by Sable Sylvan
It was the part of her brain that had made her moist for Rufus and Jevon, the primal part that wanted them inside her, pumping away, hot and hard, causing her to shout aloud using her animal brain and her very luscious human mouth.
That part didn’t care about the fact there were two handsome bears at the bakery, both looking to see her, both holding flowers.
They were both standing there shirtless.
That’s what the animal part of her brain cared about. She felt her cheeks pinken as she couldn’t help but flick her eyes over Jevon and Rufus. They looked good shirtless. They looked even better together, like something out of a very wet dream.
However, Jennifer’s animal brain did not care about the shirtless bears. It cared about the muffins.
“What the heck are you two doing here?” asked Jennifer. “You know what? I don’t care. Welcome to Bear Claw Bakery. What can I get you?”
“Jennifer, I —” started Rufus, but Jevon put a gentle hand on his arm and squeezed it.
“We’ll take three of those raspberry thumbprint cookies,” said Jevon.
Jennifer grabbed a paper bag and a piece of parchment. “Great. Do these three look good?” She motioned to three of the thumbprints near the back.
“Sure,” said Rufus, still confused. Jevon nodded down to the bouquet and then put it down at his side. Rufus followed suit.
“That’ll be a dollar,” said Jennifer, standing up with the bag of cookies.
She nearly dropped the bag of cookies on the floor when she saw that not only were Rufus and Jevon frikkin’ shirtless, but their mate marks weren’t covered by anything. Now that the bouquets were at their sides, their mate marks were plain as day for anyone to see.
“Are those your…your…” started Jennifer. “No. No way. This is a prank.
“You can touch them,” said Rufus. “They’re real. This is what we were trying to tell you the other day.”
“My shirt ripped, and we realized we matched,” said Jevon. “Means the both of us are meant to share a mate — and we think that mate is you.”
“After all, look at the mark,” said Rufus. “Do you know anyone else here making muffins?”
“Th-that’s what that is?” asked Jennifer, blushing. “I thought they were chef’s hats or mushrooms!”
“They’re muffins alright,” said Jevon. “There’s this one curvy, thick, juicy woman in Port Jameson obsessed with muffins — and that’s the muffin woman who lives on Drury Lane. She’s the only woman either of us want. Now, here’s the question — will you be our muffin?”
“You want to share my muffin top?” asked Jennifer, putting the bag of cookies down on the counter and taking a dollar from Rufus, ringing Jevon and Rufus up while listening to them.
“Well, it’s certainly a big muffin top,” said Rufus. “I think Jevon and I will both be very, very satisfied by your muffin top.”
“And you really want to share?” asked Jennifer.
“To tell you the truth — no, not really,” said Jevon. “Neither of us saw it turning out this way. We don’t like sharing — with anyone. We certainly don’t want to share our mates — with anyone. We don’t exactly like each other much.”
“So, what makes you think you two are going to be able to put your differences aside for me?” asked Jennifer.
“There’s a lot of you to share,” said Rufus. “You’re worth the effort, Jennifer — worth more than a trio of thumbprints. Now, will you give these two, stupid bears another chance?”
The animal part of her brain blurted out, “Yes. Yes. Absolutely.”
Chapter Eight
Jevon and Rufus had picked up Jennifer every day after work for the last week to get to know her better and prove they weren’t going to bite each other’s heads off. While Jevon and Rufus still argued, Jennifer also argued with Jevon, and she also argued with Rufus. They didn’t get along perfectly, but that was okay. They disagreed on things, from where to get dinner, to what movie to watch, but they became friends.
One night, Jevon and Rufus picked Jennifer up after work — right from the bakery. They walked her home, and after she dropped off her bag, they headed to the backyard for dinner. Jevon and Rufus had been carrying a basket and a bundle of fabric. It wasn’t hard to guess what they had planned for the night — a picnic.
Jevon lay out the blanket, an old patchwork quilt that looked like it’d seen many picnics, and Rufus put the basket down after helping Jennifer take her seat.
“You know, you two are lucky I wore pants today,” said Jennifer.
“Why?” asked Rufus.
