Bear Pause (BBW / Bear Shifter Romance): A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance (Bear Fursuits Book 6) (13 page)

BOOK: Bear Pause (BBW / Bear Shifter Romance): A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance (Bear Fursuits Book 6)
3.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Where are we going?” she asked in a whisper, once they were in the truck.

“I found us a place. If you don’t like it, of course we can go somewhere else. But it came highly recommended.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere I would be recognized,” she said.

“I don’t know where that would be in the state of Colorado,” Steve told her. “You Bascoms are all pretty darned famous.”

“I’m not in the papers much,” she said. “Or on the internet.”

“I found us someplace high-toned, where I think the employees will be very discreet. But you have to accept that if we’re going to get married it will have to be a public thing, if the lawyers are going to be satisfied. There can’t be anything secret about our marriage.”

“We’re not married yet.” Her voice was strangled.

“We soon will be.” He tried to keep the smugness out of his own voice. He didn’t think he was particularly successful.

* * *

Laura kept sneaking peeks at Steve. He was driving along with same calm smoothness with which he performed most tasks. His thumbs beat a happy tattoo on the steering wheel. He looked pleased and anticipatory. Some of her fears about the coming moment eased.

It had been six and a half days since she had asked him to marry her. She knew that those had been busy days, crammed as they were with trying to organize a better security system for the stables, coping with all the night duty of breeding season, and trying to figure out when and how the cattle had gone missing.

Steve had, of course, slept in the tack room on three of those nights. The downside of Carlos trusting him, was that he was assigned the overnight watch often. When he was free, Steve had visited her in her bedroom in the evenings after dinner.

He didn’t much care for sneaking around, as he put it. But he also didn’t spend the night. Oh, he always left her satisfied. But they never actually did it. She was beginning to think that maybe he didn’t really want to. And there wasn’t much use buying herself a husband, if he couldn’t perform in the sack.

But it looked as though Steve was finally on the same page. If all that it been standing in the way of them consummating their relationship was the fact that her daddy slept in the same house and they weren’t married, here in the city that would not be a problem. She just hoped that Steve had chosen a small hotel, where she would not be recognized and gossiped about.

She should have sorted this out before she left the ranch. Have prepared for it. But she had worn comfortable clothes, suitable for a long ride in the pickup truck they had taken. Steve wanted to collect the camera equipment at the same time as they signed the papers and there wasn’t room in her little SUV.

Worse than that, she was wearing her usual I-might-have-to-lift-a-bale-or-ride-a-horse underwear. Her sturdy plain whites were the opposite of sexy. And now that it came down to it, she was dreading being naked in broad daylight. Steve would be able to see all her flaws. But it was better to find out that her stud wouldn’t stand before they got hitched.

“Nearly there, sweetheart,” Steve said lightheartedly. He grinned at her. “I can hardly wait.”

Well, it was good to know that all the longing wasn’t exclusively on her side.

* * *

Laura looked puzzled when he backed into the parking space on historic Larimer Square.

“Why are we stopping here?” she asked him.

“This was the best jewelers I could find in Denver,” he replied. “I thought we were in agreement that you needed a ring. What on earth have we been talking about for the last twenty minutes?”

While she was still red-faced and spluttering, he came around to the passenger side of the truck and helped her down. He led her protesting into the sleek jewelry store, which was only identified by discreet gold lettering.

His online search had led him to believe that Farley’s was the place to find the right rock to put on his darling’s ring finger.
He wanted the finest ring he could coax his mate to wear. Something big enough that other men wouldn’t need to get too close in order to know to keep the hell away from his beauty.

He didn’t know if he could get Laura to wear a fancy diamond when she spent her life working with her hands. That was a good way to lose a finger or hurt yourself. But even if she only wore it for sometimes, she was going to have a rock on her ring finger.

But, standing in what the internet claimed was the finest jewelry store in Denver, wearing his best jeans and shirt, he had to admit he felt a touch out of place. He sure hoped his stuff had come from Chicago. He needed more clothes.

Laura didn’t look embarrassed to be seen with him, however. She just looked embarrassed. Even more embarrassed than she had looked when Carmichael had called her in to sign the prenuptial.

“Steve,” she hissed in his ear.

