Romanced by the Highlander Bears (BBW MMF Menage Shapeshifter Romance) Read online

  Romanced by the Highlander Bears

  BBW MMF Ménage Shifter Erotic Romance

  By

  Tabitha O’Dell

  Copyright 2015 by Tabitha O’Dell

  All rights reserved

  Cover photo image credit: aarrttuurr | depositphotos.com

  Contents

  Romanced by the Highlander Bears

  Also by Tabitha O’Dell

  About the Author

  Romanced by the Highlander Bears

  Romance... Romance... Romance... damn it, why couldn’t I think of anything romantic?

  My neighbor looked over at me, her eyes squinting hard, as I tapped my pen against the armrest of my seat. The flight had been long, much too long, and yet I hadn’t jotted a single plot idea down in the little notebook my editor suggested I carry around with me for if an idea struck.

  The flight might have been long, but it wasn’t nearly long enough to come up with an idea. Hell, the last four months weren’t enough to come up with an idea! How was I supposed to just come up with something deliriously passionate?

  Especially when I’d never experienced it myself?

  Sure, I’ve dated, but I just never thought passion would be something I would get to experience. Being a bigger woman had shut those doors for me, at least mentally. I love my curves, I really do, but I’m sensible enough to know that some muscle bound hunk isn’t going to literally sweep me off my feet and throw me down in some haystack while he makes passionate love to me all night long.

  And yet that’s the kind of story that had started this whole thing. I’d written a book over the course of university, it was just something to do in my spare time, and on a drunken whim I’d sent it to a publisher. Only one. No one ever gets a book deal with the first place they submit to, especially not with romantic fluff about an average girl having a drop dead gorgeous highlander fall madly in love with her.

  But that was exactly what I got out of it. They loved the book, and with a six figure, three book deal, I was a published author and doing pretty okay for myself at twenty-three years old. Sure, I was no E.L. James, but I had enough for a nice apartment and not having to get another job.

  At least, until writer’s block hit me.

  My first book had taken me four years to complete. Sure, I only worked on it when I had spare time and I didn’t care if anyone else ever read it, but at least I’d had an idea.

  Now that idea was complete, edited, published, and had broken the best seller’s list. Barely, but it had been on there for one amazing week.

  The big problem was, that was my only idea. I had nothing else in the dark realms of my fantasies, nothing that was unique, at least. I jotted down a few ideas here and there, but then I realized I was just copying other books I enjoyed. Hell, I jotted down about a thousand words of plot ideas until I realized I was just rehashing Outlander.

  It was my editor, bless her heart, who suggested I take a trip to the land my book had been set in. Take a month and just sit and write, no distractions. Without another job or a boyfriend or anything to hold me back, there was no reason to say no and now I was on a flight to the UK where I hoped my inspiration was waiting for me.

  The publisher had taken care of everything. My book was their most successful all year and that meant they were pretty happy to take care of me, as long as I came through. If I didn’t get my book to them by the deadline, I knew I was going to be in some serious trouble. So when they offered to send me to the remote village of Lairg in Northern Scotland, I put a smile on my face and went along for the ride.

  At least when I arrived at the airport there was someone where to greet me. It would be a long trek from Heathrow to Scotland by train, but the publisher had thought to get me a guide to the station and from there I was on my own, with my directions of course.

  The last leg of my journey was with a rented car, and driving on the left hand side of the road took more getting used to than I expected. Add in all the roundabouts, the signs I wasn’t used to, and my need to stare at every landmark meant it took me five hours until I got into town, but finally, mercifully, I found the cozy little cottage where I would be spending the next month.

  “Hello!” a voice greeted me when I stepped out of the rented car. “You must be Ms. Humphry.”

  “Madeline,” I told her. “Sorry, and you are?”

  “Ailsa” the older woman told me. She was petite, but had bright green eyes that twinkled in the sun. “I’m the housekeeper ‘round here. The house has been in my family for two hundred years, though we usually have it rented out. It’s the kind of place tourists expect to find in these parts.”

  Her accent was thick, but she was friendly and made me feel welcome, so I ignored her dig at me being a tourist.

  “It’s lovely to meet you,” I told her. “Thank you for letting me use the house.”

  “Tis no problem,” she insisted as she showed me inside. “Now, we don’t have WIFI out this way, and the dialup is as slow as it was twenty years ago, but your boss told me that was no trouble at all.”

  Great, my mind groaned. Dialup was bad enough, and no WIFI? I guess it was for the best, less distractions and all.

  “Now, don’ be alarmed if you hear a ruckus outside,” she continued. “My boy Caelen has been clearing out some of the dead brush in the back. He and his buddy Ewan have been at it for the last week. If they get too loud for ye’, just tell ‘em to keep it down.”

  “Thanks,” I told her as I looked around. The cottage was a bit small, with low ceilings, but it was well maintained and very beautiful. It reminded me a lot of the place my hero in my first book lived, which I think my publisher took into account when they booked the place.

