His to Bear [Bear Essentials] (The Stormy Glenn ManLove Collection) Read online

  Bear Essentials

  His to Bear

  George Carver's life changed forever in the span of twenty-four hours. He won a billion dollar lottery, but more importantly, the man sent to protect him turns out to be his mate. His very human mate. Luckily, Leon seems to know about shifters. He just doesn't know anything about mates.

  Leon de Oro spent several years as an Army Ranger before retiring to work for a friend in his security company. He never dreamed that he'd be sent on an assignment to protect the man of his dreams or that the bear shifter would claim they were fated to be together.

  People will do stupid things for money. They'll do really stupid things for a lot of money, and George had a lot of money. A billion dollar lottery win brings people—old and new—out of the woodwork. Leon has a hard enough time keeping George and his billions safe. Trying to decide if he's ready to settle down with a mate might be impossible.

  Genres: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Contemporary, Paranormal, Shape-shifter

  Length: 39,781

  HIS TO BEAR

  Bear Essentials

  Stormy Glenn

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  His to Bear

  Copyright © 2019 by Stormy Glenn

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-764-5

  First Publication: March 2019

  Cover design by Jess Buffett

  All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Stormy believes the only thing sexier than a man in cowboy boots is two or three men in cowboy boots. She also believes in love at first sight, soul mates, true love, and happy endings.

  You can usually find her cuddled in bed with a book in her hand and a puppy in her lap, or on her laptop, creating the next sexy man for one of her stories. Stormy welcomes comments from readers.

  For all titles by Stormy Glenn, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/stormy-glenn

  www.stormyglenn.com

  www.facebook.com/stormy.glenn.39

  www.stormyglen.tumblr.com

  www.twitter.com/stormyglenn

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  HIS TO BEAR

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  HIS TO BEAR

  Bear Essentials

  STORMY GLENN

  Copyright © 2019

  Chapter One

  9-27-42-43-58-6

  George Carver swallowed tightly then glanced between the lottery ticket in his hand and the numbers displayed on the TV screen.

  It wasn't possible.

  It just wasn't possible.

  He got up and walked over to his desk. He leaned the ticket against the screen then booted up his ancient laptop. His hands shook as he typed in the website for the Mega Money Lottery contest. The website seemed to take forever to load.

  It was probably just a few seconds.

  He had good internet.

  Once again, he glanced at the numbers on the ticket he'd purchased on a whim down at the local corner grocery store and double-checked them with the ones on his screen.

  They were the same.

  All of them.

  He'd gotten all six numbers.

  Holy fuck!

  George just sat there and stared. It really had been a whim. He'd been standing in line at the grocery store when he saw the flashing numbers on the lottery machine. One point six billion dollars.

  He couldn't even conceive of that amount of money.

  After paying for his purchases, he'd had two dollars left. He briefly thought about grabbing a coke, but then decided, why the hell not? He knew he'd never win, but it was nice to dream, so he'd bought a lottery ticket. He'd hit the random number generator, not wanting to try and choose numbers himself.

  9-27-42-43-58-6

  The winning lottery numbers.

  Holy fuck!

  George clicked the button directing lottery winners on what to do next. It took him a moment to figure out exactly what he was reading. The directions weren't that user-friendly. He grabbed the ticket and signed his name across the back of it then picked up his cell phone and took a picture of the signed ticket.

  Now, he just needed a place to hide it until he could figure out what to do.

  George started looking around his room. He spotted several different places he could put the ticket, but none of them seemed that secure. It wasn't likely that his house was suddenly going to be robbed, but he wasn't taking any chances.

  He also didn't want to hold on to the ticket until he was ready to go to the lottery headquarters and claim his prize. He was too afraid he'd be mugged on his way down to the office. Or kidnapped. Hit by a bus. Crushed by a falling meteor. Abducted by aliens.

  The list was endless.

  According to the lottery website, he needed to make several copies of the signed ticket then place it in a safety deposit box for safe keeping. He then needed to get a lawyer, a financial planner, and an accountant.

  That list was endless, as well.

  What was a trust or limited liability company?

  Family limited partnership?

  George squinted as he stared at the screen. He was supposed to check the records for attorneys, accountants, and financial planners to see whether there had been any complaints filed with state disciplinary authorities.

  That couldn't be that hard, could it?

  George reached over and grabbed his phone, dialing a number he knew by heart. "Hey, Ford, can you come over? I need a little help with something."

  "Yeah, I'll be right there."

