Bear Fursuits Books 1-4: Bear Fursuits

by Montrose, Isadora

  In desperation, Hannah summoned Winnie and Jools. It was no use. Katrina hugged them and thanked them for taking care of her son’s mate. She co-opted them within ten minutes. Somehow Hannah found herself being tucked tenderly into the front seat of Will’s SUV by Winnie, while Jools put her bags in the hatch. Katrina hopped into the back. Winnie and Jools wore identical grins as Will pulled away from the curb.

  It was two and a half hours to Hanover and Katrina remembered many more things she needed to tell Hannah about Jack. Her words rolled over a suddenly exhausted Hannah whose eyes were closing. She slept. Katrina smiled knowingly and closed her own eyes. Kidnapping was tiring work.

  CHAPTER NINE

  JACK TOSSED THE CORNER of the white fitted sheet to his father and together they made up the king sized bed in the sleeping loft of his house.

  “What I don’t get,” said Ed to his son, “Is why you didn’t tell her your real name.”

  “Well, I was undercover, Pop,” Jack explained patiently. “I was in Seattle to create a background for Jack Enright. The CIA convinced the brass it would add a layer of deniability if I was caught. I could claim to be a U.S. mercenary with a sketchy past who just happened to have taken a contract with the Uzbekistan mob, and leave the Corps out of it altogether. I couldn’t know my mate was going to waltz into The Bear Trap.”

  Ed shook his head. He grabbed the white top sheet and opened it with a flourish of his long arms. Together they tucked it in and spread Jack’s red and grey striped woolen blanket over it. They turned the edge of the sheet down over the top of the blanket and stuffed pillows into the white pillowcases.

  Ed shook his head again. “It’s rough,” he said. “This is no bridal bower, son. You need to go shopping.”

  It looked fine to Jack. Between Uzbekistan, where a lumpy, stained mattress and a thin blanket of some no name fiber were luxuries, and the narrow cot provided by the embassy, and the unprepossessing bed at the motel, to say nothing of the bunk at the Sanctuary, his bed looked palatial and smelled of nothing but sunshine and fresh air. He pressed down on the firm mattress approvingly. “Huh? What do you mean?” he asked.

  Ed looked at the sleeping room dispassionately. The squared sides of the kiln dried logs the house was built out of were visible in this room. As was the chinking. The big windows were curtainless and looked out over the deck. Beyond the deck was a woodlot. Pretty at this time of year. On the horizon the Kittitas stretched green and leafy as far as the eye could see. The view was killer.

  When the sun came up it would shine on the bed. But the bed was made of smoothed and polished logs. It was chunky and rustic like the tables, which were slabs of burl oak on tripods made of branches with the bark on. There was a closet. But no mirror, no dresser. A flat screen TV the size of a billboard hung on one wall.

  “It’s not a room for a woman,” he told his son. “Your mate won’t like it. What’s her bedroom like?”

  “Um, it’s pink and white. Sort of flowy curtains around the bed.” Until I ripped them down. “Real girlie. Couple of white dressers, these white bedside tables with drawers and cupboards to hide everything.” He trailed off uncertainly. No flat screen. Lots of prints on the wall. Curtains at the windows. Cushions on the bed. His mind wandered as he recalled putting a fat pink and white striped bolster under Hannah’s hips.

  “You need to ask your mother. This is kind of bare. What’s the rest of Hannah’s place like?”

  Jack grimaced. “She has sort of bitty designer furniture. White leather couch. Glass tables. Dinky, stiff chairs with hardly any room to sit.”

  “You see? You gotta go shopping. You ask your mom. Ask your mate. Let her buy stuff online,” his father advised him.

  “I’m not living with glass and steel.”

  “Son, is this woman your life-mate?” his father inquired.

  “Of course.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Ed looked pointedly at the room and then back to Jack. “Tell me again, why’re you limping, son?” he asked.

  Jack looked around at the simple spaciousness of the sleeping loft he and Will had designed as a tree house. He imagined Hannah’s elegant white makeup table in the corner, and filmy drapes covering up his view. He winced. Well shoot and damn. He was going to have to sit his sorry bear ass on whatever skimpy, designer delight she picked out and look like he was enjoying it.

