by Sable Sylvan
“Here,” said Clove. “Hold a plate.”
Abby held up her firm cardboard plate and carefully used another cardboard plate to get the hot dogs off the poker. Doing everything one handed was frikkin’ hard. A staff member took Clove’s poker and brought the pair a single set of plastic utensils.
“Put the plate up,” said Clove. Once Abby had the plate up on the wooden counter surrounding the grill, Clove cut the hot dog into pieces and then put a piece of the hot dog on a fork. He held it up to Abby’s mouth.
“What?” asked Abby.
“Eat it,” said Clove. “You’re hungry.”
Abby opened her mouth and let Clove feed her. It was weird being fed by a man who looked at her like he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted her or just wanted her to go away.
She chewed the food. Although her favorite meat had to be tri-tip, the hot dogs weren’t half bad. In fact, the hot dogs were delicious, not the kind purchased at a supermarket. They’d been purchased at a local butcher shop. The real star was the roasted habanero hot sauce. The sauce still needed some work, but it was close to perfect. Abby had tried the original sauce many times at her grandfather’s barbecues. Even nearly half a year later, Abby still missed him. While she’d been working on her thesis, Alice and Herb had been hard at work perfecting the roasted habanero, mixing together habaneros that they had roasted together with vinegar, paprika, and a plethora of other ingredients. Although Abby and Clove hadn’t worked that winter break because they had to work on their studies, that didn’t mean that they were off the hook for the summer.
The entire Scoville Clan was going to be coming over from Europe to help out at the store. Addison, Cayenne, and Savina would be put at work helping brew and bottle the ‘Special Sauce’ at the store while Alice and Herb tried to crack the recipe. The three youngest siblings would have to do everything from cleaning the store, dealing with customers, and of course, acting as guinea pigs for Alice and Herb. They would even have to handle large orders from restaurants and do some deliveries. It would be hard work, but at the end of the day, everyone would come home and enjoy some delicious food together. This was the one night they had to have fun and kick back before they were put to work.
Abby tried some of the sweet tea. She picked up her cup with her left hand. The tea was a green tea that had a minty kick and also tasted oddly chocolatey.
“Do you like it?” asked Clove.
“Like what?” asked Abby.
“The tea,” said Clove, as he took a bite of hot dog.
“It’s weird,” said Abby. She looked around the backyard. The large wooden structure they were all sitting in, the giant mansion they were facing, the staff that was waiting on them hand and foot, it all seemed like something out of a movie.
“I guess a lot of things are weird now,” said Abby.
“Things…are weird for me, too,” admitted Clove. “I didn’t exactly wake up today expecting for us to be handcuffed.”
“Neither did I,” said Abby with a laugh. “Neither did I.”
Abby, distracted by the sights and sounds of her new life at the Mesquite Manor, wrapped her hand around Clove’s. The hands that were cuffed together were now closer together than ever. The palm of Abby’s right hand was over the back of Clove’s left hand.
The beast in Clove roared. Obviously, this was the perfect time for him to make a move. Clove shut the bear up. No. He had made his move before, and look how that had turned out. He wasn’t about to make things more complicated than they had to be. After all, a beauty like Abby could never go for a man who could barely control his shift, now could she?
Abby felt something harden under her hand. She turned and looked. Clove’s hand was in a white-knuckled fist. She looked up his arm, past his shoulders, to his face. Clove was facing forward, a painful look on his face. His eyes darted to meet hers, and she looked away, taking her hand off his and putting it back on her lap.
Of course, this meant that now, Clove’s hand was over Abby’s thigh. The polar roared, and Clove’s hand closed around Abby’s thigh, cupping the top of her curvy upper leg.
Abby looked down. Why the heck was Clove touching her thigh like that? She could feel his strong shifter hand through the fabric of her clothing. She looked up, into Clove’s eyes, and this time neither of them could break the gaze. Their eyes met, like a predator’s eyes meeting the eyes of its prey…but the question was, who was the predator, and who was the prey?
