by Sable Sylvan
Jevon started to slide toward the glass pastry case. Patricia had grabbed her weapon of choice, and like a Canadian curler, she was ready to use it to move something heavy across the frikkin’ floor.
“No! Bad bears!” hissed Patricia, poking them with a broom. She swatted Jevon on the butt, and he grunted but moved away from the nice pastry case.
“Patricia! What are you doing?” asked Jennifer, pulling Patricia away from the bears, but Patricia wiggled out of Jennifer’s grasp.
“This ain’t my first rodeo dealing with lumberjacks acting like hormonal frat boys,” said Patricia. “I’m not letting them shatter my pastry case!”
Patricia swatted the bears on the butt. Then, she picked up her broom and lifted it up and slammed it back down on the head of one of the bears — which happened to be Jevon — and the bear paused. She pulled her broom back up and slammed it back down on the head of the other bear — Rufus. The end of the broom fell off the handle and landed between the two bears, who looked at the broom bristles, looked at each other, looked back at the bristles, and then, looked back to Patricia.
“I’ve still got a stick, and I’m not afraid to use it,” said Patricia. “I’m going to go to my office. I’m going to count down from ten. If, by the time I get out here, there are any bears left, so help me, I will have your hides for rugs.”
Patricia walked to her office and started loudly counting down from ten.
Patricia opened the door on two. She was holding a big bundle of neon fabric. There were still two bears.
“One and a half,” said Patricia. She saw the bear fur start to rustle of its own accord and stopped counting.
The two bears shifted back into men — stark naked men. Jennifer averted her eyes from their nudity. The two men kept their eyes locked.
Patricia looked at the two nude shifters in her cafe and smiled to herself. It was just as she’d suspected. Their mate marks were — well, that was going to be something Jennifer would have to learn for herself. Before the two werebears could look down at each other’s chest, she threw two pairs of shorts and two shirts at them. She wasn’t about to let those two bears figure things out — not yet, given that they hadn’t exactly done her any favors by ruining her frikkin’ bakery.
Jevon looked over the shirt. It said ‘BABY BEAR’ in lime green. The shirt was safety orange. The stretchy shorts were hot pink. Both items were one-size fits all — extra-large, and the shorts had an elastic waistband that could be tightened.
Jevon and Rufus quickly got changed and swiftly received two sets of flip-flops to the head — chucked by Patricia, of course. Patricia was a woman who could’ve taken gold at the Port Jameson Chancla Olympics — if such a thing had existed.
“Put those on and stay put. You two aren’t leaving the property,” said Patricia. “I’m calling —”
“Oh no,” whispered Jevon.
“Not — ” started Rufus.
“That’s right,” said Patricia. “I’m calling your bosses.”
Patricia went inside her office and closed the door. Neither Jennifer nor Rufus nor Jevon could hear her conversation — and she didn’t raise her voice. In five minutes, Patricia came back out.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” said Patricia. “Your bosses — they’re coming down the mountain to assess the damages and collect you. Jennifer — congratulations. I’ve managed to work something out with the bosses that will be of benefit to both of us.”
“What’s the deal?” asked Jennifer.
“If I tell you now, I won’t get to watch Jevon and Rufus squirm,” said Patricia. “Now — Rufus, Jevon, you two need to start cleaning up the mess you made. Jennifer — grab some trash bags from the supply closet.”
Jennifer nodded and went into the cleaning supply closet to grab a box of trash bags. She carried them back out to the front of the bakery and gave one to Jevon and one to Rufus.
“Now — here’s what you’re going to do,” said Patricia. “Make yourself a beverage. Take a seat — in one of the chairs that wasn’t smashed to bits. Then…eat two of your muffins, and don’t give Jevon or Rufus a single crumb.”
“Okay,” said Jennifer, confused. She made herself a cup of raspberry tea, grabbed two muffins, and took a seat at one of the wooden tables, in one of the wooden chairs that hadn’t been smashed to bits. She sipped at her tea and did some online shopping while eating the muffin slowly.