  “All right,” she said as she moved toward the door. “I left some food in the fridge, and there’s a shop just up the road in town for you to get any groceries you need. Anything comes up, you call the number I left by the phone or yell at Caelen if he’s around. We’ll be by quick as a whip.”

  “Thanks again, Ailsa,” I told her as I followed her to the door. For an older woman, she was still quite spry and had more energy than I did. It had been a long couple days of traveling and I was excited to find the bed in the cottage.

  The bed was tucked away in a small room at the back of the cottage and though it was only afternoon where I was, it was when I was used to sleeping back home and I dropped myself on the old, handmade quilt without even bothering to change my clothes. Sleep was all that mattered, and tomorrow I could try to figure out just what the hell I was going to try to write about.

  I didn’t even remember my head hitting the pillow, but sometime in the morning the rumbling of chainsaws brought me out of my deep sleep. For only half a second, I had totally forgotten where I was, but when I saw the wood paneled walls around me, it all started coming back. The flight, the cottage, the heads up about the housekeeper’s son cutting down trees.

  God, I hope he stops soon, I thought as I made my way to the kitchen in search of caffeine and food. There was no way I’d get any writing done if I was stuck having that grinding mechanical monster blaring all day long.

  Ailsa was right about putting food in the fridge for me, but she made it sound like she’d barely given me anything. Instead, it was stocked to bursting and I had my choice of fresh meats, eggs, cheeses, breads, and anything else I could imagine. The real problem was that despite my need for a cup of coffee, all I could find was a kettle and a few different varieties of tea.

  “Oh well,” I said to myself as I popped some bread in the toaster. “Tea is s
upposed to be healthy.”

  I settled on a bag of Earl Grey and let the kettle boil while my toast was being heated up. If I was going to do this, I guess I should do it right and as soon as my breakfast was ready, I went out to the living room and grabbed my laptop. There was no time like the present to get to work.

  But as I munched on my toast and sipped the slightly orange tea, my brain couldn’t focus. It wasn’t like I had an idea to run with, but with all the noise coming from outside I couldn’t even think about swallowing my food, let alone the plot for my next romance novel.

  Ailsa told you to tell them if they’re too loud, my mind reminded me. Sure, they had work to do, but the publisher was paying them good money to make sure I was comfortable and that meant chainsaws were out of the question. I had writing to do, and despite my lack of plot, I did actually plan on getting some done.

  I gave them until the time I finished my breakfast before I would go and ask them to quiet down. That was fair. It should give them plenty of time.

  But a breakfast of toast didn’t take more than a few minutes to gobble down and I forced myself to gulp down the last of the heavily perfumed tea. That is going to take some getting used to.

  My first thought was to go out there as is and tell them to keep it down, but I remembered that I was technically a guest there and I should maybe try to make an effort to be polite. Besides, once I got dressed, pulled my hair back, and brushed my teeth, they might actually be done being so loud.

  While I got dressed, I kept expecting the chainsaws to eventually shut down, but they were still roaring by time I’d pulled on a pair of dark blue leggings and a soft pink dress over top. With a quick brush of my hair and then my teeth, I resigned myself to the fact that I would need to go talk to them and I grabbed my sandals before I went out into the back yard.

  Despite it being perpetually raining in my book, the weather when I stepped outside was absolutely gorgeous. Not too hot, a few clouds, and the sun shining bright above. I couldn’t have asked for anything better, and yet I was stuck inside while I tried to at least get started on this stupid book.

  The backyard of the cottage sloped down into a thick bush of trees and I knew that Ailsa’s son and his friend couldn’t be that far into it. There was a dirt path leading from the freshly mowed lawn and I made my way into the densely packed forest.

  “Hello?” I called, but I doubted they could hear me over their machinery. Still, I called again and followed the path toward the sound of the chainsaws.

  When I finally found the two men, they were nothing like I expected. Ailsa had to be at least seventy years old, so I expected a son who was in his fifties, but head of me were two men who couldn’t have been more than thirty.

  Not just that, but they were exactly the kind of men the heroine in my book was lucky enough to have fawning all over her. Tall, muscular, with shaggy red hair and bare chests. Sweat gleamed off their skin and my mouth began to water.

  Which is exactly when they noticed me standing there.

  “Hello,” I called, but it wasn’t until they cut the noise of their chainsaws that they finally heard me.

  “Hello,” I tried again once there was some quiet. “Um, are you Caelen and Ewan?”

  “That we are,” one of the men said as he set down his chainsaw. “You must be the American lass staying at my Nan’s cottage.”

  “That’s me,” I said. “So I guess that makes you Caelen?”

  “Aye,” he told me. “And this is my mate, Ewan.”

  Ewan gave me a nod before he asked, “A little loud for you?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m really, really sorry, and if it’s a big deal then don’t worry about it.”

  “Not a big deal at all,” Caelen said as he took a step toward me. “Nan warned us about the noise, and we have saws we can use as well.”

  “I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” I said, and then I realized I was blushing. All I could do was hope there was a shadow on my face that disguised the red in my cheeks.

  “We insist,” Ewan said. “Besides, we ought to be tidying up some of this mess before we do any more felling.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “And, um, if you guys ever want to take a break and come for a drink or a snack, Ailsa stocked the fridge and you’re welcome to anything.”

