John (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 4)

by Becca Fanning

  Joey was this guy Mia had the hots for. She’d been pining after him since she met him in college. He was an average looking guy, with average interests and an average job selling insurance or something horrible like that. For some reason, he’d been rebuffing her for months, and she couldn’t take it. The more he rejected her, the more she wanted him. It made no sense: she was actually way out of his league. One night when Mia and I were drunk, I told her I thought he was gay. She looked like she was going to commit suicide.

  Craig was Joey’s friend. Craig was a slob. How he’d managed to get to his mid twenties without someone instructing him on hygiene was beyond me. Why didn’t someone sit him down and tell him that it wasn’t normal to smell like old bread and sour milk? That food stains on clothes were something to be avoided? He also had this horrible neckbeard, a tentacled mass of throat pubes that sometimes snared small birds that got too close.

  “You promised!” Mia said. “You’re going to have a great time. Joey is a great skiier and Craig, well…” She was lost for a compliment. “He’s got money!”

  It was well known that he was a trust fund baby, so he was an adult that got an allowance from his parents. How ambitious. “Let’s just get this done with. With any luck, I’ll slip outside and fall into a coma that lasts 72 hours,” I said.

  “Looks old,” Craig said, getting out of Joey’s SUV. He squinted up at the massive ski lodge in front of us. It had a definite 1970s vibe, but that was part of the charm.

  I stepped out of the SUV, thankful to be free from that shared prison. Halfway through the trip Craig had pulled out tupperware dishes and started eating a three course meal. It blew my mind. Monday could not come soon enough. “It’s not old. It’s classy,” I said. “The newer ones are all poured concrete. They look like Russian gulags. This is actually picturesque.”

  It really was. The massive wood cabin structure was three stories tall. The sloped roof had a few inches of snow stacked on top, and a huge chimney reached up to the heavens. Smoke coming from the chimney signaled how warm and inviting it was inside. Perched on the edge of a steep hill, it must’ve offered an amazing view from the bedrooms.

  “Eh,” Joey said, totally unimpressed. That was a common sentiment for him. Nothing was worth comment or opinion. You’d get stronger emotions from a handful of snow.

  “This place has amazing reviews,” Mia said, pulling her suitcase from the back of the SUV. “I hope it lives up to the hype.” She headed up to the wide double front doors.

  “There’s a mug of hot cider with my name on it in there,” I said. Despite my best effort to stay grumpy, I was quickly warming to this place. I grabbed my suitcase and followed Mia.

  As I stood in the lobby, I was overwhelmed with the awesomeness of the place. There was a huge eight point buck head mounted over the front desk. Off to our right was a lounge with couches and a huge fireplace. To our left ran the halls of guest rooms.

  Bright wood beams ran the length of the building overhead, huge pieces cut from single trees. Hardwood floors were peppered with rugs, giving guests with slushy boots some much needed traction. This place was built to last, and I had to admire that.

  “Not bad,” Joey said, closing the door behind him. That was as close to praise as I’ve ever heard from him.

  The man behind the front desk looked up from some paperwork. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Franklin Hillside. I’m afraid that if you do not have reservations, we can’t accommodate you. We’re fully booked this weekend.”

  Shit. I hadn’t made a reservation. I didn’t even remember agreeing to this trip! “Uhh…” I said.

  “Yes, rooms are under Wainwright and Fisher,” Joey said.

  Shit. Joey and Craig had the reservations. I looked over at Mia and she was doing her best not to look at me. “Hey, can I talk to you?” I said.

  I saw her shoulders slump and that’s when I knew. This had turned into a double date. And if Mia was going to be bunking with Joey, that meant…

  “Our room is upstairs,” Craig said, handing me the key and pointing towards the staircase. He had a glint in his eye, mischievous little fucker.

  “Go get situated, and we’ll all meet in the lounge for drinks in half an hour,” Mia said, fleeing down the hallway with her suitcase. Joey slowly walked after her.

  “Upstairs,” Craig said, motioning with his head.

  I was trapped. Fuck. Sighing, I grabbed my suitcase and walked up the stairs. I felt like a death row inmate being lead to the electric chair.

  Our room was decorated as you’d expect. Bare wood walls, with small paintings hung here and there depicting winter scenes. The windows looked out towards the slopes below.

  It was cozy. Too cozy. A single bed occupied the center of the room. It looked wonderful. High, plush, with an overabundance of pillows.

  “Excellent,” Craig said, coming in behind me. “Just like I specified. They had another bed in here, but I had them take it out.”

  “Of course you did,” I said.

  “Well, there’s no reason we should be cold tonight,” he said, flashing me a grin. A something green was stuck between his teeth, remnants from his car meal.

  I shuddered. “Look, Craig, you’re really nice,” I said, remembering it was always best to build someone up before you tore them down.

  “Say no more, Jessica. You’ll also find that I’m incredibly generous as well. You will not have to pay for your half of the room,” he said, delighted with himself.