“Sorry,” said Clove softly.
“It’s fine,” said Abby, turning her head. Clove caught a glimpse of her cheeks turning pink.
“Is it?” asked Clove.
“Huh?” asked Abby, turning. “Did you say something?”
“No, at least nothing important,” lied Clove. “Never mind.” Clove’s polar roared. Was the human really about to try and bottle up his feelings like his older brother and his fiancée were bottling up hot sauce? No frikkin’ way was the polar about to let this happen. Clove turned away, facing his brother. He had to get the bear inside of him to just be quiet. He’d run all the way to America from Europe to escape being controlled by anyone else, but he couldn’t run from his shift. All he could do was distract it and hope that it let his cock stop throbbing with an aching desire for the woman next to him.
Abby was so confused. Had Clove really just touched her, and then gone back to being cold and icy? There was no understanding these polars. All she could do was not let it ruin her night. She slapped a smile on her face and talked to her sister, talking past Clove’s torso, about their past semesters at college, while she awkwardly tried to eat using just her left hand, as the right hand was stuck to Clove’s and she was afraid that if she moved it again, the situation would just get even messier.
Once everyone was done with their hot dogs, it was time to move on to the next course. Of course, there was more meat on the menu. There was barbecued skin-on chicken, and Abby and Clove ate that with their hands. Luckily, there were little bowls of warm lemon water with washcloths for them to use to wash their hands. The barbecued chicken was cooked thoroughly with a smoky taste and of course, it was smothered in smoky barbecue sauce that was both sweet and spicy. Next was barbecue beef short ribs that made everyone a total mess, not just the pair linked by the wrists. Nothing could beat genuine Texas beef.
While their dessert wasn’t barbecued, it was torched. It was time for everyone to finish up their meals with some crème brûlée, which was broiled with a small kitchen blowtorch by the middle-aged member of the staff, a woman whose name Abby kept forgetting (something with an L, perhaps). After enjoying the delicious custard and its caramel crust, it was time for everyone to go back inside, and of course, Abby and Clove were still linked by the wrist.
Chapter Fifteen
Everyone else went to the big home theater set up to watch a movie but when they entered the house, Clove started to walk the other way, and that meant Abigail had to walk with him.
“Come on,” said Abigail, pulling him toward the group.
“No, we’re going upstairs to get these cuffs off,” said Clove.
“They have a key,” said Abigail.
“I can’t stand waiting that long to get away from you,” said Clove.
“Fine, you wanna play like that?” asked Abigail. She stopped walking.
“Come on,” said Clove.
“Make me,” retorted Abigail.
“Fine, maybe I will,” said Clove, and he lifted Abigail up with his other arm, carefully holding her over his shoulder as they walked up the stairs.
“Let me down this instant!” shouted Abigail.
“I will once we get to the room,” said Clove. He walked to their suite and walked them right into the study and put Abigail back down on her feet.
“Ugh, you pig,” said Abigail. “Fine. Let’s get these cuffs off.”
Abigail walked to get her chair and Clove walked with her. Abigail rolled her chair over to Clove’s, and they both sat down.
C
love pulled the hex wrench out of his desk and fiddled with the cuffs.
“It won’t come off that way,” said Abigail.
“What makes you so sure?” asked Clove.
“Because if you can’t even get a woman off, what makes you think you can get cuffs off?” asked Abigail.
“Funny, I don’t remember you saying that at the engagement party,” said Clove, putting the wrench down.
“Oh, you want to talk about the engagement party?” asked Abigail. “Fine. Let’s talk. What kind of a man randomly kisses a girl that they hate?”
“And what kind of a girl lets him kiss her, and takes it to the next level?” asked Clove. “Or are you forgetting about the heavy petting?”
“This is exactly why I try not to talk to you,” said Abigail. “You’re handsome and charming, and then you say things like that. Are you a snake shifter, because you must be awfully flexible to put your foot in your mouth like that.”
