Bearly There

Page

Bearly There

ISBN # 978-78651-379-3

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2016

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright January 2016

Edited by Rebecca Scott

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2016 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

City Shifters

BEARLY THERE

Bailey Bradford

Book one in the City Shifters series

One surly bear and one bunny boy…what could possibly go wrong?

Jagger Osterman is having a bad day. In fact, he’s not the slightest bit impressed with 2015 at all. His job is on the line, and it’s not like he loves being a marketing wunderkind, but he has to do something to pay the bills. If he had his way, he’d just vanish into the mountains and live out his life as the black bear he yearns to shift into. Unfortunately, Jagger doesn’t have the time to let his beast run. He has responsibilities that he can’t walk away from.

Kevin Kelly could tell Jagger a thing or two about bad days, bad years, and just out and out bad luck. He made the mistake of smarting off to a curandera years ago and hasn’t been able to shake the curse she put on him yet. There’s not an area of his life that hasn’t been screwed up in one way or another. As a pronghorn shifter, he’d be okay on his own in the wild. Sure, there’d be predators, but Kevin had come to realize the worst predators were the human kind.

But he can’t shift. He’s been solidly bound to human form since being cursed.

Two men, both trapped in their own ways. They’re about to find out that freedom comes in many forms.

Dedication

Remember to laugh every day.

To my friends and family, I love you all.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Hooters: Hooters, Inc.

Home Depot: The Home Depot, Inc.

Pretty Woman: Buena Vista Pictures

Facebook: Facebook, Inc.

Wolverine: Marvel Comics

Grease: Paramount Pictures

Greased Lightnin’: Jim Jacobs, Warren Casey

Google: Google, Inc.

Botox: Allergan, Plc

Cheshire Cat: Lewis Caroll

Chapter One

It was going to be another one of those days. So far, 2015 had been filled with them.

"Jagger, the Montemayor case is on the line. They hate the ad campaign idea. Hate it." Debbie growled the last two words out as she tossed the file on his desk. Assholes. Screw professionalism here. They’re just being jerks because they want a high-quality ad at a bargain-bin price.

Jagger picked up the file and opened it. It was a brilliant ad campaign he’d planned, if he did think so himself. He was good at his job, though more and more, he found himself disillusioned about it. Crap like this doesn’t help at all.

What is it, specifically, that they hate about it? he asked, glancing up at Debbie. With her blade-sharp cheekbones and Nordic good looks, she could have been a model. Would have, but according to her, she was too heavy and she wouldn’t starve herself for anyone. Jagger didn’t get the too heavy part, but he was aware that society had warped visions of both male and female beauty.

And he was glad he had Debbie on his team, because she was one tough, smart person.

The cost, of course, she seethed. They don’t want to pay three million for a successful and innovative campaign. They want something similar to this but for less than half the cost.

Jagger wanted to throw the whole damned file away. Well, that’s gratitude for all our hard work, huh?

Yeah, Debbie scoffed. After you brought them back from the brink of bankruptcy and doom three years ago and Sonny Montemayor swore he’d be indebted to you and your brilliance forever. Asshat.

It’s business. And Jagger hated it. "What is an asshat, anyway?"

Don’t give me any shit, Jag, Debbie warned. I know you’re even more pissed off than I am over this.

Jagger didn’t bother to deny it. Debbie had worked with him for seven years and she knew him well. Have we tried reaching Sonny?

Debbie snorted. Oh yeah, several times. He’s miraculously out of the office every time, and his cell goes to voicemail. Cowardly bastard hasn’t returned any of our calls directly. He’s had his assistant pass along messages. It’s like he’s reverted to a fourth-grader.

"Seen it before when someone becomes successful and wealthy. Jagger used a finger to trace a path down the numbers for the ad’s costs. There’s no way to do this any cheaper. If he wants a whole different campaign for his organics, then it’ll be equal to what he’s willing to spend. We’re not carrying the costs for this."

Renner won’t be happy, Debbie pointed out. He just about shit a pony over the cruise ship campaign. As if we could have predicted that whole debacle. Then with the Fortuna company dropping us for that new ad agency? Yeah, Renner will not be happy if we lose this client.

He won’t be happy if we eat the cost on it, either, Jagger muttered. God damn it. I need to talk to Sonny, or someone who can sit down and go over other options. That’s not going to be his assistant.

You might have to go all stalker-like on him and hunt him down in person. Debbie sat in the chair across from him and took a pen out of her suit pocket. Hand me some paper.