  Ed’s cell rang and he took it out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Hello,” he barked. “Yes,” he said, “I have to go into the office for a bit, but Jack should be around when you get here. Drive safe.” He turned to Jack. That was Will, they’re in Midway getting gas.”

  Jack bounded down the stairs to the great room. He whistled and two black and tan coon hounds hopped off the big navy couch leaving dog hair smeared across the corduroy cushions. Ed looked at the dogs and shook his head. “What are those dogs doing in here?” he asked.

  Jack stared at him. “Ebb and Flow live here,” he said as the big dogs jumped and frisked beside his legs. “I picked them up from Sam yesterday.”

  “You have a lot to learn about women, son.”

  * * *

  Hannah looked around the Enright’s big, noisy kitchen trying to sort out who was who. Jack’s brothers looked like him and were hard to tell apart. Two of them were sitting at the harvest table with him, while another sat with the twelve kids at a table set crosswise to the first. Katrina and two tall, voluptuous blondes bustled about putting more and more food on the tables. Hannah tried to work out which one was Millie and which Lucy.

  Ed held court at the top of the harvest table. Sam sat at the head of the kids’ table calling across to his father and brothers. The kitchen echoed with laugher and conversation. Hannah sat nervously watching, trying to figure out the unspoken family rules, as she had done so many times in a new foster home.

  She had been placed on Ed’s right with Will on her left. Tom and Jack sat opposite. Someone’s long bare food ran down her bare shin. She glared at Jack before tucking both her legs under her chair as far as they would go. Ed opened the two bottles of wine before him and poured some into Jack’s glass.

  “Pass the jug of water,” he instructed Jack and filled Hannah’s glass. He beamed and silently toasted her with his wine before taking a sip. Great, everyone knew she was pregnant. Hannah’s face flamed.

  Katrina triumphantly placed a massive pork roast in front of her husband as Millie or Lucy—Hannah still had Tom and Sam’s wives muddled—put an identical one before Sam. Ed and Sam picked up their carving knives and began to slice meat. When everyone had a heaping plate of roast pork and vegetables before them and the applesauce was being passed, Ed nodded and the family tucked in.

  Hannah had finally figured out that the pregnant woman in the red tunic was Lucy and that she was married to Tom. Millie was wearing a blue and green blouse and was Sam’s wife, and the mother of two sets of twins, and two sets of triplets. Hannah had not yet sorted out which of the twelve those were. Lucy was celebrating that her recent ultrasound had found only two babies while Katrina and Millie rocked with laughter.

  “When the babies come,” said Katrina. “What you do if there’s three? You give one to the doctor?”

  “Mom’s right,” said Millie. “With both sets of trips they told me for sure it was twins again. I think they can’t count to three at the Midway clinic.”

  Lucy rubbed her great mound and looked at Hannah. “Are you a twin?” she asked politely.

  Hannah blushed. “I don’t think so, but I don’t know. My mother gave me up when I was a baby. Or maybe was made to. I don’t know. No one ever mentioned if I had a twin,” she trailed off.

  “Where are you from?” Will asked urgently in her right ear.

  “Wisconsin. I grew up in Milwaukee, and went to school in Madison.”

  “Oh.” Abruptly Will lost interest and returned to demolishing his dinner and taunting his brothers.

  Ed came to his feet he
held his glass in his hand. Silence fell. “This is a celebration,” he said jovially. “Our son has been returned to us. And he has found his mate. Welcome to our family, Hannah.” He raised his glass. There was a chorus of ‘Welcome, Hannah’s’ and everyone drank. Hannah smiled shyly and looked at her plate.

  Katrina noticed her embarrassment and said, “Ed, you give our new daughter some more meat. Tom you pass her the bread.” With a flurry the family rushed to press green beans and carrots and butter to Hannah.

  When she attempted to rise to help clear the table, Katrina waved her back. “Tomorrow you help. Tonight you let these useless boys do the work.” As one, her sons got up and began to clear plates and put the leftovers away. Katrina nodded with satisfaction. “When is clean, you bring the pies,” she instructed.

  “Millie made chocolate, and Lucy made lemon meringue and apple,” she told Hannah proudly. “If those lummoxes make the coffee,” she continued, “We send these little ones into the living room to play and Jack can tell us why for he was two years away.”

