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Bear and Square 1St Edition Milly Taiden Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF
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BEAR AND SQUARE
PARANORMAL DATING AGENCY
MILLY TAIDEN
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Published By
Latin Goddess Press
Winter Springs, FL 32708
http://millytaiden.com
Bear and Square
Copyright © 2022 by Milly Taiden
Cover: Willsin Rowe
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Property of Milly Taiden
January 2022
Because Paige isn’t just some spoiled actress – she’s his fated mate,
and someone is tracking her every move. Dev is on the case. But
could an old enemy of his be the real threat? Time will tell. He just
needs to keep Paige alive to see where their romance goes.
Hopefully not before their luck runs out.
—Romance lovers rejoice. It’s time to make this stubborn bear fall in
love.
CHAPTER ONE
GERRI
G erri Wilder loved a good shopping day, but when she got a
chance to walk along Rodeo Drive with the sun shining? That
was a real treat.
Los Angeles wasn’t her favorite place in the world, but it was
always an interesting spot to be.
There was always something happening in this town, and usually,
it meant meeting all kinds of people. There just wasn’t a dull
moment here.
That much was made obvious when a young woman barged into
the shop where Gerri was admiring an expensive gown. The
newcomer tucked her chin low and did her best to disappear behind
her sunglasses. She looked over her shoulder nervously before
ducking behind a rack of cashmere sweaters.
Seconds later, a whole crowd of photographers ran by. Their loud
shouts made it through the thick windows as they looked around,
presumably searching for the woman on the lam.
Interesting.
Gerri slowly made her way to the cashmere sweaters.
“Oh, hello.” Gerri gave her a comforting smile.
The young woman looked so familiar — but also on the brink of
panic.
Gerri never forgot a face, but this one was lost to her for some
reason. “Have we met?” she asked.
The black-haired beauty snorted and pushed her huge sunglasses
up her nose. “I get that a lot, but I promise you, we haven’t. I’m
nobody.”
It was Gerri’s time to laugh. “I doubt that.” She nudged her chin
toward the three paparazzi still sniffing around. “They sure seem to
know you.”
Her mouth dropped down in a surprised and shocked O. “Please
don’t attract attention here. I beg you.”
“I won’t,” Gerri promised. “Are you in distress, darling?”
“Sorta, yeah. I’m just trying to have a moment to myself. I don’t
want to have my picture taken for one day. Apparently, that’s too
much to ask those assholes.”
Gerri finally placed the woman’s face. “You’re Paige Kirby.”
“Shh!” she hissed, her cheeks going red with fright as she
scanned the store for would-be attackers. “Don’t say that name. I’m
on the run.”
“I can see that,” Gerri chuckled. “From the media?”
“Something like that. I need a second to compose myself. I was
trying to buy a muffin and a coffee. I can’t even do that in peace. I
miss anonymity.” Her lower lip trembled. “I should’ve stayed in my
pj’s and bed. I don’t even know why I leave the house anymore.”
Gerri flipped through the sweaters, making a show for one of the
photographers looking through the huge window. “Just stay right
where you are.”
“They’ll find me. The second I go somewhere, they all show up.
It’s not normal. It really isn’t. I just wanna be Paige for a second,
you know? But I can’t do that. Not anymore. I miss me.”
“Darling, you’re a wonderful actress. Isn’t it worth it?”
“Not even a little bit. I’ve never been lonelier in my life.”
“Don’t you have any friends who can help you?”
Paige threw her head back with a laugh. “That’s hilarious. I don’t
have friends. People cozy up to me to get something out of me. To
bask in the limelight that always seems to follow me around.” She
pointed toward the photographers foaming at the mouth, looking for
her. “I get used all the time, so I don’t have friends. It’s not like I
trust people because of it. Although, apparently, I will spill all of my
secrets to a kind stranger.”
Gerri laughed softly and patted her shoulder. “I have that effect
on people. Don’t you have private security who can…” She tried to
find the right words and decided to reformulate her thoughts. “You
need a bodyguard who would at least be a line of defense against
the paparazzi.”
“Ha. I’ve tried that before. It didn’t work out so well for me. The
bodyguard took pictures of me and sold them. His firm fired him,
obviously. But the damage was done.”
“Oh, that’s no good. Look, I have a good friend who owns a
security firm. He can be trusted, I assure you.”
Paige winced. “I don’t know. I’ve been burned once before.”