“Because otherwise, you might see all my…well, lady bits,” said Jennifer, blushing.
“Then I think we were unlucky that you wore pants today,” said Jevon.
Jennifer’s cheeks reddened even more deeply. “Oh, stop.”
“If you insist,” said Rufus cheekily. He opened the picnic basket and brought out a bottle of expensive wine. He had a corkscrew on his pocketknife and started to uncork the bottle.
“You went over the budget,” said Jevon. “I said twenty bucks!”
“That wine costs more than twenty bucks?” asked Jennifer.
“I haven’t seen it in the sale section,” said Jevon.
“Look — I found it in the Hemlock Lodge basement,” said Rufus.
“You mean the wine cellar?” asked Jennifer, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay — yes, technically, a wine cellar,” said Rufus.
“That like a booze basement?” asked Jevon.
“A what now?” asked Rufus.
“A booze basement — basement where you store your booze,” said Jevon. “You know — your beer kegs, your beer cups, your beer pong tables, and beer pong balls…a lot of beer related stuff. Beer-aphanalia.”
“Yeah, I guess a wine cellar’s like a booze basement,” said Jennifer, rolling her eyes. “Have you really never heard of a wine cellar before?”
“Of course, I know what a wine cellar is,” said Jevon, quirking a brow. “I was making a joke, smart one.”
“Hur-hur,” said Jennifer sarcastically. “What was this about a twenty-dollar limit? I didn’t bring anything to the picnic.”
“The view you provided is certainly worth at least twenty bucks,” said Jevon, who wasn’t looking at the looming Port Jameson hills, that stood dark against a bright and clear summer night sky. He was looking over a different set of hills, ones that seemed to glow with an inner light, at least, when he looked at her with his heart. Jennifer was a big woman — real big, real curvy, and real sassy.
She could be a smartass, but at least she had a thick ass.
And, soft kissable lips — lips he hadn’t kissed yet.
Rufus saw Jevon checking out Jennifer and started to get jealous. His bear baited him on, but Rufus retained self-control. He’d talked things out with Jevon. They’d agreed they wouldn’t cockblock each other — but promises were easier to make than keep, even for werebears.
“I agree,” said Rufus, looking over Jennifer. “You…really do provide quite the view.”
“What, is my cleavage showing?” asked Jennifer, looking down at her chest, and inadvertently squeezing her elbows together. Her arms were at either side of her chest, so this made her bosom — which did indeed have cleavage showing — squish together and push up.
Rufus and Jevon were different in many ways.
At that moment, they were the same, in that they had hard, throbbing presences in their pants due to the little show Jennifer was putting on.
“Yes — but so what?” asked Jevon.
“Jevon…what did you put in this basket?” asked Rufus.
“Uh…so I can’t exactly cook, so I had Alex make us a dinner to go,” said Jevon shyly.
“Please tell me it’s not the turkey dinner Alex made y’all weeks ago,” said Jennifer.
“No — but I don’t exactly know what he packed up,” said Jevon.
Rufus pulled out a plastic container and opened it. �
�Okay — cornbread, and it smells frikkin’ fantastic.” He pulled out another container that had something white and lumpy with bits of green and brown.
“Bacon potato salad, with chives,” said Jevon, taking out the next container. “Oh — barbecue ribs. Messy.”
“Carrot sticks, sliced bell peppers, celery sticks, and cucumber?” asked Rufus.
“And ranch dip — he’s always trying to get us to eat more vegetables,” said Jevon, rolling his eyes. “I never eat this crap.”
“Me neither,” admitted Rufus.
“Oh — more for me,” said Jennifer. “I love veggies and dip! It’s like having chips for dinner, but healthier.”
“You like raw veggies?” asked Rufus. “Uh…I didn’t see that they were raw before. They look great. I’ll have them with you!” Rufus was quickly backtracking to try and impress Jennifer — over raw frikkin’ veggies and ranch.
“I don’t like veggies, but I should eat healthier,” said Jevon. “They say it helps with…”
“Helps with what?” asked Jennifer.
Jevon’s cheeks burned as he remembered what he’d been told about eating lots of fresh fruit and veggies. “Uh, nothing.”
