. Why she’d gifted me this cottage and a rickety, old Jeep was beyond my comprehension.

  Maybe it’s because her grandkids are spoiled pricks that don’t know how to work a broom.

  The thought made me frown, and I glanced around the lot with narrowed eyes. My Aunt Rachel was filthy rich; the key word there being ‘was.’ When she died, she left all her money to her nine grandchildren to divvy up amongst themselves. None of my cousins wanted a dusty, old cottage in the middle of nowhere, so no one contested me.

  Talk about dodging a bullet.

  “Where is this thing…?” My question was hollow, and my brows came together over my sharp eyes. I didn’t even have a picture of this car, just a license plate number, make, and model. “It’s a red Jeep… how many can there be…?”

  After walking up to several Jeeps to stare blankly at the license plate, I finally found the one I was looking for. Surprise blanketed my expression, and I let go of my suitcase to stand in the middle of the driving lane dumbly. This shiny, auburn colored four door looked brand new; it was nothing like the topless, beat up hunk of junk I first expected. The car sparkled despite the light coating of dust it wore, and the wheels looked like they’d driven less than a hundred miles.

  Clicking the ‘Unlock’ button on the key’s remote starter, I licked my lips as my heart hammered in my chest. There’s no way this car is less than 50 grand… and it’s in my name.

  “Thank you, Auntie Rachel.” I stepped up against the trunk, mumbling to myself as my spirits about this trip took a sharp and sudden upturn. Peering over lightly dyed leather seats, I could smell that new car scent wafting up into my brain. There wasn’t a speck of dust inside the trunk, and even the various compartments were free of grime on their edges.

  Carefully sticking the key in the ignition, I let it hang there to wiggle my bottom comfortably down into my seat. I’d never even had the luxury of sitting in a car with a dash navigator, let alone one that was built in. The panel was at least seven inches wide, and excitement nibbled at the back of my throat. Exploring this car was going to be fun.

  My fingers wrapped comfortably around the leather steering wheel, and a small sigh floated up from my lungs. The engine rumbled to life, and I sunk a little into my seat before carefully backing out inch by inch.

  “Oh wow - it connects to my phone.” Sitting at a stop sign in the middle of nowhere, I grumbled my surprise as I tapped the touch screen console. One of my music lists popped up, and my lips stretched into a
wide smile. Scrolling down, it wasn’t hard to find a nice, upbeat song to match my mood.

  My head bopped side to side, front to back, to the beat of the music as I drove. The road was getting bumpier with each mile, and a genuine apprehension kept me from going over 30 miles an hour.

  At this rate, I won’t get there until nightfall.

  Glancing at the GPS, I bit down on my bottom lip at the distance I still had to go. My aunt’s cottage was in some tiny town of four thousand that no one had ever heard of. Aunt Rachel came up here almost every other summer for nearly 40 years, even when her kids and grandkids refused. The property included a lake, and I’d heard on more than one occasion that it was the sole reason she’d lived to 108 years old.

  Chapter Two: Sylvia

  As I drove, thoughts of my great aunt swarmed my mind, memories wiggling behind my eyes. She was the kind of woman that drank at least one glass of wine at family functions. Nothing stopped her from telling people what she thought, and I loved that about her. I didn’t see her more often than a few times a year, but she always made me laugh for some convoluted reason.

  More than a few times Aunt Rachel had to fight not to go into an old folk’s home. Remembering the last incident always brought a scowl to my lips, and now was no different. She brought her grandchildren to court over it and didn’t even get a lawyer. Her defense was all her, and in the end, she won. Needless to say, her grandkids were not happy.

  Although I don’t know why anyone would put their grandma in a place like that.

  “And now, here I am. In Alaska with a brand-new car and a cottage that very well might’ve been Auntie Rachel’s most prized possession.” There were plenty of people my Aunt could support with all her money, but I wasn’t one of them. I had a perfectly well-off job; Hell, I was the only one of my cousins that had employment enough to live off comfortably.

  But Kyle doesn’t count because your first job is never the one you want, and working at McDonalds is basically just to get your foot in the door.

  “Listen to me - I even grumble like her now.” My scowl lessened at my realization, and I sighed as the road took a deep bend. Ever since Auntie Rachel’s death nearly five months ago, I found myself thinking of our similarities more and more. She was the person I aspired to be in any and all aspects of my life.

  It was really a shame I couldn’t say the same for my cousins - her grandchildren. To them she was just a giant, walking, scolding dollar sign, and now that she was gone they had free reign. It was disgusting to me that someone related to me would think a person could only have monetary worth.

  “I hate that… why couldn’t you just not give them anything…?” Even as I proposed the question to an empty car, the answer instantly popped into my mind. My aunt hadn’t been the kind of woman to say ‘no’ or create hardships based on her personal views. Her grandkids never had to work right out of high school like Kyle and I. No matter what my aunts and uncles did, my cousins never took responsibility seriously.

  That was why Auntie Rachel gave them her wealth; it was enough to keep them up without having to work several times over if they spent it right.

  But of course, they won’t. In a few years, a decade at most, it’ll be gone, and they’ll all be broke. That was probably Auntie Rachel’s plan - to give them the means but not be responsible for their downfall.

  The entire ride to this tiny town by the name of Marble, which wasn’t even on a generalized map, was clouded. I didn’t bother to stop from getting sucked into my thoughts. My awareness only stretched far enough to not miss a turn, and even that wasn’t hard. There was only one road that didn’t branch off.