Gerri sighed. “You poor darling. You must be so lonely. I’m
guessing there isn’t a special someone in your life who can help?”
“That isn’t even an option. Most men only want one of two things
from me. They wanna have sex so they can brag they bagged Paige
Kirby. Or they want me to talk to a producer about casting them in a
movie.”
“Right.”
“Right,” Paige repeated. “So yeah. I am definitely lonely.” She
sighed and shook her head. “I’m so sorry for unloading on you like
this.”
“Not at all. But I’ve got an idea.” Gerri took a Hermes scarf from
her purse and handed it to Paige. “Use this to cover your hair. I’m
getting you out of here. We’ll go for a glass of wine. You could use
it.”
“Oh, thank you. Seriously. You’re so kind.”
Gerri waved her off. “From one woman to the other, we need to
stick together.”
Paige draped the scarf over her long wavy black hair like a movie
star from a long-ago era. She was still stunning, but the
photographers would hardly take a second look at her.
Gerri snuck them out the door, strutting like she owned the place.
She didn’t stop until a cute little restaurant with a darkened window
was in view. They took one of the booths at the very back, and
Paige made sure her back was to the door.
They ordered a bottle of wine from the waiter and settled. Gerri
detected Paige was noticeably calmer. Her shoulders were no longer
at her ears. Even her breathing was less tense.
“Better?” she asked.
Paige nodded. “Yes. I owe you big for helping me.”
Gerri shook her head. “You owe me nothing, darling. I had to
help you. What kind of person would I be if I threw you at their
mercy?”
Paige sighed. “In my experience? A normal one.”
“Well, that makes me terribly sad for you.”
“Don’t be. I technically chose this.”
“Is that true? You wanted to be chased down the street?”
“No. I wanted to act. Make some art, make people laugh and cry.
The paps are something I have to deal with, apparently.”
“Hmm. And what does your manager say? Your publicist?”
“Are you kidding? They love it. If I didn’t know any better, I
would assume they were behind it, but that’s not possible. They
wouldn’t do that to me. I’ve asked them multiple times, and they
promised it would eventually blow over.”
“Don’t you wish you have love? A partner? A family?”
Paige nodded sadly. “All the time, but it’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible.”
Paige gave a bitter laugh. “I’d be surprised if I met a man that
didn’t want me to make him a star or to brag about dating me.”
“Darling, there are men out there like that.”
“I wish.”
“Wh..."
The flash of a camera momentarily blinded Gerri, cutting off her
response. She blinked away the burn. “How in god’s name did they
find us?”
“No idea,” Paige sighed. “They always manage to do it. No matter
how well I hide. It’s the most infuriating thing.”
“We need to go. We’ll leave through the kitchen and get you
home.”
“You don’t have to help me.” Paige’s face was pulled into a scared
and pained scowl.
“Of course, I do. Now, come.”
Gerri tugged her new friend out from the booth and marched
right through the service door. One of the cooks shouted at them,
but she raised a hand.
“Please, we’re just passing through.”
Too stunned by her confidence, the cook snapped his mouth shut
and watched them scurry by.
“How did you do that?” Paige asked.
“Easy. Just pretend you belong in a place, and no one pays much
attention. It’s easy to melt into the background when you’re not a
famous actress.”
Paige laughed, but it was humorless. More exhausted than
joyous. “I wanna be you when I grow up.”
Gerri smiled. “You really should give my friend a call. Remember
the name Bear Paw Protection. Will you do that? Give them a chance
for me.”
“Bear Paw Protection. Got it. I’ll give them a call. Promise.”
“Wonderful. Now let’s get you home.”
Gerri took Paige to the silver convertible she rented for her
holiday and followed Paige’s instructions up Sunset Boulevard to her
Beverly Hills home.
It was a massive thing made of white stucco with a high black
fence surrounding it. It was beautiful, but it didn’t look like a home.
“Do you live here alone?”
“Yeah, I do. Unfortunately. Thanks so much for helping me. Give
me your information, please. Next time I have a premiere, you are
going to be my plus one.”
“That’s not necessary, but it would be fun.” Gerri rattled off her
phone number. “Stay in touch, will you, Paige? I’ll worry about you if
you don’t.”
“I will. Care to stay? We can have a swim, take in some
sunshine? Maybe actually have some wine?”