“Eyesight? At night?” offer Rufus, dipping a carrot stick into the ranch.
“Yeah,” said Jevon. “Yeah, that.”
“Good, because I could’ve sworn that I heard someone say that they help with your cum,” said Rufus nonchalantly, dipping a piece of celery into the ranch, extending the celery toward Jennifer, who went to take it, but found Rufus pushing it toward her mouth. Her cheeks pinkened once more as she ate the vegetable, and then they deepened further when she realized what Rufus had just said.
Fresh fruits and vegetables were supposed to help with taste, ‘down there?’
She’d also heard the same thing about yogurt — which she had for breakfast daily.
Still, she was sure that Rufus and Jevon would probably taste about as salty as the ranch in her mouth…but they’d be creamier, and much harder than the celery in her mouth.
Since when had crudités made her think so crudely? Was there something magic in the ranch?
The dinner wasn’t particularly special. It was the company. Rufus poured three plastic cups of wine and passed them around.
“To…the benefits of healthy eating,” said Rufus plainly.
“To…carrots,” said Jevon.
“To not frikkin’ fighting over bullshizz, and to Fate giving you two the same birthmark,” said Jennifer, clinking cups with Jevon and Rufus. “Cheers!”
The three tapped cups at the same time and took their sips.
“You know, mate marks, they’re not birthmarks,” said Jevon.
“They’re not?” asked Jennifer.
“No — they show up when we turn eighteen, like, I think ninety-percent of the time — same time our shift shows up,” explained Rufus.
“So, what do you do until they show up?” asked Jennifer. “You don’t know if you’re a shifter?”
“I always knew,” said Jevon. “I was just counting down the days — and frankly, it wasn’t a stressor for me. I think my grandpa was the first shifter in my family. My dad’s a bear too. I knew my parents would love me no matter what happened.”
“They would?” asked Rufus with a chuckle. “Wait — you’re serious?”
“Of course — they don’t exactly like that I decided to be a lumberjack, instead of going to medical school, but ‘tis the life,” said Jevon, swirling his wine. “They probably care more about that than the whole shifter thing, to tell you the truth.”
“I thought unconditional love was a fairy tale, like Santa Claus, Paul Bunyan, or need-blind admissions,” admitted Rufus, raising a brow.
“Wait — you could’ve gone to medical school?” asked Jennifer.
“Yeah — but it turned out that the entrance exams made me miserable, and I didn’t have a passion for it,” said Jevon. “I didn’t want to be a doctor that didn’t care about his work. If I have an off day as a lumberjack, it’s okay. I can take a day off. I can do some easier work. If I have an off day as a doctor, well…somebody could get hurt, or worse.”
“But your parents still support you?” asked Rufus.
“Absolutely — although technically, I’m the one supporting them, sending money back home,” admitted Jevon.
“Jevon, I had no idea about any of that,” admitted Jennifer.
“Look. It’s really no big, and I don’t like to focus on it — although I’m fine talking ‘bout it,” said Jevon. “I am happy with this life. I’m happier than a bear in a berry patch. It’s a life I chose — and I know I’m lucky because lots of the fellows at Grizzlyfir don’t have a backup.”
“Why did you choose to be a lumberjack?” asked Jennifer. “Like, why that, and not…like, a fisherman or a forest ranger or something?”
“You must be psychic or some shizz because I did consider both those jobs,” said Jevon with a chuckle. “I tried out lumberjack shizz one summer in college and liked it a lot. I liked being outside, smelling nature, and chopping shizz down, doing stuff with my bare hands…and with my bear hands. I like living somewhere I can go shift anytime — like when you and I went berry hunting.”
“Berry stealing,” corrected Rufus. “My father was furious when he heard about that.”
“Why did your dad hear about it?” asked Jennifer, with a furrowed brow.
“Because he went to Hemlock Crew too,” said Rufus. “Went to? Attended? I don’t know the right term.”
“So, your dad’s a lumberjack too?” asked Jevon.
“No — he’s a hedge fund manager in New York City,” said Rufus.