Jevon and Rufus’ bears had scented out the muffins since they’d entered the bakery. As Jennifer bit into the muffin, the scent of marionberry muffins grew heavier and made their stomachs roar louder than their bears. Both the men and their bears loved marionberries.
Jevon picked up two halves of a broken leg of a chair next to Jennifer. Staying on his knees, picking up the tiny splinters, he said, “Can I…uh…get just a little bite of that?”
Jennifer looked up from her phone, looked down at Jevon, looked at the yellowish tan muffin dotted with purple berries, and looking back at the bear shifter who was practically begging for her muffin.
She looked over at Rufus, who was watching her — his eyes pointed straight at the muffin.
“Now I see why Patricia made me do this,” said Jennifer. She put the muffin back into her mouth and kept on browsing clothing sites.
Two men stood outside the bakery, having a civilized but heated conversation, and once the conversation settled down, the two men went into the bakery. Jennifer looked up after the bells attached to the front door jingled. The two big bears of the Port Jameson Hills had come down the mountain, and they looked angry.
“Jevon!” roared Darius. “Get up!”
“Rufus!” called Terrence. “Stay down — until that floor is spotless.”
Patricia walked out of the office and leaned against the door frame. “So, you two showed up to take out the trash. Darius, Terrence — I think it’s time we tell your lumberjacks about their punishment.”
“Agreed,” said Darius. Terrence looked at Darius and nodded. Darius nodded back at Terrence.
“You two are going to be helping Patricia here with a special project,” said Darius.
“You two will both be in charge of supplying berries to the bakery,” said Terrence. “More specifically — you’ll be picking and washing and sorting out marionberries grown in the Hemlock Crew marionberry patch.”
“Both of you will do that,” said Darius. “That includes you, Jevon.”
“Nobody’s saying you have to like each other. After all, Grizzlyfir and Hemlock have never…well, gotten along,” said Terrence. “I know — Grizzlyfir, they’re a bunch of jolly yokels, and I’m surprised they know how to swing a damn ax…”
“And of course, Hemlock Crew is stuck up and rude and Terrence and I aren’t exactly drinking buddies,” said Darius. “But — you just can’t go fighting and tearing up bakeries, especially in your shifts.”
“Oliver and Marvin are still up the mountain, but they’ll be down tonight to assess the damage and start working on repairs,” Terrence promised Patricia. “Hemlock’s bringing down our own tools and supplies and lumber. You should be able to open back up tomorrow.”
Darius shot Terrence a look and then looked back at Patricia. “Grizzlyfir is sending down some wooden tables and chairs. John’s working with the boys at Grizzlyfir to make sure you have enough tables and chairs for the bakery, and we’re tossing in some free benches for your garden.”
“Uh-huh,” said Patricia, shaking her head. “You know — you two wouldn’t have to clean these messes up if your bears didn’t fight over bullshizz, but, look — you get this place looking like it did before all this nonsense, and my boss doesn’t need to know shizz. Oh — and those shirts and shorts and flip-flops? You owe me money for those — but I buy them myself, so you gotta make the check out to me.”
“You buy these clothes on purpose?” asked Rufus, still picking up bits off the floor.
“I don’t want naked men running around my bakery,” said Patricia. “On
e — that violates the health code. Two — this is a family business. Now, Darius, Terrence — get your boys out of here before I make you two start putting in the elbow grease too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Terrence and Darius at the same time, before exchanging a look, and then, grabbing their younger lumberjacks by the shoulders and pushing them out the bakery door.
“Thanks for handling that, Patricia,” said Jennifer. “I can’t believe those two boneheads thought fighting over me made sense! You know, before they did all that, I was still considering dating them. Jevon’s this nice, hometown, guy-next-door type, and Rufus, well, he’s got this mysterious side I dig, and they’re both handsome, but…they’re hotheads, and I have enough on my plate.”
“You certainly do,” said Patricia. “And, what you have on your plate is frikkin’ delicious…which is why I hope you don’t quit when I tell you this next thing.”