  Sure enough, five minutes later the front door banged open and Ford walked in. It kind of helped that he lived in an apartment two floors down.

  "What's up?"

  "Lock the door."

  Ford raised an eyebrow, but did as George asked.

  George got up and walked over to the radio, turning it on loud enough to muffle their words, but not so loud that they couldn't hear each other talk.

  Ford's forehead furrowed as he walked closer. "What's going on? Are you okay? You're acting all weird."

  Ford would know. Not only was he George's best friend, but he was also his cousin. They'd been born a week apart. Being so close in age, they'd always been lumpe
d together. The good part was that they'd become best friends.

  "Come here." George waved Ford over to his laptop, then pointed to the screen. "Look at those numbers."

  Ford squinted down at the screen. "9-27-42-43-58-6. Okay. Why am I looking at them?"

  George held out the lottery ticket. "Now look at these numbers."

  "9-27-42-43—" Ford gasped. His hand started to shake. "George."

  "I know, right?"

  "9-27-42-43-58-6. Jesus, George. You have all the numbers right, every damn one of them."

  "Yeah." George swallowed tightly as he pushed his glasses up his face. "That's a lot of money, Ford."

  One point six billion dollars.

  He couldn't even say it.

  "Shit." Ford's eyes grew huge. "You need to talk to Dad before you do anything."

  "You think he could help me with this stuff?"

  "Uh, yeah. Dad's a CPA. This kind of stuff is right up his alley."

  George chuckled nervously. "Fancy a trip to Paris? Or a new car?"

  He could afford it now.

  "I wouldn't turn down a cup of coffee," Ford said.

  And that was why Ford was his best friend. Even with a billion dollars on the line, Ford wouldn't take advantage of him.

  "Come on." George tucked the lottery ticket into his pocket then grabbed his jacket. "I'll buy you a cup of coffee after I stop at the bank."

  Ford lifted an eyebrow. "Dude, I can pay for my own coffee."

  "No, it's not that. I have money. I need a safety deposit box. I don't want anything to happen to this ticket before I have a chance to turn it in."

  "You should take a picture of it."

  "I already did."

  "Make a copy of it so you have it on you."

  George hadn't thought of that. He pulled the ticket back out of his pocket and walked over to his printer. He made two copies, one for him and one for Ford, making sure he got both sides of the lottery ticket on the printout.

  He folded his up and stuck it into his wallet then handed the other one to Ford. "Here, hold on to this for me. Put it in your wallet or something."

  Ford shrugged as he took the printout, folded it up, then slid it into his pocket. "Why do you want me to have a copy?"

  "In case I lose mine."

  "Better hope you don't."

  George chuckled nervously. "Right?"

  He slid the original ticket back into his pocket. "Okay, let's do this."

  He needed to make sure his future was somewhere safe before he started planning it.

  "Have you thought of taking a picture of yourself with the ticket, just so you can prove you are you?"

  George glanced at his cousin. "Do you think I should?"

  Ford shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."

  George dug the ticket back out of his pocket then held his phone out to Ford. He lifted the ticket until it was right in front of him then stared at the cell phone Ford was holding up. "How's this?"

  "Raise it up a little. I want to do a close-up so we can read the numbers."

  George raised the ticket up a little more then looked at the camera lens on the cell phone again. He wasn't ready to smile simply because he was too freaked out at the moment, but he tried not to look too upset.

  "Okay." Ford handed the phone back. "Let's get that little gold-plated beauty somewhere safe then go talk to Dad."

  "I want to put your name on the safety deposit box so that if anything happens to me, you have access to the ticket."

  Ford raised an eyebrow. "I could bump you off for all those millions."

  "And leave you to deal with Uncle Allan and Aunt Helen all by yourself?" George snickered as he shook his head. "I don't think so."

  He placed the lottery ticket back into his pocket, his cell phone in his other pocket, then picked up his jacket again. There was a part of him that was terrified to step out the front door. His luck had never really been this good, and he was scared that it was all some cosmic joke.

  Another part wished he could teleport directly into the bank vault. He wanted to get the lottery ticket somewhere safe as quickly as he could. That part of him was scared that something would happen and he'd lose the lottery ticket. The building could catch on fire. The elevator cable could snap and he'd fall to a crushing death. He could get mugged on the way to the bank. He could be hit by falling space debris.

  The possibilities were endless.

  George was kind of surprised at how easily they reached the bank. He expected someone to jump out at them at any moment, demanding the lottery ticket. It didn't happen. He was even able to get a safety deposit box and place his little sheet of future gold inside without any hassle, although he did put Ford's name on it as the only other person able to access the box.

