Bear Treble (Highland Brothers 4) Read Free

yourself into other people’s houses?” He felt the shuddering under his chest. He could barely steady his bear. It was a battle of wills beneath his skin.
    He’d seen pictures of Layla before, probably hundreds if he was honest. And hell, he’d always thought she was a pretty woman, but standing in front of her he was thrown by how gorgeous she was in person. Her hair was layered in thick auburn waves, and though he wasn’t much for makeup, her skin was flawless. The lines around her eyes made the green stand out. She had the most lush, kissable lips he’d ever seen.
    She was known for her powerful voice. For her heart-wrenching ballads that spoke to people’s souls. She had been called the voice of the century. Her songs had enough rock to keep her on the pop charts, and so much soul you’d never forget them. But all he could think about was how fucking sexy she looked standing in the foyer. She was killing him with her curves.
    “I’m only here to make sure this album is perfect.” Her hands sank at her hips. He suppressed an immediate growl.
    “I don’t work with other writers. I do things on my own.” He dropped the bags in front of the staircase.
    “Doesn’t seem to be working for you.” She smirked.
    He knew he could kiss that look right off her face. He could make her head spin. But he closed his eyes instead.
    “You know this won’t work.” His dark brown eyes met her gaze.
    “Of course it will. We’ve already worked together, just not in the same place at the same time.”
    Dylan rolled his eyes. “I wrote songs. You recorded them. That’s not exactly the definition of a working relationship.”
    He watched as she struggled to pull her first suitcase up the stairs. It was obvious she never carried her own luggage.
    “Hold on. Give me that.” He took the bag from her grasp, and his breath caught when he felt the softness of her hand.
    Layla moved to the side of the staircase. “Thank you. They are a little heavy I guess.”
    “I’ll leave them at the top of the stairs.”
    He left her waiting while he delivered the bags to the upper landing. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
    Layla smiled up at him. “You made that look easy.”
    He shook his head. “Nah. I life weights, that’s all.” He hesitated. “I was about to make something to eat for dinner. Are you hungry?”
    Her shoulders relaxed. “Actually, yeah. I’d love to eat.”
    “That’s something we can agree on. Come on. Kitchen’s this way.”
    She followed him through the house.
    “Wow. This place is impressive.” She gawked at the chef’s kitchen Dylan’s cousins had designed.
    “My cousin Crawford did most of the remodel work.” He opened the fridge, trying to think of something he could fix them to eat.
    “I should have him look at my beach house. It needs some help.”
    His eyebrows rose. “What beach?”
    “It’s on the East Coast.”
    “Not California?” He pulled bacon from one of the trays.
    She shook her head, her curls dusting over her shoulders. “I’m not an LA girl.”
    “Shocking,” he murmured.
    “Hey, I’m not all Hollywood. Just because you think you know who I am, doesn’t mean you do.” Her eyes set on him in determination.
    He raised his hands. “You’re right. Sorry.” He pulled a frying pan from the cabinet. “Looks like BLTs for dinner. That alright?”
    “Mmm. Sounds better than the stupid cardboard my trainer makes me eat.” She slumped into one of the barstools, kicking her high heels to the floor.
    “Don’t tell me you’re on one of those stupid celebrity diets.” He turned the gas on low.
    “You and I both know there’s no one else in the music business with my shape.”
    He jerked around. “Or your voice.”
    She smiled. “Right. The voice. Well, I’m supposed to have the body to go with the voice. Thus, the trainer.”
    Dylan layered the bacon on the bottom of the pan. “Don’t listen to them. You’re beautiful.” He froze, his hand mid-air with a