“Yes, darlin’,” he whispered back.

“We can find someplace else.” Her arm indicated the elegant showroom.

“I like this shop,” he said putting an arm around her waist and enjoying the tingle it gave him. He grinned at the man in the three-piece-suit behind the counter. “My fiancée needs a ring.”

The man’s stiff face got stiffer. He looked between Laura’s casual clothes and Steve’s work roughened outfit. “If you’ll come this way?” He set off for another counter.

Laura tugged at him, trying to get him to follow the salesman. But Steve had a pretty good idea why he was being led away from this case. That fellow was going to try to get him to buy his girl some skimpy little chip. But he had seen her soft and feminine bedroom. There wasn’t anything frilly about Laura, but she was a closet romantic. She deserved a romantic ring. And she was going to have one.

“I like these ones,” he said pleasantly, tapping the top of the case with his forefinger. “I think pink would look lovely on your hand.”

Laura shook her head. “When would I wear it?”

“Whenever you were not riding or punching cattle,” he said.

“Those rings start at thirty,” the salesman said in a hushed voice.

Steve stared him down. He picked up Laura’s shapely hand and showed it to the salesman. “Harlan,” he said, glancing at the inconspicuous name tag on the salesman’s lapel, “My fiancée has large hands,” he spread Laura’s big, muscular fingers across his palm and stroked her knuckles lightly with his thumb.

“What we need is a ring with some substance. Big broad band, and a good-sized stone that won’t look silly. I like those pink ones.” He pointed to a big square-cut rose-colored diamond outlined by two rows of smaller white diamonds. More diamonds marched in double rows to where the ring met the gold band.

Harlan’s bored eyes tightened. He stepped circumspectly on a buzzer. At glacial speed he spread out a strip of black velvet on the glass counter top, and smoothed it flat. He glanced behind him, unlocked the case without haste, removed the velvet box the ring was in. He selected the one Steve wanted and kept it in his fist while he returned the box to the case and relocked it. Reluctantly, he set the ring on the velvet.

“This one is sixty-three thousand,” he said. His lips were now so thin they had almost vanished. “About three thousand more if you want the platinum setting.”

Steve listened with amusement, and picked the ring up. He slipped it onto Laura’s hand where it nestled as if it had been designed for her. “What do you think, sweetheart? Gold or platinum. I favor gold myself.”

“I think a simpler ring would be better.” Her voice was squeaky.

“Nah.” Steve chuckled. “A solitaire would look dinky on your hand. I like this square cut one. It’s a good size. But the oval one is pretty too. And of course, if you don’t like this one, we’ll keep looking until we find one you do.”

She held her hand out, admiring the big rosy jewel against her skin. The pink diamond was the same shade as her own pretty nails. The multitude of stones caught the light and refracted it onto the ceiling in a thousand rainbows. She swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t need this,” she said.

“Need has nothing to do with it. I want you to wear my ring. I like this one. But, if it doesn’t appeal to you, there are two or three others that would do.”

Laura stroked the ring with her fingertip, and looked at him out the corner of her eye. Steve could tell she liked it. But her lips firmed stubbornly. Well, he could do stubborn back. And backing down from a fight wasn’t in his makeup. Dang. This little tussle was making him hot. Of course, watching Miss Laura drink water got him hot. And six nights of petting hadn’t cooled him off any.

He grinned at her and turned to the salesman again. “Harlan, let’s see the oval ring.”

A buzzer sounded, there was a click as a door in the rear wall unlatched, and an even better dressed man with thick gray hair emerged from the back room. He walked purposefully over to the three of them. Steve tracked his progress with interest.

“Good afternoon,” the newcomer said courteously. He looked disdainfully at their clothes and then his eyes went to Laura’s face. His eyes widened. “It is an honor, Ms. Bascom, to have you in our establishment. I am Lucas Farley. I wasn’t aware you were engaged.”

“Nothing has been announced,” Laura said dismissively. Steve grinned at Farley. Laura was totally unimpressed at being waited on by Mr. Farley of Farley’s Jewelers himself. “This is m
y fiancé,
Steve Holden.”

The men shook hands.

“That ring is very becoming,” Farley said. “But I believe you will find that the oval one suits your hand better.”