  It wasn't until they got outside that his knees began to shake.

  Ford grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a bench in front of the bank. "Come sit down before you fall down."

  George took his cousin's advice and walked over to sit down on the bench. He dropped his head forward into his hands and just breathed, hoping he didn't start to hyperventilate.

  It was a very real possibility.

  "How's your bear?"

  George checked deep within himself where his bear lived when not out and about. "He feels my agitation, but he's under control at the moment."

  It would be really bad if his bear decided to make an appearance. Humans tended to get upset when a huge bear suddenly appeared in front of them. Considering he was bigger than a Kodiak bear, he'd freak everyone out.

  "Well, let's get you to Dad's so you can fur out if you need to."

  That wasn't the worst idea he'd ever heard.

  George drew in a couple of cleansing breaths then climbed to his feet. He could do this. The hard part was over, for now at least. George had no idea if that would change or not after he talked to his uncle. He just hoped he was prepared for whatever was coming.

  "You know, this almost doesn't seem worth it."

  Ford gave him a wide-eyed look. "One point six billion dollars doesn't seem worth it?"

  George shrugged. He doubted his cousin would understand. Ford had grown up in a loving household, in a clan that readily accepted him, surrounded by people that only wanted the best for him.

  George hadn't been so lucky.

  His life had been relatively easy until puberty hit and he shifted for the very first time. After that, it had pretty much gone straight to hell. Between his parents' schemes to try and get him to be alpha of their clan and their alpha's fear that George would do just that, life had been dismal at best.

  So what if he was alpha born? He certainly didn't feel like an alpha. He had no desire to lead his own clan. He had no desire to take a clan away from anyone else. He had no desire to do anything but read his books and paint his pictures.

  Maybe the fates had screwed up somewhere along the line. Everyone told him he was alpha born and he was supposed to lead a clan. He just didn't have that desire. He'd rather amble through the woods looking for honey.

  He might have been alpha born, but he was decidedly not an alpha. If anything he seemed to have omega tendencies. He hated confrontation. He hated fighting. He hated dominating others. Hell, he hated asking for ketchup when he got a burger.

  Alpha born or not, he was an omega.

  Chapter Two

  "De Oro, I have an assignment for you."

  Leon de Oro groaned as he turned to face his boss. "I just got off a two-week surveillance detail. All I want to do is go home, shower, eat something, and then sleep for the three days you promised me when I took that assignment."

  Spending a week in some dingy apartment watching the building across the street was not a walk in the park. He was cold, hungry, and tired. He'd done what he needed to do to complete his assignment, but now he wanted time off.

  Gareth grimaced. "I know, but I need you on this one."

  Leon tugged at the piercing in his lower lip for a moment before rolling his eyes. "Fine, b
ut I want a week off after this one. Paid."

  "Done."

  Leon's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

  What kind of craptastic assignment had he just agreed to? It had to be something pretty bad if his boss was agreeing to pay him for a week off.

  "Who do I have to kill?"

  "No one. This one is strictly protection."

  Leon groaned. Again. "Do I have to shave?"

  He hated the protection details where he had to be clean cut and in a suit. Suits made him itch. Standing guard next to some bleach-blonde bimbo as she got sloshed and hit on anything with a pulse, including him, was not his idea of a good time.

  He'd much rather be at a bar, preferably one where men were men and they liked playing together. Funny, he'd never been given an assignment in a leather bar, where he'd fit in a whole lot better. He was the twink mothers forgot to warn their kids about.

  "No, it's not that kind of protection detail."

  "Okay, I'm listening."

  And intrigued.

  "Come into my office. This is need to know only."

  Okay, now he was really intrigued.

  Leon followed his boss into the man's office, shaking his head as he went for the metal folding chair across the desk from Gareth's. "It amazes me that a man who runs a multi-million-dollar security company has an office that looks like you didn't spend more than thirty dollars on it."

  Metal chairs, a cheap pressboard desk, and an assembly of papers and books littered the room. The artwork on the walls were maps and wanted posters. There was a potted plant in the corner. It was dead.

  Gareth snorted. "People don't pay me for my decorating sense."

  That was a good thing. He'd be broke in two seconds flat. But considering the high level of clientele they tended to get, he might want to consider investing a little money in a better decorated office.

  Leon wasn't stupid enough to mention that, however. Gareth was built like a Mack truck. He'd take Leon apart without breaking a sweat.