  “We appreciate that, lass,” Caelen said. The way he said “lass” made my tummy flutter and I wanted him to call me lass while his kissed me all over, but I had to tuck that fantasy away. For now.

  “A cup ‘a tea is always appreciated,” Ewan told me. “Come by any time, we’ve got a fair bit of work to do out here yet.”

  “Sure,” I said as I started to back away. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. That, and suddenly I had a few ideas to jot down for my next book.

  By time I got back to the yard of the cottage, I was nearly jogging. Finally I had an idea, or at least close to one, for my next book and I had to get it written down before I forgot it, or got distracted, or it got too muddled. All needed was the short, sweet synopsis and then I could start running with it.

  Once I was inside, I dropped on the couch and began to type. Ideas finally started flowing out of me, or at least, an idea about my hero. Tall, with thick red hair and a large, muscular chest. All man, all heat, and super passionate. The plot would come later, but at least for now I was inspired.

  Too bad once I got my description of my hero done, and admittedly my heroine was simply a slimmer version of myself who lived a few hundred years ago, I was sunk. I might have a hero and a heroine, and a cute little cottage for them to make love in, but beyond that I was out of ideas. I didn’t know what made my hero tick and I certainly didn’t have and conflict to write about. Just a guy and a girl tearing each other’s’ clothes off.

  “Crap,” I muttered.

  For the rest of the day I aimlessly poked at the keys on my laptop, but couldn’t really think of anything to write down. I toyed with the idea of making him a long lost king, or her a princess in disguise, but nothing seemed right. Nothing sounded like it worked, and nothing was original.

  I spent the night watching British TV and hoping something there would spark my imagination, yet all I ended up doing was snacking on some deli meats that Ailsa left for me and feeling sorry for myself. At least she’d left some whiskey and a couple shots of that made me feel a lot better about my sorry state.

  With only more Coronation Street on, I finally gave up at midnight and decided to try to sleep. My whole sleep schedule would probably take weeks to get adjusted to being on Scotland time, and I’d probably only get it sorted right before it was time to fly back to the States, but at least it was worth a shot to try to sleep.

  I had just pulled the old, slightly musty, quilt over myself when I heard something outside. Deep and rumbling, and all too close, I knew whatever it was wasn’t a dog.

  Does Scotland have cougars? my mind raced as I listened to the noises coming from outside. I debated calling Ailsa about it, but it was midnight and the old woman was probably asleep. Besides, I was safe inside and the doors were locked. Whatever it was wasn’t getting inside. It was probably just looking for some trash to eat for dinner, whatever it was.

  Thankfully, the whiskey helped put me to sleep despite the strange noises coming from outside. For all I knew, it was the Lock Ness monster wandering around out there.

  I went to sleep dreaming about Scottish folklore and the stories of my youth changed and blended in my sleep. Stories of giant sea monsters, women who could change shape, druids, and others melted together and I only woke at the noise of the chainsaw coming from outside again.

  Part of me knew I should have been mad about them using the noisy saws again, especially after I’d explained I’d needed quiet for work. Well, actually I hadn’t said much of anything. Still, them making noise only gave me another chance to talk to them and this time I was going to be sure I looked my absolute best when I went to see about Caelen and Ewan keeping things down.

&
nbsp; My first task was a shower - something I hadn’t done in much, much too long. The water pressure was surprisingly good and I couldn’t help but imagine both men’s hands all over my naked, curvy body while the water ran over me. It was a hot, sexy fantasy that I knew had to be jotted down for my next book, but it was only that. A fantasy.

  Weirdly disappointed, I stepped out of the water and found an old blow dryer under the sink. My hair only hit my shoulders and didn’t take long to dry, but I was careful to give it new life and make sure it was nicely styled before I moved on to my makeup.

  Lastly, I grabbed a beautiful navy blue dress out of my suitcase and hoped the wrinkles from travel weren’t too noticeable. I’d bought the dress right after I’d gotten the first royalty check for my last book and needed something nice to wear for a party my publisher was throwing. The dress was a great throwback to fifties style, with buttons all the way up the front, capped sleeves, and a nipped waist that only made my curves look even deadlier and my boobs bigger.

  I may just be an American tourist to them, but I was going to do my best to get a little more inspiration from the guys doing work out in the brush.

  The last thing I did was brew a pot of tea for them to enjoy. I’d never done up a whole pot of tea and had no idea how man bags to use, but I just assumed that stronger was better and dumped four tea bags into the hot water and let it steep for a few minutes before I poured it into three cups.

  Luckily, Ailsa left a beautiful serving platter in the cupboard above the stop and once I had my three cups situated, I slid on my flats and made my way outside and into the gorgeous summer day.

  At least this time I had an idea of where I was going. Balancing three cups of tea without making a huge mess of the platter and myself was harder than I expected, but I took each step carefully and followed the sounds of the chainsaws. I knew it wasn’t far, I just needed to walk steadily and then I would be able to show the two boys just how sexy their temporary neighbor could be.