“I was just about to get it out for them, Mr. Farley,” Harlan said obsequiously.

Farley took over. He had that oval diamond on Laura’s ring finger, and was explaining how it complemented the shape of her hand better, and that gold enhanced the hue of the pink stone better than platinum, before you could say Jack Robinson. Steve relaxed and let Farley do his job.

“The matching wedding band would be a custom order,” Farley explained. “Since it will have to conform to the outlines of this ring.”

“I like the way these side bands open up,” admitted Laura, holding out her hand to admire the ring. “But the square one is much more comfortable.” She turned to Steve and glared at him. “Not that we’re having either.” She pulled off the ring and handed it to Farley. “If I might have a word with my f
iancé
?”

Steve followed her to a corner where a diamond and ruby bracelet coiled in splendid isolation around a midnight-blue velvet wrist. There was no price tag. “Yes, darling,” he said smiling down at her flushed face. “What is it?”

“I can’t let you buy me a ring that costs sixty-five thousand dollars. You can’t possibly afford it.”

“As it happens, sweetheart,” he told her confidingly. “I’m marrying money.”

Her face went from rosy cheeked to utterly white, and he was sorry he had teased her. “I can afford it,” he said. He kissed her hand where his ring would go. “I could get the same ring in some semi-precious version online, but that wouldn’t suit me. You trot back over there and I’ll see if I can’t get Farley to give us a discount.”

That did make her giggle. He kissed her cheek. “Let’s go,” he said. “We still have to go by FedEx before we go home.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Before she knew what was what, Laura was shaking hands with both Mr. Farley and Harlan, and they were wishing her well in her new marriage. And Farley was assuring Steve that if he ever wanted to go fishing, he knew the best spots for bass in Colorado.

Steve helped her solicitously back into the truck. She could hardly tear her eyes away from the magnificent ring that he had just paid for. Somehow she hadn’t expected that they would just walk out with the ring. She had imagined there would be a decent and decorous interval while the ring was sized, or custom-made, or something.

But Steve had been delighted that it fit so well, and he had gone off with Mr. Farley into the back office, and come out apparently bosom buddies with the older man.

“Now where to, sweetheart?” he asked, turning on the ignition. “FedEx, or the courthouse?”

“FedEx, I guess. Do you know where it is?”

“You may have to give me directions.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Steve said after they had loaded the truck bed with the bulky packages and locked the lid. “It’s two o’clock and all we had for lunch was coffee.”

Laura was too nervous to be hungry. But now that he mentioned it she supposed they should eat.

“Is there someplace around the courthouse where we could get a bite?” Steve asked.

“Are we going to the courthouse?”

“I thought you wanted to get married,” he said. He sounded put out.

“I do. But aren’t we putting the cart before the horse?”

“Well, I admit that I would rather not have a civil ceremony,” Steve sounded relieved. “But since there’s no waiting period in Colorado, I thought we could get her done today. We can follow it up with a bit of a bash in a few months, when we have time to organize one.”

“Aren’t you taking a lot for granted?” Even to her own ears, she sounded waspish.

The smug satisfaction that had enveloped him ever since they had gone into the jewelers vanished as if it had never been. “Cold feet?” he asked.

“We haven’t even had sex yet,” Laura pointed out. Her face was hot and she swallowed convulsively.

“We’ve had lots of sex, darling,” he objected. “Just not the baby-making kind. We’ll get there. I’m a shade disappointed that you’re not enjoying the ride, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say that,” she returned from a throat that was suddenly dry. “But from where I stand, it looks as though you don’t even want to have sex with me,” she blurted.

“I’m sorry you haven’t been satisfied.” The tattoo Steve’s thumbs made on the steering wheel was no longer lighthearted. “I’ll have to do something about that. What do you say, we wait a bit before we have that lunch?”

Other books

Squirrel in the House by Vivian Vande Velde
Steel Beneath the Skin by Niall Teasdale
Anatomy by Carolyn McCray
The Hills and the Valley by Janet Tanner
Dark's Descent by Basil Bacorn
The Red Hot Fix by T. E. Woods
Weddings Can Be Murder by Christie Craig
A Fatal Appraisal by J. B. Stanley