Gerri grinned. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
And just like that, Gerri Wilder had made another friend. Paige
might’ve been a famous actress with a recognizable face splashed on
every tabloid, but the young woman was sad and lonely. She needed
something in her life to make it matter. To make it whole.
Perhaps love.
Maybe a family.
Something that would put the light back in her beautiful hazel
eyes.
“I’m going to make sure you’re just fine, Paige Kirby,” Gerri
promised as she drove away later that night.
The moon winked in agreement.
C H A P T E R T WO
PAIGE
P aige removed her ball cap carefully, rearranging the short wig
she had put on. The massive window in her agent’s office was
reflective enough to be a mirror.
Actually, pretty much everything in the room was shiny.
Her agent’s taste leaned toward gaudy. He didn’t believe in
minimalism, rather, flashing his wealth and success like a badge of
honor.
A lot of people in Los Angeles were like that.
Paige? Not so much. She wanted to go to a shady diner that had
the best fries and burgers and eat like no one would snap her
picture and paste it all over the tabloids and social media.
She still got teased about the photo of her, mouth wide open and
stuffing in half a donut.
What did the caption read?
Paige Melts Down Over Break Up
Pregnant Paige Pigs Out
Paige’s New Lover: Donut
It was mean, downright cruel. Why couldn’t she eat a donut if
she fucking wanted to? It was no one’s business.
But that wasn’t even true.
If she ate a donut, it was a whole lot of people’s business. Her
whole team got up her ass about it – almost literally for all the
squats they had her do the next day.
Beauty standards were a bastard in this town. Paige hated it. Her
waist size had nothing to do with her talent on camera.
A loud gasp pulled her out of her thoughts.
“What the hell did you do to your hair?” Jackson shouted at her
as soon as he walked into his office.
She patted down the short blonde hair. “Oh, I needed a change,”
she lied.
Like she would ever cut her hair and dye it so light. Paige loved
her long black waves. The women in her family all had the same
hair, and it was a point of pride to keep it long.
“Well, you look absolutely ridiculous. How am I gonna book you
in for gigs looking like that? You know you’ve got that reading with
Francesca Cortez next week. What is she gonna say? She won’t cast
you.”
Paige sighed. “Well, I’m sure Francesca will understand I can
wear a wig. Hair grows. It can be dyed back.”
“Whatever. I’ll have my assistant book you a hair appointment for
this afternoon. Has any pap snapped your mug like that?”
Yikes. Jackson was in one hell of a bad mood. He wasn’t exactly
the kindest person in the world, but this was a whole other level of
mean, even for him.
“It’ll be okay. I’m more than my hair. I’m sure Francesca will see
that.”
But the great Francesca Cortez would never see her wig — or her
real hair.
Paige wasn’t going to that meeting. It might be career suicide,
but she needed some time away from everything.
That included future jobs.
Paige had a plan.
Hence the wig.
No one would be able to recognize her, and no paparazzi would
be able to follow where she was going. She was desperate for some
alone time away from the strange world of Hollywood. Her life was
so far removed from what she had dreamed of as a child.
Paige needed a second — or a week — to catch her breath. It
would help her focus and realign herself.
She couldn’t do that with the paparazzi breathing down her neck
and judging every little thing she did. Paige could hardly remember
what it was like to be on her own, what it was like to not be chased
down the street. She was losing her grip. Not only over her life but
over herself. That wasn’t good for anyone.
It would have been awesome to trust Jackson, but Paige knew
how he would react. He would turn this into an opportunity to get
her name splashed over the media. He would send her to rehab,
stating exhaustion. The tabloids would get all the sordid details.
She wasn’t exhausted.
She was… Okay, so she was exhausted. But not in the way
Jackson would sell it. Paige wanted this to be a private moment. She
didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Any other person on the street
could go on a vacation without having to justify it to the masses, so
why should she?
Jackson stood at his window, hands on his hips, looking out over
LA’s landscape. He was quiet.
That meant he was probably gearing up for a verbal attack.
Paige readied herself for it.
“You know, Paige, I keep you on as a client by choice. Your
career isn’t going nearly as well as it should, and that’s entirely
because you’re too difficult. You don’t take all the roles you could.
You cherry-pick like that goddamn queen of England.”
But the queen of England wouldn’t play the sexbot in a buddy
comedy, flashing her tits for a joke.
She was sick of defending her choices to Jackson. Nudity wasn’t
something she was comfortable with. Not unless it was on the stage
and for a very good fucking reason.
