Hollywood Bear: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance by Chant Zoe

Author:Chant, Zoe [Chant, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-06-21T04:00:00+00:00

***

He saw the exact moment her mood changed. Sometimes, while he’d been enjoying the way her green-brown gaze sometimes touched quick and light as a butterfly to his hands, his arms, then back to his own face, her focus narrowed in. As if she sifted his words.

As if she intuited how near he’d stumbled on revealing things it was not his place to reveal. Whatever happened about his own secret, the shifter community that had welcomed stone-broke immigrants must be protected. He could not imagine taking anyone back there, but if he did, they would reveal themselves or not as they chose.

He’d intended this date to be something they both enjoyed, but also to try to get to know her. The problem with starting off with terrific sex first was everything felt backward. He wanted Shelley to understand that she wasn’t just a booty call.

Though maybe she felt that way about him?

She tipped her head, then said with a questioning look, “You don’t have to edit them out completely, if you don’t want to.”

“Edit them?” he repeated, his brain freezing.

She ducked her head in a nod, and he was distracted by the brush of her curls against her cheeks, those same curls he’d felt ruffled against his chest—

He blinked, as she said, “Your early films. I mean, I know how bad student films can be. You were kids. Believe me, I participated in some howlers at UCLA. And we thought they were great at the time.” Her entrancing lips curved. “The deep and meaningful ones were the worst.”

He grasped gratefully at this straw. “I have bored people into catatonia describing what we thought were surefire Oscar winners. Let me put it this way. The last time my buddies were in town, after a few beers we decided to screen one of these. I thought we were going into cardiac arrest. At the serious parts.”

He began to summarize his first precious film project, and smiled inwardly to see her doubt change to quiet laughter.

She responded by telling him about a senior’s final film project that she’d acted in, a painfully earnest examination of the need for recycling that had featured, for some reason known only to the filmmaker, students dressed as crows in order to symbolize the imminent destruction of the world.

“Each scene ended with us flapping and hopping around in circles, then swooping in slowly toward the camera to embrace it with our dark wings. I felt pretty dorky,” Shelley admitted. “But when the auteur screened the final film for us, we crows turned out to be only watchable part of it.”

“The rest being a couple of guys standing around speechifying, as the camera hopped and swooped around them—guaranteeing seasickness in all but the hardiest viewers.”

“You actually saw it?” Shelley asked.

“I was invited to judge the senior projects that year,” he replied. “It was one of the first of the batch. After three or four even more . . . earnest, shall we say, one of the senior profs took me out for a stiff drink and assured me that they were only going to get worse.

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