  Will ostentatiously pressed a button on the huge stainless steel coffee maker on the countertop. Beside him, Jack’s heart fell, but he thumped his twin on his upper arm and handed him a sponge.

  Hannah could hear nine of the grandkids playing some raucous game before the unlit fireplace. Three two year olds had been removed from their high chairs and sat sleepily on various laps. Jack cradled little Harriet against his blue plaid shirt. The tiny girl had a forefinger in her rosebud mouth as she drifted off. Hannah swallowed the lump in her throat.

  Jack held his coffee mug away from his little niece and drank awkwardly to avoid spilling on her. His deep voice was pitched low so that the children in the living room would not hear. The other adults huddled closer to hear.

  “Colonel Harrison selected me for the mission because he thought a fellow shifter would have an edge. It was too bad that Leskov was a tiger and made me the first day. We had no idea--it’s not as though the CIA would have known or put it in a report if they suspected.” The other men nodded.

  “I managed to get a couple of reports out before Leskov caught me. After that, Leskov kept me under lock down unless he needed me. He didn’t know that I was spying, but he didn’t trust anyone and especially not a Ukrainian bear.”

  “Leskov didn’t do second chances so I had no opportunity to escape. Then last June, the Russian bosses told him to take a shipment into Kyrgyzstan. It was a crazy idea to transport Uzbek munitions in stolen army trucks across the border. And heroin from Afghanistan. Leskov didn’t like it, but he had no choice.

  “Long story short, I took him out in the mountains. He wounded me and I had to shift and hide in the mountains. When I healed up the locals had found the clothes and money and ID I had buried. So there I was with the choice of trying to wander through the mountain pastures as a bear, with every shepherd in Uzbekistan taking potshots at me, or trying to do it as a buck naked man.

  “I swam down the Pskem river at night as a bear, until I reached a settlement where someone had left some clothes hanging out overnight. They didn’t fit and they were mostly rags, but at least I wasn’t actually naked.”

  Ed cleared his throat and adjusted Amanda on his lap. There was a large wet patch on his denim shirt where she had drooled on him. “Go on, son,” he urged hoarsely.

  Jack shrugged. “I worked my way back to Tashkent. It took a while because I was in bad condition after hibernating in the mountains. Not much work in Uzbekistan for big Ukrainian strangers. I wound up working for food mostly. When I did get some money, I bought better clothes. But I still couldn’t ride on the trains or buses because I had no papers.

  “It was January when I got to the U.S. embassy. Turned out that no one was prepared for me to come back from the dead. While I was scoping out the Uzbek mob and figuring out their relationship to the Uzbekistan Army, the U.S.A. had decided the Uzbeks were allies after all and started to sell them armored vehicles.” He shook his head in disbelief.

  “Nobody wanted to hear that the Uzbek mob and army were in bed together. My Intel was sort of embarrassing for everyone.”

  “Homeland Security and the CIA acted like I was some freelance terrorist instead of their agent. Even when they finally put me on a plane home, they sent me to Washington, D.C. for more debriefing, if you want to call it that. Took six weeks before they let me call home and let me have leave.” He looked at Hannah with so much raw lust that she blushed again and looked away.

  “Colonel Harrison pretty much told me that I would have to resign once my leave was up. Then there was some sort of leak, and the brass had to spin the story for the press. Suddenly I’m a fu--um--first rate hero with a medal.”

  Tom stood up. “Trust you to land on your feet, Jack. Lucy, you’re ready to crash. Will, Jack, give us a hand to load these guys into the van.

  “Mom, that was a great meal. Pop, I’ll catch you at the mill tomorrow.”

  There was a general bustle as Sam and Millie decided they should also get going. The children were rounded up and packed into their parents’ cars. The Enrights all lived in the same compound, but their houses were widely separated. Like most bears the Enrights liked being part of a tight clan, but they also liked privacy.

  Will shook his twin’s hand and gave him a manly back-pounding embrace before leaping into his SUV and driving off. Jack wandered back into the house to collect his mate.

  “Hannah has gone to bed,” Katrina told him serenely. “In her condition, a woman needs her sleep. Tomorrow, we will come look at your house and you can fix it so she will marry you.”