“It’s not putting my foot in my mouth if it’s exactly what I want to say,” said Clove. “And speaking of putting things in mouths…”
“Are you forgetting that you had your mouth on my honeypot?” asked Abigail.
“Check the record, sweetheart. You had me in your mouth first,” said Clove.
“I can’t believe I’m stuck with you,” said Abigail with a sigh.
“At least it’s not for long,” said Clove, fiddling with the handcuffs using a pen.
“I’m not talking about this,” said Abigail, lifting up her cuffed hand and making Clove sigh as she ruined his attempt at freeing them. “I’m talking about this.” Abigail motioned around the room with her free hand.
“Well, I’m not leaving, so don’t hold your breath, toots,” said Clove. “This is as much my home as it is yours.”
“Says the Scoville, who has a house of his own and access to whatever experiences that money can buy,” said Abigail. “You could leave right now and be in Kyoto or Johannesburg or London in an instant, and you decided to come here, the one place I can come to study and get away from…”
“Get away from what?” asked Clove.
“It’s none of your business,” said Abigail. There was no way she was going to let the Jason drama and the Clove drama meet, get married, and have a little baby drama.
“Just like what happened that night is apparently none of my business,” said Clove.
“What, you want us to rehash it over and over?” asked Abigail. “You want a frikkin’ play by play? How about a reenactment, Scoville?”
Abigail grabbed Clove’s shoulder and pulled herself closer to him, her lips nearly meeting his before she realized she had let her anger get the best of her.
That wasn’t about to stop Clove.
Instinctively, his bear roared and pushed Clove’s body forward. Clove dropped the pen from his right hand and wrapped an arm around Abigail, pulling her closer to him so that he could feel her ample curves against his firm chest. He bridged the short distance between their lips. A lightning bolt of static, summoned by the hot wet storm brewing between their bodies, shocked them both before their lips met.
Abigail leaned further into the kiss. It was just like how it had been that night. They’d talked, in this very room, and then things had taken a turn for the sexy.
There they’d been. She had been face to face with Clove in private, the one man she was trying to escape that evening, and they had somehow ended up in the same room, together.
“Hey,” said Abigail softly.
“Hey,” said Clove, walking toward Abigail.
“Do you like the room?” asked Abigail, trying to be polite.
“It’s a bit sparse, but…with a bit of good decorating, it should do,” said Clove.
“I agree,” said Abigail. “I’m sure the two of us will come up with a useful purpose for this room.”
“You think you’ll use it for a study?” asked Clove.
“A study? Heck no,” said Abigail. “The last thing I’m going to want to do after college is use this as a study. I graduate next semester. I’m done with studying.”
“Me, too,” admitted Clove, looking around the room. “Maybe this would be a nice library.”
“A library? Don’t you mean closet?” asked Abigail, motioning to Clove’s designer clothes.
“I have a closet. What I don’t have is a library,” said Clove. “It’ll be nice, a little retreat from the rest of the house.”
“I know what you mean,” said Abigail. “I came here to get some air.
“Me, too,” admitted Clove.
“Should I leave you to it?” asked Abigail.
“No,” said Clove, reaching out to Abigail as she started to walk back to her door. “Stay.”
Abigail looked. Was that Clove’s hand on her shoulder? The fact they’d managed to have a pleasant conversation was already something she hadn’t seen coming. Abigail looked from the firm arm and reached up to touch the hand. She couldn’t resist. She turned, and Clove’s hand moved to the bottom of the small of her back.
“I guess I can stay a while,” said Abigail, looking up at Clove before she couldn’t stop herself from leaning up to kiss him.
She felt him stiffen under her touch, for a mere second, and then Clove had taken her. He met her kiss with one of his own, one as pent up and full of longing as the kiss she had unleashed onto him. His lips explored hers as if they were trying to read what she was feeling like a blind man touching a Braille book. Abigail wrapped her arms around him, and Clove had hiked her up onto his waist before he sat down on the plain blue carpeted floor of their suite.
