Comet Claws (The Twelve Mates Of Christmas Book 5)
Page 16
Holly was about to get up from the table and clear their empty mugs, but Avery stayed her hand.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on break about now?” asked Avery, checking her watch. “It’s good for you to get some fresh air. After all, it keeps your nose sensitive.”
“My nose?” asked Holly, quirking a brow.
“A baker needs a strong palette, and smell is a big component of taste,” retorted Avery, her own nose in the air. “Anyway, you’re going to miss the show if you go in now.”
“What show?” asked Holly.
“Why the one over there,” said Avery, pointing to the lake. “After all, this is the best dang show on The Wreath — and you know a woman like me won’t miss her daytime shows for all the Christmas tea in China.”
“The mischief that goes on with that lumberjack guy and his bears — it’s really as good as a soap opera?” asked Holly.
“Why, of course, it is, and you know I must see my stories live,” joked Avery. “You see that shirtless guy? That must be Krampus’ bitch for the Christmas season.”
Holly peered. She could barely make out two figures on the island. One was sitting on the dock, wearing a red top, and the other seemed to be shirtless. She couldn’t make out his facial features. Holly watched as the shirtless man tried to get an aluminum boat to stay close to the shore as he loaded the boat with what looked like a big black garbage bag.
“And I take it Krampus is the one reading a book on the dock while the shirtless hunk tries to get that boat into the water?” asked Holly.
“Now do you see why I have to see this live every year?” asked Avery. “After all, this is the first time that boy will have rowed across the lake this season.”
Holly watched as the shirtless guy managed to get the boat onto the water. He put two oars into the boat. The guy in red — Krampus, Holly recalled — got into the boat, and the guy put in the trash bag before he got into the boat. Then, before the shirtless guy could get into the boat, the boat started to float away.
“What did you mean about that other guy, by the way?” asked Holly. “About him being Krampus’ bitch?”
“Every year, Krampus gets some big, bad shifter bad boy and whips him into shape, turning him into, well, a more respectable guy,” said Avery. “He works them to the bone. The bad boys get put through the wringer. They have to work as lumberjacks at Camp Kringle, the Christmas tree farm.”
“He does this every year?” asked Holly. “And has he ever failed?”
“I hate to admit it, but, Krampus is good at his job,” admitted Avery. “Each last one of his lumberjacks has found their fated mate by Christmas Day.”
“Wow,” said Holly. “Being a shifter’s fated mate must be nice…but I don’t exactly think that’s in my stars.”
“What do you mean?” asked Avery. “Shifters aren’t your type?”
“I’m not their type,” Holly corrected Avery. “I’ve, uh, had my share of intimate experiences with shifters, but…well, let’s just put it this way. I’ve never been claimed. Guess I’m an ugly duckling or something.”
“Ugly? Girl, no way,” said Avery, looking over her temp worker. “Curvy, however…” Avery raised an eyebrow and made Holly laugh.
The shirtless man ran through the shallow water toward the boat. He climbed in the boat and started rowing hard. Holly was crying with laughter. It was like watching a clown — a hunky clown, with a shift that could tear her to shreds if it so desired, but a clown nonetheless.
Holly watched as the man rowed across the boat. Krampus was reading his book and didn’t help the shirtless man row. When they reached the dock, Krampus disembarked. The shirtless man stood up too quickly and didn’t watch his balance. He caused the boat to capsize in the shallows of The Wreath, the lake’s water soaking him as he fell ass-first onto the icy ground underneath the water. The bundle fell into the water too.
“Wait!” said Avery, but it was too late — Holly had already gotten up from her seat.
Holly made her way down to the shore, where the man had just gotten the boat tied up to the dock.
“Hey, are you okay?” asked Holly, facing the man’s back as he grabbed the bundle out of the boat.
The man turned to face the female voice addressing him. He looked over the girl in front of him — no, not a girl, but a woman. She was curvy, with huge breasts, a thick ass, and a waist that could take a pounding, although it was hidden underneath a giant coat. She had chubby cheeks that he wanted to pinch, cheeks he wished to see flushed pink with arousal for him. Right now, her cheeks were just pink from the cold, but that made him want to take her in.
It had already happened. He hadn’t even been trying to find her, but there she was.
His.
His fated mate.
She’s hot, admitted the reindeer. Don’t let her be a distraction.
Whatever, said the man. I know Fate’s work. This is it. I’ve never felt this before.
Then how come you’re single? asked the reindeer.
I was a damn good matchmaker, said the man. I spent all my time helping others find love.
A matchmaker without a mate? asked the reindeer. Fat chance you’d find anyone that trusted someone like that up here on The Wreath. You ain’t in the big city no more.