  By the time my Jeep came crawling to a stop, my high beams were the only source of light. I pulled up the emergency break to sink into my seat. The GPS pinged, and a mechanical voice told me I would reach my destination in three miles. Peering through the windshield, all I could see were trees and shadows. Leaves rustled in the light summer breeze, but I couldn’t hear it over the soft thrum of music flowing through the car speakers.

  “8:22p.m. … The sun sets early right now.” It wasn’t cold outside the jeep - barely light jacket weather. Still, I knew the sun must’ve retreated at least an hour and a half ago. “Whatever. A night in a car will do me some good. Keep me humble.”

  The first building I saw for more than a hundred miles was a huge, tall brick structure. It wasn’t anything more than four walls that stretched up at least two hundred feet. With the darkness looming in and my headlights focused on the road I couldn’t see a door, but there had to be one. Nestled behind the tree line, it might have poised as a marker or something, but I didn’t think too much about it.

  Despite the moonless night, the town was easy to make out. Along the main causeway, closed shops were illuminated by electrical street lamps, and there was even a bar that was still open. Very few cars sat parked against the sidewalks, and I slowly rumbled past the beam of yellow light spilling from the open bar door. Even with my windows up, my music playing softly, I could hear the chatter, and I bit down on my bottom lip.

  I was just barely old enough to drink, but a vivid image of my graduation party after college flashed through my mind’s eye. Plus, I haven’t eaten since before I boarded the plane.

  That thought made me push the breaks, and my stomach rumbled loudly. Sitting there in the middle of the street, I hit the steering wheel gently with a low groan.

  “Right…” I pressed down on the gas to swerve into a long stretch of empty parking spaces on the side of the street. “That’s why it’s a terrible idea to think too much, Sylvia. God-”

  For a moment, I picked at my clothes, wondering, and worrying about what I was wearing. Like a proper woman should, my mom liked to say. My navy-blue shirt was classy, with flowers dotting the hem and modest neckline. The three-quarter sleeves were a little annoying, continually moving as fabric flared out at my elbow. Still, it was a nice, comfortable shirt - not too risqué but still short of being considered restricting.

  Climbing out of the car, I shoved my keys into my purse and hiked up my jeans. They were faded and spotted with small rips at the knees, stretched from years of use.

  “I hope they have something good… like a tomato grilled cheese.” I hummed in appreciation of my own suggestion, and my chest lightened. Starting across the street, my eyes fixed on the bar, and my ears picked up loud drunken conversations. It wasn’t a particularly small place, either; it certainly wasn’t a hole in the wall type. There was a huge display, windows covered in spray paint to depict a moose and a bear. Hopping up onto the sidewalk, my eyes caught the sign that hung above the door in what looked like hand burned wood.

  The Bear’s Den. My lips upturned into a smile, and I took a deep breath before stepping through the threshold.

  Instantly, the smell of beer wafted up to my nostrils, and my eyes scanned the bar that was big enough to be a restaurant. Every table was occupied by people that were clearly well past tipsy. Racks of antlers and heads littered the walls, and between them were countless photographs. The dark stained hardwood under my feet had seen so many shoes that it creaked with each step. It was a bright place, nothing like the bars in Maine a person went to just to get sloshed and start bar hopping.

  Wandering towards the wide, long bar that took up an entire wall, I scanned the length for an empty seat. I could feel eyes on me, but my alien presence wasn’t enough to draw too much attention. Planting my butt on a well-worn, crackling leather stool, I leaned against the wall that marked the end of the bar to wait. My eyelids drooped, and I could feel the backlash of driving for three hours begin to creep up my back.

  It was too noisy to nod off, but I was sleepy enough that everything buzzed like static in my ears. The only thing that really stood out was the occasional, boisterous laughter that forced me back into full awareness.

  “Long day there, Goldie?” My gaze flickered to the owner of the deep, masculine voice, and my head bobbed absently in a nod. It took my slugg
ish brain a second to actually see the man leaning on his elbows across from me. The respite my mind had found outside the car was almost too much to resist.

  The key word there was almost.

  Large hands were clasped together, and my eyes trailed up incredibly defined, muscular arms sleeved in tattoos. A sleeveless black shirt did nothing to hide the ropes of muscle that wound under taut, tanned skin. For a moment, I couldn’t do anything but stare, with only one thought running through my mind. The bartender was absolutely monstrous, even with his broad shoulders curled to make him seem smaller.

  It didn’t. Instead it gave him this air of a predator coiled and ready to strike.

  Flickering to his face, my eyes drank in the sharpness of his features even as his jaw hid behind thick stubble. It was somewhere between a shadow and a beard, and my fingers tightened around my glass. Thick eyelashes framed swirling, chestnut brown eyes the matched the shoulder length hair he hadn’t bothered to tie up.

  Rugged, mountainous… just downright sexy… The thought made me blink, and heat crept up my cheeks when I realized he was still waiting for a reply.

  “Yeah, pretty long. Do you have a menu?” My gaze followed the man as he nodded, ducking under the bar to pull up a card no bigger than 5x8 inches. Flickering to the laminated menu as he slid it along the width of the bar, my eyes narrowed when all I saw was a wine selection.

  “You can order pretty much anything, but we don’t have a food menu. Todd’ll cook something up for you if you’d like. If you want to drink, I’ll need to see an I.D..”

  Chapter Three: Ryan

  Sylvia Redding. It was such an elegant name; one that matched her looks to a tee. For a fraction of a second, I stared at the photo on her Maine state I.D. with appraising eyes. Most people looked horrible or awkward, but not her.