“What is it?” asked Jennifer, putting a hand on her hip.
“I…told Darius and Terrence that not only did their bears have to pick the berries for the bakery, but, that they had to be supervised while doing it — by you — to make sure that we’re getting the best berries,” said Patricia.
“So, wait — I have to go up the mountain and work with the two guys that just busted up the bakery?” asked Jennifer, quirking a brow.
“I mean, not exactly,” said Patricia. “Technically…they’ll be picking you up here tomorrow at seven.”
“At seven?” asked Jennifer.
“You get here early anyway!” said Patricia. “Plus, it’s not like you have to pick the berries. You just have to supervise them! And — we’re providing the lunches. Trust me, you’ll get all the sandwiches you can eat.”
Jennifer sighed and then, smiled. There were worse things than getting paid to watch some beefcakes pick berries. “Fine — but I’m doing this for the sandwiches.”
“Uh-huh,” said Patricia with a grin. “Sure you are.”
Chapter Six
Jennifer read through the packet again.
The bake-off rules were simple.
The judges would taste test every pastry in every category. Most categories would be judged after the tasting — without participating in a bake-off. Due to time limitations, only the three most popular categories were going to participate in a bake-off. The submissions for the bake-off were all in, and the three bake-off categories had been announced. Counting up the submissions was really a formality, because, for the fifth year in a row, the three most popular groups were muffins, cakes, and pies.
Jennifer gulped. She’d forgotten that the bake-off would require her to bake in front of an audience. That meant that any mess up would reflect poorly on her as well as the whole bakery — no, the whole brand.
She looked over the list of provided tools and ingredients. She could bring any outside tools or ingredients she needed — except for helpers. She had to do all the baking alone on the stage.
Jennifer put the packet down and looked over Jevon and Rufus, who were picking berries at opposite ends of the patch, ignoring each other. She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like Jevon and Rufus would’ve been good helpers anyway — but it was a shame they weren’t even an option. Even though they probably weren’t professional-level bakers — stranger things had happened — they would be eye candy and could do stuff like mix the batter and grab ingredients. Of course, that would require that they all work together, and she knew that would never happen.
Jennifer looked back at the packet and used her pen to note down what ingredients she’d need to bring for her recipe. The provided tools were all standard, and so were the ingredients. Luckily, all perishables, like milk and eggs, were provided to the contestants.
Jennifer’s reading was interrupted for the fifth time that day by a shout. She looked up. Jevon was pushing Rufus back.
“What the heck, bear?” asked Rufus.
“You frikkin’ scratched me — again,” said Jevon.
“I just walked by you,” said Rufus. “If I were going to scratch you, it would be like this.”
Jennifer put the papers down and sighed and rubbed her temples. Every frikkin’ day, it had been the same — the two bears had found petty shit to argue over and fight over, and she’d had to listen. She’d stayed out — and she was still planning on staying out of it, but she’d had enough. She was staying out, but she didn’t have to stay there — she was out.
“Are you two frikkin’ serious?” asked Jennifer. “It’s bad enough I have to come up here to babysit you in this heat, but now, you two are frikkin’ fighting? That’s it — I’m going back to the bakery.”
Jennifer got out of her chair and walked toward the exit to the berry patch.
“Jennifer, wait!” called Jevon.
“No — I’m walking back to the bakery,” said Jennifer. “Don’t follow me. Just pick those berries and drop them off at the bakery. I’m not coming back to this frikkin’ berry patch and having my time wasted. I could be working on my recipe, but you two spend more time fighting than picking the berries. Bye.”
Jennifer walked out of the berry patch. Jevon started to go after her but was held back — not by Rufus, but by a frikkin’ marionberry ‘bush’ that had its thorns in his shirt.
“Told you I didn’t scratch you,” said Rufus with a smirk.
“Whatever — I can’t let her leave,” said Jevon, pulling forward and letting the sturdily supported marionberry bush rip his shirt.