“He went from being a lumberjack to being a finance guy? That’s amazing,” said Jennifer. “Real rags-to-riches story.”
“Uh…not exactly,” said Rufus. “His dad, yes, but my dad no.”
“What’re we missing here?” asked Jevon.
“Hemlock Crew has been around since my grandpa’s time,” explained Rufus. “Back then, it was just some guys from Port Jameson working for a lumber company, but then, well, they decided they were going to work hard and help each other out — be a big family.”
“Like…mafia family?” asked Jevon in a hushed tone.
“No, Jevon — like a shifter clan,” said Rufus, rolling his eyes. “They’ve all got their own clans and families, but, they decided that no matter what, they’d support each other. As they got older, they left Port Jameson, moved to cities, other states, and raised their families, but they were always there for each other. Their kids were the next generation of Hemlock Crew. They were sent to Port Jameson. They saw what it was like for their dads.”
“And now…you’re here, to see what it was like for your dad too,” said Jennifer.
“I know my father thinks I’m here to prove something to him, but I’m really here because of my grandfather,” said Rufus. “My dad…all he cares about is money, and so did I, before I came out here. I still care about it more than I care to admit.”
“It sucks not to have money,” said Jevon, shrugging his shoulders.
“It does — but what sucks more is losing your way,” said Rufus. “My grandpa would tell me stories about his time in Hemlock Crew — running up and down the mountains with his band of bears. I was so worried that I wouldn’t end up being a bear shifter…but when that mate mark showed up, well, I told my grandpa I wanted to spend time with Hemlock Crew. My father cosigned that — but he sees it as a networking thing. Me? I’m here to follow my grandpa’s pawprints.”
“Huh, neat,” said Jennifer, eating a piece of cornbread. Rufus sipped some wine. Jennifer turned to Jevon, who was oddly quiet. A single manly tear was dripping down his cheek.
“Jevon…are you crying?” asked Jennifer.
“It’s just…so beautiful,” said Jevon. “Being a bear…your grandpa…damn, I was wrong about Hemlock Crew.”
“Hey — don’t get soft on me now,” ordered Rufus jokingly
. “Plus, that doesn’t mean the rest of Hemlock Crew isn’t made up of a bunch of rich bastards.”
Jennifer took another piece of cornbread and ate it while Rufus and Jevon talked about silly bear shifter stuff. If they were becoming friends, that worked for her. She wasn’t really listening to their conversation. She knew that was rude. She just cared more about watching them joke with each other and talk like pals, rather than enemies. As she scooped some potato salad into her mouth — taking the spoonfuls with extra bacon and chives as it looked like Rufus and Jevon’s mouths were busy — she looked up at the sky. She was used to seeing clear skies back home in Fallowedirt, Texas. The thought made her think of two more things.
First of all, were her friends back home in Fallowedirt watching the same sky she was watching? There was a time zone difference, but it should’ve been dark for her friends back home, just as it was dark for her in Port Jameson, Oregon.
Secondly…with every passing day, Jennifer felt less like someone who had left Fallowedirt, and more like someone who had made a new home in Port Jameson. The revelation was bittersweet. She loved her old town, her old friends, but she’d moved for a reason. She wanted to write her own story, find her own heroes, and she had.
Jennifer had some wine and tried to keep track of the stories as the trio ate and, when she lost the conversation thread, looked back up in the sky — which no longer looked like the sky from home. It seemed brighter — the stars bright pinpoints of light in a dark blue sky so deep it was nearly jet. There was no familiar golden glow reaching up from the earth toward the moon like a shifter’s mark glowing toward its mate.
But, there was a strange glow — a glow of green with stripes of blue and violet, or was it blue with streaks of green and violet? The light seemed to be dancing. If Jennifer had been wearing glasses, this is the part where she would’ve taken them off to clean them, in case an oily smudge on her glass was causing some kind of psychedelic iridescent lens flare.
But, Jennifer did not wear glasses.
“Hey,” said Jennifer, who had been scanning the skies while Rufus and Jevon had their bear-to-bear conversation. “Is there something in the wine or am I seeing things or what? Is, uh…the sky supposed to be on fire?”