  “Well, that is very generous of you, but-“ I said.

  “But nothing,” he said. “It’s settled. You’re my guest,” he said, his arms spread wide, like he was offering his kingdom to me. “Now, let’s go get some drinks. I’m not paying for those, by the way.”

  “Fuck me,” I said under my breath.

  The lounge was packed. The sun was setting outside, and the slopes were clearing out. Ski bunnies mingled with snowboard bros, and everyone was happy to be out of the cold. This is really what they came for, that special socializing you can only get in a log cabin in the winter.

  I found Mia and Joey sitting on a leather love seat next to the matching couch. I couldn’t hear their conversation over the din of the room, but as I approached, their body language spoke volumes. Mia was turned towards Joey, her whole body pivoted unnaturally to face him. Joey was facing straight ahead, not favoring her direction at all.

  “This place is really nice, Mia,” I said. I sat down at the end of the couch, close to Mia so I wouldn’t have to yell too loudly.

  Somewhere behind the bar a glass crashed to the floor. Everyone in the lounge heckled cheerfully.

  “Thanks, Jessica. I think it’s so romantic. Our room has a bear-skin rug!” she said, giving me a look that said she was in for a prime fucking tonight. “Tomorrow, the slopes are going to be fantastic. If I’m in any shape to ski, that is.”

  “I heard a bad snowstorm was blowing in. It might turn into a blizzard at some point,” Craig said, sitting down next to me.

  When I say he sat next to me, I mean he sat so close that the atoms that made up his body were next to the atoms that made up mine. I felt a tiny flick of something and shuddered. His neckbeard had touched me!

  “Ok, that’s it!” I said, getting up to give Craig a piece of my mind.

  “Yes, we’ve gone too long without drinks!” Mia said, jumping up and pulling me towards the bar. She gave me a look that said she understood my plight.

  Up at the bar, we waited for the swamped bartender to notice us. Mia was anxious. Something was on her mind. A little voice in my head spoke up and told me not to ask her, not to get involved.

  “What’s up, Mia? You’ve got something on your mind,” I said. Sometimes I didn’t listen to good advice.

  “Oh Jess,” she said, folding a thin red straw into a small acordian shape. “This place is perfect. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

  “Not really. I mean, sure it’s nice. Perfect for what?” I said, already not liking where this wa
s going.

  “I think Joey likes me, and tonight he’s finally going to be mine,” she said, her eyes wild with delusion.

  “Oh Mia,” I said, legitimately feeling bad for her. I’d been there. We’d all been there. But we’d all been there in grade school and high school. I wanted to tell her to snap out of it and get her shit together. Instead, I lied. “I think you’re right. I think Joey’s going to come around.”

  “Because this place is so perfect,” she said.

  “Sure,” I said, turning to the bartender who was walking over.

  “And with a little bit of help from you, everything will fall into place,” she said, trailing off into almost a whisper.

  “Wait, what?” I said. I felt my temper flare up. That’s when bad things happened.

  “What can I get you ladies?” the nice young man asked us. He wore an impeccable old fashioned bartender outfit.

  “Bourbon. Double. Neat,” I said, slamming a twenty dollar bill onto the bar. I was staring dagger at Mia, who was doing her best looking down the bar away from me.

  The bartender poured the drink and wandered down the bar to help someone else.

  “You were about to explain what you meant by me helping you, Mia,” I said, slamming the shot back. Well bourbon, but it didn’t matter once it was down. “Because I knew you don’t mean what I think you mean.”

  “Jess, please,” she said, turning back to me. She had the biggest doe eyes I’d ever seen. She was on the brink of tears, holding them back with all her might. “I just want a shot at being happy. That’s all.”

  “So take your shot. I give you my blessing and wish you the best,” I said, hopefully putting an end to that.

  “Thanks, Jess. I just needed to know that you support me. Thanks for being a friend,” she said, leaning in to hug me.

  “Of course, Mia,” I said, giving her a hug. I was thankful she didn’t want something else from me.

  If this place was so fancy, why didn’t they have stairs that were straight? Each one I stepped on seemed to skew away from me. Hands held me from behind, pushing me up the stairs. Craig’s gross hands. But these stairs were devilish, and I’d take any help I could get.

  We got up to our door and I dug in my pockets.

  “I’ve got it,” Craig said, putting the key into the knob and turning the handle. Inside the lights were on, which seemed strange.

  I stumbled into the room, the walls shifting like a carnival fun house. I put my hand out to steady myself on a dresser. After a few deep breaths, I sat down in a chair and pulled my suitcase over.

  “I’m just going to freshen up,” Craig said, walking into the bathroom.

  I laughed. Probably too loud. Definitely too loud. Oh well. My suitcase was unzipped. That wasn’t odd: that was alarming. My buzz was killed as I pulled the top open.

  Inside, on top, was my designer leather Bag of Holding. On top of it was a small note:

  Thanks, Jessica. I knew you’d understand.