Rufus looked over Jevon. What did Jennifer see in him other than a firm body? Then, he saw it — the thing on Jevon’s chest. Jevon’s mate mark looked dang familiar because it was the same mark Rufus saw in the mirror every morning.
“Jevon, wait,” said Rufus, putting a hand on Jevon’s shoulder.
“What?” asked Jevon, turning. “Don’t blame that one on the marionberry — what?”
Jevon watched as Rufus took off his shirt, and then, everything became clear.
“You mean you…” started Jevon.
“Frikkin’ Fate,” said Rufus. “We have to —”
“— Tell Jennifer, and explain,” said Jevon. “Come on.”
Jennifer was nearly halfway down the mountain when she heard two men calling her name. She didn’t turn around. She knew who they were, and she didn’t care to listen.
“Jennifer! Slow down!” ordered Jevon, slowing to a walk with Rufus.
Jennifer did not reply.
“Jennifer! We need to tell you something!” called Rufus.
Jennifer did not reply.
Jevon and Rufus jogged toward Jennifer. Jennifer quickened her pace.
“Jennifer, we —” started Rufus, reaching Jennifer.
Jennifer kept walking fast, more stony-faced than Mount Rushmore.
“Jennifer, please,” begged Jevon, moving so he was in front of her. Jennifer saw a flash of flesh. She couldn’t believe it. Jevon was frikkin’ shirtless! She turned angrily and crossed her arms.
“You two just won’t take a frikkin’ hint,” said Jennifer. Rufus moved in front of Jennifer, and she shut her eyes.
“I don’t want to see you two,” said Jennifer.
“Then just let us explain,” said Rufus.
Jennifer put her hands on her ears. “I don’t want to hear your voices either. Whatever you have to say, you should’ve said before you chose to fight in the berry patch like a bunch of…of…of animals! Of over-sexed alpha males! I’m tired of the drama and the pettiness. I am going to count to four and open my eyes. If the way for me to walk isn’t clear, I’m going to make my way back to the bakery with my eyes frikkin’ shut and let what happens, happen. Heck — maybe a wild bear might run off with me. At least it would be more civilized than you two. One…two…”
Jevon nodded up the mountain. Rufus shook his head. Jevon shook his head and pointed and started walking. Rufus sighed and followed.
“Three…four,” finished Jennifer. She opened her eyes. There weren’t werebears in front of her.
She turned — the two shifters were walking up the mountain.
She rolled her eyes. She kept walking away, but then she realized she didn’t hear the werebears fighting. She turned. Jevon and Rufus were both shirtless, walking up the mountain, deep in conversation. She turned back to the path down to town. Was she seeing things…or were Jevon and Rufus working together?
She shook her head. There was no frikkin’ way those two had put aside their differences. They were probably just planning a frikkin’ boxing match or something. Were-tigers couldn’t change their stripes, and neither could werebears — although to be fair, they didn’t have stripes, to begin with.
What they did have was mate marks, but Jennifer didn’t think about that.
Chapter Seven
The bell at the front counter of the bakery dinged — twice. Jennifer shook her head. It was frikkin’ Jevon. Jennifer was a professional, and as she had some marionberry muffins in the oven, she went out to the front of the bakery to fulfill his order. Of course, she wanted to chew him out for his part in the other day’s drama.
But then, she saw Jevon wasn’t alone. He was with Rufus.
They were standing at the counter, each holding a bouquet of lavender and wildflowers in front of their chests. On a table in the bakery, one of the new wooden tables from Camp Grizzlyfir’s carpenter, there were three buckets full of berries, sitting on towels to stop them from leaving purple stain marks on the tables.
Jennifer did not care about the berries.
She didn’t care about the bears.
What she cared about was the muffins in the oven, and what she cared about was getting back to them before they burned.
What Jennifer’s animal brain cared about was something else. She wasn’t a shifter, but she was still an animal — a human animal. All animals had animal brains, even humans. The animal part of her brain was the part that made her want pickles at eleven at night. It was the part of her mind that enjoyed the scent of the fresh pine wafting down the mountain during her early morning walk to work.