Debbie preferred to work the art for her ideas out by hand first before moving on to the more complicated techniques. Jagger passed her a notepad he had in the top drawer. Have at it. I’m just going— Movement outside his office window caught his attention and he frowned. There were definitely people approaching his office.

Shit, he’d hoped no one would remember. As stressful as the office atmosphere had been lately, there was more to think on than Jagger’s birthday.

But maybe he was wrong, and whatever was going on had nothing to do with his birthday.

Debbie looked up at him, then twisted around to peer over her shoulder. Her smile in profile warned Jagger that he was about to be embarrassed at the very least.

Come on in! Debbie called out.

Don’t— Jagger started, but the door was flung open and his jaw dropped as he stared at the blond-haired man wearing a pink bunny costume.

Just be glad we only paid for the singing telegram and not the strip-o-gram, Debbie said as the blond stepped right into the office.

Well now, the bunny man drawled as he cast his hazel gaze on Jagger and smirked. Is this the birthday boy? No one told me he was so handsome.

Jagger snapped his mouth shut and leaned back in his seat. He was probably a nice, bright shade of red, but he’d be damned if he’d let himself be any more embarrassed than he already was. He crossed his arms over his chest. Debbie, maybe you could move to one side so you’re not blocking the view.

Snickers and outright laughter came from the people gathered in and beyond the doorway. It was their amused and happy faces that made Jagger determined to at least appear to enjoy this…bunny. It hadn’t been just him who’d had a shit time so far this year.

Bunny Boy kept that smirk in place as he waved his fluffy pink boa. He was wearing miniscule, shiny pink shorts and a glittery pink tank top. Jagger noted the promising bulge those shorts covered but didn’t let himself stare. He had more control than that.

Strangely enough, though, the man turned him on. Jagger was stunned by that. He preferred his lovers to be more like himself—bulky, rough-looking—

So birthday boy here is how old? the bunny asked.

Thirty-three, Jagger answered, aware that when he did so, Bunny Boy shivered ever so slightly. He stopped himself from remarking on that, or asking if the man wasn’t supposed to be singing.

Oh ho, double treys, Bunny Boy crooned. That’s gotta be a lucky sign. For you, at least. You don’t look a day over thirty.

Jagger doubted it, but he wasn’t opposed to a cute guy flattering him, even if it was said guy’s job.

On closer inspection, Jagger could see the palest of bruising under his left eye, and… He squinted. Yes, there under his left cheek was another bruise. Jagger suspected makeup was involved in the cover-up of both of those places.

Bunny Boy plastered on a smile that looked pretty damned fake to Jagger, and he began playing with that boa as the music started. Not the traditional birthday music, oh no, that wouldn’t have done for him. This sounded like banjos and inbreeding had been involved in the conception of the song.

And Bunny Boy started singing along to lyrics that had everyone but Jagger laughing. Jagger didn’t take them personally—it wasn’t as if the song had been written just for him, and he understood that everyone in the office could use a little enjoyment and release from the pressures at work.

But Bunny Boy turned around and shook his pink-covered ass, and Jagger’s dick demanded all the blood from upstairs at the sight of that bubble butt. Jagger was trying his best not to drool, trying instead to keep an amused look on his face when he was thinking filthy thoughts about what he’d like to do to Bunny Boy’s ass.

Not that he’d do any such thing. It’d just been a while since he’d gotten laid. Jagger forced his gaze up Bunny Boy’s lean body just as he turned around. Jagger noted the way his nipples pressed against the thin tank top. When he made it up to Bunny Boy’s face, there was a sardonic smile pulling at those full lips.

Jagger squashed down his arousal as irritation spiked through him. He got the distinct feeling he was being laughed at then, and he didn’t care for it at all.

Chapter Two

Oops.

Kevin Kelly didn’t have to work at ditching his amusement once he was aware that the handsome guy across the desk had taken it wrong. For a short few moments, Kevin had been happy and flattered because he’d thought the man—Jagger, oh my God, his name is Jagger!—had been giving him an appreciative look.

It’d been a long damn time since an attractive guy had showed any interest in him. And when Kevin was dressed in pink and shorts that would make a Hooters’ girl blush? Well, he was already feeling like a moron.

So he’d thought, just going by the way Jagger had ogled him, that maybe Jagger was interested. For a few seconds, anyway, until Kevin’s attempt