Clove had pulled her up and down, over his shaft, which she had felt bulging under his pants. She wanted it so badly but knew this wasn’t the time or place…but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do other things.
It was like Clove was reading her mind. As Abigail kissed him, he pulled her up onto his torso until she was above his face, and then he turned her so he was underneath her honeypot and she was facing away from him…
And then, as suddenly as it had started…it ended.
Abigail pulled away, touched her lips, and looked up at Clove.
“Did we just…” said Abigail.
“You said it yourself,” said Clove. “A reenactment. That’s all.”
Clove loosened his grip of Abigail’s curves and looked at the handcuff.
“Be quiet,” ordered Clove. “I’m about to try something a bit unorthodox.”
Abigail watched as Clove shifted…but only his hand shifted. The hand grew, his left hand fully shifting into a polar bear’s paw. His entire arm had expanded, but only from the shoulder down, with the top of his arms only slightly non-human, in that they were more muscular looking and there was a small cover of white fur coating his upper arm, like snow along rugged mountaintops. His shirt hadn’t burst into a million pieces, but it had stretched out and looked like a few seams had come undone. The wrist expanded, and for a split second, the cuff was stuck to Clove’s polar arm, but with one last push, it was off, cracking into two separate pieces of metal that were still linked via a chain to Abigail’s wrist.
Clove unshifted his hand, the white fur receding into his body. His face was redder than before, and he was breathing heavily.
“You can ask your sister for the key,” said Clove. “This isn’t my problem anymore.”
With that, Clove got up and left the room, leaving Abigail more confused than she had been before.
Chapter Sixteen
Over the next few days, Clove and Abby kept their distance. Abby poured herself into her work, fueled by her rage. Rage may have been a strong word to use, but she was pissed at Clove. How could he go from hot to cold in an instant? It made no sense to her. They had their meals together, but they were back to making polite, civil conversation, exchanging as few words as possible.
Over one lunch, plans were made to go to Dallas. It was a Quincy tradition to go shopping in Dallas for Christmas. Abby had already brought gifts for he
r family in one of her suitcases, but there were still decorations to buy and presents to get for people in town.
During a lunch of habanero poppers (jalapeño poppers made with habaneros rather than jalapeños, served with the brand new ‘Awesome Sauce’ that Alice and Herb had developed at The Feminine Mesquite) and pork chops, one of the staff came up to Abby.
“Miss Abigail, there’s someone at the door for you,” said the staff member. “A Mr. Able.”
“Able?” asked Abby. “Wait…is this a somewhat medium-height man, around your height, with light brown hair?”
“The very same,” said the staff member. “Were you expecting a visitor today?”
“No,” admitted Abby.
“Abby, you have a guest?” asked Alice.
“More like a pest,” said Abby. “It’s Jason.”
“Frikkin’ Jason is here?” said Addy, standing up angrily. “I ought to go give him a piece of mind!” She slammed her fork to the table. When the usually coolheaded and shy Addy had an outburst, you could be sure it was for a good reason.
“Now, there’s no need for all that,” said Kai. “I say let him stay out there a little, let him freeze…and then, break his frozen heart.”
“Who is Jason?” asked Herb.
“Well, that’s not my story to tell,” admitted Alice. “And maybe it’s not the best story to tell over lunch…”
“No, it’s fine,” said Abigail. “Jason and I go to the same college. We are on and off, ‘on’ when he is bored and needs to get his dick wet, and ‘off’ when it’s spring break…or winter or summer break. I dumped him this year, before fall break. I did it before he had a chance to dump me like a platter of old kitchen scraps to the hogs.”
“And he’s at our door?” asked Herb.
“Yeah, but I am not about to let him ruin my evening, much less my winter break,” said Abigail. “I’ll go tell him where to shove it, and be right back.”