Paige was discerning. Not difficult.
It was all a matter of opinion.
“You’re never going to be what you could be like this. Not with
that hair. I think maybe I’ll have to re-evaluate our contract. There
are dozens if not hundreds of young women out there who would
die to be in your position. And here you are, squandering it.”
Yup.
Paige sat there and took it.
Those other young actresses could have those roles. If they
didn’t want to be the next Meryl Streep, Viola Davis, or Idina Menzel,
they could have the roles Jackson kept sending her way.
Jackson continued. “You think you’re gonna get anywhere in this
town without me?” He laughed dryly. “Good fucking luck, kid. Now
get out of here and go fix your hair. You look ridiculous. I don’t want
your picture taken like that. Make sure to stay out of the news cycle
before you get it fixed.”
“Sure thing.”
Paige left without saying much more to her manager. Today’s visit
had been successful for one reason: now Jackson would tell folks to
look for a blonde with short hair. Not for her signature long black
locks.
If the paps got pics of her like this? Bonus. For once, she
wouldn’t mind. Then they would all obsess over her new look
instead of trying to find her.
Paige had a plan.
It was a thorough plan that took way too long to devise, but she
sure hoped it would all be worth it.
She left the building, wearing a hat over her wig and big
sunglasses. She scanned the street as she walked to her car, but
strangely, not a single photographer leaped from the bushes to snap
her picture.
Her disguise was good, but not that good.
Something didn’t feel right. Where were the hordes of
disrespectful so-called professionals?
Nowhere to be seen.
Figures they wouldn’t show the one time I want them to.
Unreliable fuckers.
Paige drove all the way out of Los Angeles. She didn’t stop until
she reached a small town outside of Ponoma. There, she parked her
car, took off the blonde wig, and replaced it with a shoulder-length
auburn one. She dabbed a deep burgundy shade of lipstick on her
lips and put on a pair of thick glasses. The effect was staggering.
She barely looked like herself anymore.
She took a small suitcase from the trunk of her SUV and rolled it
behind her as she went to the counter of the car rental. With a deep
breath, she pushed through the door, half expecting people to rush
her as soon as they noticed her.
Nope.
She blended into the background. Just another patron that had
nothing special going on. She made her way to the counter, and the
worker, a tall and lanky woman with short-cropped hair, barely
looked up from her screen.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, bored to tears.
“I’ve got a reservation on a small car. Not an SUV.”
“Name on the reservation?”
“Viola Menzel,” she answered automatically.
“ID,” the woman asked.
Paige’s sweat was seconds away from making it through her wig.
She had manufactured a fake driver’s license, and she could only
hope it passed the test.
The worker took it, barely glanced at it, and slid it back to her.
“How will you pay?”
“Cash,” she tried to sound as bored as the clerk. She dropped a
wad of twenties on the counter, holding her breath.
The money was counted only once, placed in the till, and a pair
of keys were then unceremoniously presented to her.
She was nearly out of here.
“Thank you. Is that it?”
“Uh-huh. Red car parked up front. Have a pleasant day.”
And that was it.
Paige had a car. Under a fake name. Miles and miles outside of
LA.
She rolled her luggage behind her on the way to the parking lot.
She gently placed it in the car and sat behind the wheel. She tried to
be as calm and slow as possible. She didn’t want to draw any
attention to herself.
With a trembling hand, she turned the key into the ignition,
looked around, and just like that, Paige Kirby drove off into the
sunset, disappearing from Hollywood.
CHAPTER THREE
DEV
P aige was stunning even in her disguise — a short blonde wig with a
pair of thick black glasses and a baggy T-shirt.
You can totally do this.
That was the refrain Dev chanted to himself on the flight to
Paige’s chosen destination: Hawaii. If they had flown on a private jet
with a tiny cabin, he wouldn’t have been able to survive.
On a crowded commercial flight, there were too many other
scents. He could focus on other things, like the crying baby in the
seat ahead of him. A baby in first class was a choice. Not one he
would’ve made, but the mother was clearly overwhelmed, nearly
weeping as she tried to calm her baby.
Reaching his patience limit, he leaned forward in his seat. “May
I?” he asked the stranger. “I’ve got lots of nieces and nephews. They
call me the baby whisperer.”
The woman looked up at him, her mouth agape and chin
trembling. “You can help her? She’ll stop crying?”