  “No. No. No!” I said, searching inside my bag for my potion chest. I found it, threw the lid back, and saw a vial was missing. I didn’t need to guess what the potion label said, but what was the potion itself? Shit!

  “What?” Craig said, coming in from the bathroom. He was naked and damp, but not wet. He held a small washcloth in front of his crotch. He’d been taking a birdbath in the sink.

  “I…someone was in my bag!” I said.

  “Yeah. Mia,” he said, nonchalantly. “When we were in the lounge, she asked me for the key to the room.”

  “Why?” I said, beside myself with rage.

  “She didn’t say why. I assume for something like a Tampon? Something gross like that,” he said. The hand holding the washcloth was spending a bit too much time rubbing down there. I could see it was having a very small effect on him. “So, are you ready?”

  “I’ve been looking forward to this all night,” I said, standing up and walking over to him. I saw his shit-eating grin, the way moisture clung to his neckbeard like some kind of carnivorous plant.

  My hand waved in front of his face briefly. “Mizoo pizatto clava,” I said, intoning the notes as I was taught. Invocation was never my strongest suit, but it would do.

  Craig fell asleep and crumpled to the floor, breathing in deeply. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, draping it over his naked body. With that taken care of, I had to go check on Mia.

  I closed the door behind me, hanging the Do Not Disturb placard on the door handle.

  As I made my way down the hall, I tried remembering what potions I had in my chest. How bad could this be? Most were energy mixtures, really no different then drinking a few Redbulls. But there were a few that I did to pass my studies. Dangerous ones. Ones that could change people or make them behave strangely. I hurried.

  In front of their door, I thought that maybe I wasn’t too late. I knocked.

  No answer.

  I put my hand on the handle and closed my eyes. I could feel the tumblers inside the handle, the cool metal different than the warmer air around it. I gave little shoves to the lock, like little suggestions to the tumblers to right themselves. They listened, and the handle turned in my hand.

  As I entered the room, my first instinct was that it was on fire. Without thinking I extended my hand into the room, “Foos Ro Da!” I said, a blast of air slamming forward to extinguish the flames.

  When I saw a hundred tiny flames wink out, I knew they were candles. Damn, Mia, what did you do? I saw them both on the bed, very still. Mia was wearing some skimpy Victoria’s Secret lingerie. Joey was still fully dressed. Two glasses were on the floor next to the bed.

  I leaned over to pick up the glasses. Smelling them, I caught rich notes of lavender. Thank goodness, she’d stolen a sleeping potion! I sat down next to the bed, exhausted. Magic could take a lot out of you. Once I was sure they were both ok, I left the room, locking it behind me as I left.

  I stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water pour down my body, seeping into my sore muscles. There was always a price to be paid for playing with Magic. The more powerful the spell, the higher the price. That’s why practitioners of Witchcraft never changed the world in drastic ways: self-preservation.

  I held my head down and let the steamy water out down my neck, my shoulders. There were other reactions to using Magic as well. Strong emotional responses were part of it as well. Some people felt lonely. Some felt triumphant.

  It made me horny as hell.

  I leaned back against the shower wall, one hand going to my breast. I squeezed the supple flesh, eliciting a moan from my own lips. I needed a man to use me, mount me, fuck me blind and leave without a word. Some broad-chested musclebound gym junky. Someone swinging some meat below the belt.

  He’d come into the shower, find me leaning back, my legs spread open, eager for him. I spun around in the shower, leaning over to present my ass to my imaginary lover. My hand slipped down to my soaking folds, my aching clit screaming for attention.

  He’d press my face against the shower wall, pinning me in place as he brought his stiff prick to my entrance. I cried out as I imagined him sliding into me, burying himself to the hilt, balls deep. My hand worked my pussy furiously, my climax coming on fast.

  My legs quivered as I came, my juices flooding out of me, joining the downpour from the shower. Like a rare orchid blooming only for an instant, I felt warm relief flow through me. The grip of that primal lust loosened itself, allowing me to breath normally as I stood in the shower. I turned the water off and stepped out.

  I was right. The bed was amazing. I lay under the covers, feeling the cool smooth cloth against my drying naked body. I realized that tomorrow, everyone I came here with would be out of commission. A part of me felt sad, that I would be alone, cooped up in this room with Sleeping Ugly.

  But it didn’t have to be that way. Maybe I came out here with the wrong attitude. Maybe I could do things differently. Maybe I could have fun! I was too tired to contemplate this
further, and my eyelids got too heavy to keep them up any longer.

  “Shiiiiiiiiiiit!” I screamed, tearing down the slope on two teetering skis. I instantly regretted everything I’d done that morning, the lies I told to get onto this advanced slope. I was insulted that the ski instructor asked me if I wanted to do the beginner hill. Everyone on that hill was under ten or over eighty.

  A pine tree was coming towards me, way too fast. I was very experienced, I’d told the nice man. So experienced, in fact, that I was considering teaching. “Why did I say that?” I said as I jumped to the left, pine needles slapping me in the face as I barely dodged death.