Blake, Her Bad Bear: A Paranormal Bad Boy Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

one of the men said.
    “We ain’t even telling you where you gotta kiss,” Ogre boomed, much to the laughter and jeers of his compatriots. The woman was still huddled over her beer, still had on a brave face, but Blake could tell from her body language—the stiffness in her arms, the way her smile was only half there—that she was regretting barging into Jack’s.
    “I got a place just down the road, y’know. A lot quieter,” a third man said.
    The woman sniffed. “That’s kind, but I like it here just fine,” she said, trying to make her voice louder. In another place, another time—among anyone other than bear-shifters—it would have been enough to cringe back even the most forward of men. But this was Beaver Creek. And these were Ursa Majors.
    “I’m getting sick of this cold shoulder business,” Ogre muttered miserably, and reached out to grab her arm. She let out a tiny gasp of surprise and horror as his meaty fist encircled her bicep and he pulled her toward him. “Let’s quit the games. I think we both know what we want here.”
    She was tiny beside him, and the merest flinch of his arm caused her to be wrested out of her chair. Now there was terror in her eyes, and Blake’s fist tightened as he made his way to Ogre and put a firm hand on the man’s shoulder.
    “That’ll be enough, Ogre,” he warned.
    Ogre turned, his eyes beady with rage, until he realized who it was that had admonished him. The Beta of the gang was not someone trivial, and he knew it—but he was still drunk and hyped up, and instead of letting go of the woman, he merely eyed Blake squarely.
    “Nothing going on here. Just turn around, Blake, enjoy the party,” he said casually, his huge lipless mouth twisting in a perverse caricature of wriggling caterpillars. Blake could smell the heat of his breath, the awful reek of it.
    “Why don’t we go and enjoy it together?” Blake offered, and made eye contact with the woman. She seemed to register that he was trying to help her, but it did little to assuage her fear.
    “I ain’t got no quarrel with you.” He grimaced. “But you’re sticking your nose where it don’t belong. Leave me alone, Blake. This ain’t got nothing to do with you. Just me and the woman having a friendly chat, so take a hike. I don’t want to fight you.”
    “You’re not exactly demonstrating the best Beaver Creek has to offer,” Blake said, his hand clasping Ogre’s shoulder more tightly. “Why don’t we let the nice lady go and have another drink?”
    “You fucking patronizing me, now?”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Blake said, eyeing him dangerously.
    The other men at the bar seemed to anticipate something, and all stood back as Ogre faced down the second-in-command. Finally, he let go of the woman and she gasped and rubbed her arm. No doubt there’d be bruises there in the morning. But if that’s the worst of it, she can thank her lucky stars , Blake thought, focusing solely on the lumbering giant in front of him. Ogre had at least fifty pounds on him, but the guy was slow and cumbersome.
    If possible, he had wanted to avoid just this, but the look in Ogre’s eyes told him that a fight was inevitable. He’d stood in the way of another bear-shifter, and while there wasn’t anything wrong with that, protocol dictated a reconciliation of sorts. In the case of shifters, that meant blood for blood.
    “This is a wake, Ogre, let’s show respect and let it go,” he offered, and then suddenly realized how weak that made him look in the eyes of the others. He frowned. “If you want to play it old school, then you’ll be visiting the hospital. No one wants that.”
    “To hell with you!” Ogre snarled, leaning forward. A number of the gang in the bar had turned their attention toward the maelstrom of anger bubbling in the center of the pub, and Blake realized he was now the center of attention for the second time that day.
    Blake deftly ducked under one of Ogre’s punches as the big guy