  * * *

  Ed was sitting up against the pillows. His big muscular arms were folded behind his head in a way that emphasized his bare chest. The thick black hair that curled there was barely grey, and the muscles beneath it were still hard slabs. He narrowed his grey eyes as Katrina came out of the master bath swathed in a red flannel gown that covered her from collarbones to ankles. Little white sprigs danced on the fabric as she turned out the lights and got into bed. Her long braid bobbed around the yoke of the night gown.

  “What the hell is this?” Ed growled into his wife’s ear, grabbing handfuls of flannel.

  “You were expecting maybe silk?” demanded Katrina. “In May with the furnace off?”

  “Silk sounds nice,” Ed rumbled behind her ear before kissing her there and lapping the back of her earlobe. He pulled up flannel until he could get his hands on Katrina’s rump which he smoothed with his big hands. “And here we are. All the silk any man could want.” He kneaded his wife’s bottom until she turned to him and put her hands on his chest and dug her fingers thorough the hair to find his brown nipples.

  He turned away slightly and fiddled with something on the side table. The smell of roses filled the air. Ed turned back to Katrina and kissed her open mouth, while his slick palms massaged her ripe rump and moved between her thighs to oil the tender inner flesh of her plump thighs and soft folds between them. He ran his fingers through the rich fluff on her mound.

  Katrina giggled and wiggled closer. “You are going to smell like a rose bush,” she warned him in a throaty whisper. He scooped her closer so her muff rubbed against his rampant cock. “I am going to smell like your rose bush,” he rumbled as he rocked her against his erection. Katrina giggled again.

  Ed moved to cover her. He slid himself into her waiting passage and found it wet and slick and ready for him. Together they moved into the oldest dance that never got old. The rich scent of his mate’s desire mingled with the aroma of attar of roses and filled the bedroom. Together they rocked to completion.

  Afterwards they lay spooned together, silently enjoying each other’s company. Ed kissed the nape of his wife’s neck. “I don’t get it he said sleepily, “After all the time those two have been apart, why’d you make Hannah sleep here?”

  Katrina chuckled. “That boy has had it too easy. He needs to work for his mate. She needs him to court her a little.”

&n
bsp; “Thirty months in Uzbekistan is having it too easy!”

  “That was hard. But hard on Hannah too. All her life that girl has searched for someone to love her. She has much love to give. So she meets Jack and he lies to her. He don’t bring her to his family. He just disappear. Then he comes back and bam he gets back in her bed. No ‘I’m sorry’, no flowers, no nothing.

  “He needs to treat her good. I promise her my son treat her good. So I put in Jack’s bed so she can sleep where it smell of him. But him I send where there is only dogs.

  “He is smart boy. He will figure out how to win Hannah. Then they can be married and Hannah can know he love her and is not just because already she is pregnant. Now you go to sleep. Tomorrow we make Jack show Hannah how he take care of her.”

  “You are an evil woman.” Ed laughed into his wife’s braid.

  Down the hall, in what had been Jack and Will’s bedroom, Hannah lay sleepless on one of the twin beds, her hands covering her ears as the sound of rhythmic squeaking carried down the hall.

  * * *

  It had been three days since Will and his mom had brought Hannah back to Hanover. Three evenings of being invited to supper and having his conversations with his mate chaperoned by his parents. Three days of his parents acting like Hannah was all their Christmases come at once. Which was all very well and good, but how was he to get his mate alone to make things right with her?

  Katrina had led Hannah over the log house of which he was so proud. She had pointed out all the ways in which it fell short of the ideal. The kitchen was poorly laid out, the fridge was old and the oven was inadequate, and the kitchen had no pantry. As if it hadn’t been Mom’s idea to sell him her old fridge and stove when she bought her new appliances. As if he couldn’t build a pantry if Hannah wanted one.

  But Mom rambled on like she had some other house to sell Hannah. Or some other son. Like he hadn’t noticed Will staring at Hannah as if she wasn’t his sister but a potential mate. Mom went on: there was no dining room, as if the Enrights didn’t prefer eating in their kitchens. There was dog hair on the couch and armchairs in the living room and dog nose prints on the glass sliders to the main floor deck. Well, okay, Pop had warned him, but he hadn’t remembered when he was cleaning.