He shrugged. “I can give it a try. It’ll give you a break, at the
very least. Besides, we’re on a plane. It’s not like I can kidnap her.”
She handed over her screaming child, and Dev tucked her in the
crook of his arms. The baby — Mathilda — looked up at him, her tiny
brown eyes in shock. She didn’t recognize him, but he smiled down
at her.
“You’ve got to stop screaming, little one. You’re hurting yourself.
If you take a deep breath, your ears won’t hurt so much.” He
continued explaining things to her. She was barely four months old
and wouldn’t understand a word he said, but she watched him in
fascination, stuffing her little hands in his beard. She hiccupped from
crying so hard but soon settled. He told her the tale of a nice family
of bears who all took care of each other, walking up and down the
aisle, gently bouncing her.
Baby Mathilda was fast asleep in no time at all. He returned the
sleeping child to her grateful mother. “I was so anxious, I think I
might’ve been stressing her out. Thank you so much.”
He shrugged. “No worries.” He took his seat once more.
Paige turned to stare at him. She blinked at him. “Well?” She
fluttered those eyelashes of hers again. “Are you going to explain to
me what the hell just happened right there?”
He shook his head.
“You just rocked a baby to sleep. You, the big man who has a
beard and a goldfish.”
“Leave Orange Number Two out of this.”
She laughed softly. “You’ve got a gooey center, Dev Weaver.
Before this trip is through, I will get to the core.”
So long as you lap me up.
Ouf. His bear was really going to get him into trouble.
Especially if Paige kept on saying things like that.
By the time they landed and left the plane, Dev was in serious
need of some alone time. Helping baby Mathilda had given him a
reprieve, but driving to their resort in a small cab, just the two of
them, was all too much.
He was tired, and worst of all, he was starving.
He didn’t do well with hunger. Most shifters had a fast
metabolism, but he was a bear. He could eat a whole school of
salmon and polish off a pie-eating contest for dessert. He was that
hungry.
When they finally pulled up to the resort, he audibly sighed in
relief. He jumped out of the car, not waiting for the driver to help
with their bags. He tipped the man generously and sent him on his
way. He rolled their luggage to the counter, barely looking around.
He needed out and away from Paige before he seriously lost
control of his mind.
Paige waltzed up to the counter and flipped her wig’s short hair,
smiling warmly at the clerk.
“Welcome to Rising Sun Resort. How can I help you?”
“We’re Mr. and Mrs. Weaver, here on our honeymoon,” Paige said,
reaching out for him. Her small dainty hand landed on his bicep,
cutting off all air supply to his brain.
“Oh, isn’t that adorable. You two are definitely a beautiful couple.
I sure hope you will enjoy your time here. Make some memorable
moments.”
“I’m sure we will,” Paige cooed. “Isn’t that right, Pookie-Bear?”
Paige reached out and ran her fingers through his beard.
His cock immediately paid attention, not understanding this was
all fake. Before his downstairs situation became a very real problem,
he grabbed her hand down and tucked it behind her back. To the
clerk, it would look like an amorous embrace. In reality, it was pure
self-preservation.
“Follow Jay here to your room. If you need anything, please let
us know. Have a good honeymoon.”
Paige waved to the clerk before Dev led her away. “Was that
entirely necessary?” he grumbled in her ear.
She shivered at the touch of his beard against her cheek, and he
made a note of it.
Don’t touch her with the beard. He’d shave it as soon as he could
if she didn’t like it. Wait. What? Had he really thought that?
He loved his beard. Way more than this woman he barely knew,
mate or not.
Dev followed behind Paige and the bellhop, who escorted them
to their room.
As a matter of fact, it wasn’t a room.
It was a private cottage right by the water with its own personal
dock. There would be no real reason to mingle with the other resort
patrons.
That was probably the point. Paige didn’t want to be recognized,
and no matter how much she called herself Mrs. Weaver, if she
wasn’t careful, someone was bound to recognize her – even with her
wig.
At least, the cottage would be big enough for both of them. They
would keep to their own rooms and limit their time together. He
wouldn’t have to be tortured by the very sight of Paige all day, every
day, for seven fucking days. Dev didn’t know how many hours that
was, but he would do the math and then count them down. He
would count his lucky stars for every one that passed without a
single incident between them.
If you think a bear can keep away from a honeycomb, you’re a
bigger idiot than I thought.
He didn’t know who spoke, him or his bear.
CHAPTER SIX
PAIGE
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