“I’m okay now,” said the man, looking over the curvy woman. “You shouldn’t’ve troubled yourself, coming all the way down here to help a sinner dock his boat at your lovely bakery.”
The baker’s mouth nearly hit the floor. She looked at the man — he had mud on his face, splattered over his thick stubble. The stubble covered all of his chin, part of his neck, and went around to his sideburns. It was thick, so thick it nearly looked like a full beard, lain flat, if one didn’t look at it closely.
His hair hit his shoulders. It was deep ashy chocolate brown, the color of the bark of the pine trees underneath the winter sky. It hung in loose wet rivulets around his neck, the water and mud binding the hair into thick locks.
The lumberjack was shirtless. His jeans hung loosely around his muscular legs, held up with a pair of suspenders that went over the man’s naked torso. In the loop of the belt was an ax, big, thick, sharp. Holly swore she could see another shaft in the man’s pants. The man’s chest was glossy — Holly wasn’t sure if it was with sweat or lake water, or a mix of both. He was covering his chest with a large crinkly black plastic bundle.
“It’s no trouble,” said the woman. “Can I help you with that?”
“Rowan doesn’t need help,” called a stern voice.
Holly looked up at the man on the dock and put her hands on her hips.
“Krampus, you’re not my boss — Avery is so I would suggest that you make that the last time you ever try to order me around!” said Holly.
“And were you this sassy before or after Avery had time to influence you?” asked Krampus. “Look, lady, you want to enable a bad boy — that’s on you. But, if I were you, I’d play the long game — and let me discipline your crush into a man worth dating, mating, and, uh…what rhymes with mating? Ice skating?”
“I never said that I —” started Holly, blushing.
That’s when the scent hit Rowan’s nose, an intoxicating scent, one that made his cock harder than the handle of his lumberjack ax.
It was the scent of arousal, and that blush in Holly’s cheek wasn’t just from embarrassment.
Rowan kept the bundle in front of his crotch, hiding his erection with the package.
“Let’s get this to your boss,” said Rowan, leading Holly with one hand around Holly’s waist.
Holly felt Rowan’s firm hand touch her waist and she nearly melted. She almost stumbled, distracted by the fact that this ‘Rowan’ guy had his hand on her body, his firm, steady hand that made her feel safe and protected.
The tree was still covering his chest. Holly wondered what it was hiding. Was it his mate mark? She knew about mate marks. Any hot-blooded woman who spent time around shifters knew about those. The
y were the marks that were supposed to lead shifters to their fated mates. Would a bad boy like Rowan have, say, a pair of handcuffs for a mate mark? Or was he secretly a good guy, with a Christmas angel’s silhouette slapped right on his chest? There was only one way to find out.
Again, Holly nearly tripped herself up as she thought about Rowan’s hot body, a body hotter than freshly baked buns.
“Careful there,” said Rowan. “Wouldn’t want you to have a twisted ankle come Christmas, now, would we?”
The way Rowan said the word ‘come’ made Holly’s insides turn to jelly. They walked up the stairs to the back patio, where Avery had her arms crossed.
“It took you what, fifteen minutes, to forget about my advice?” asked Avery.
“What advice?” asked Holly, as Rowan took his hand off her waist.
“Exactly,” said Avery with a sigh. “Okay, what’s this one called, Krampus?”
“Rowan, Clan Marron’s biggest bad boy problem,” said Krampus. “He’s…different.”
“Different how?” asked Avery, glaring at Krampus. “Does he have a candy cane for a cock or something?”
“No, you’re thinking of last year’s bad boy,” said Krampus sarcastically. “I’ll tell you while they set up the tree.”
“You two can set up in —” started Avery.
“— In the corner with the big stain,” said Krampus, rolling his eyes. “Same place it is every year.”
“You remembered?” asked Avery.
“You won’t let me fuckin’ forget,” said Krampus. “I bring you a tree every year, but it’s that one stain I left that you talk about.”
“A tree? That’s what’s in there?” asked Holly.
“Every year, Krampus delivers me one on the first day of December,” said Avery. “He’ll be coming here, with his ward — the lumberjack — every day for most of the month. His special order is the one you were preparing before you oiled up those buns.”
“Ooh, you know how to oil up buns?” asked Rowan. “I’ll need to get a lesson from you — a private lesson.”
“Damn it, Rowan, set the fuckin’ tree up, and stop flirting with my baker,” barked Avery.
“Excuse me, but I think Krampus is my boss,” said Rowan. “I have to do whatever he asks.”
“The boy’s technically right — the best kind of right,” said Krampus with a smirk. “Rowan — anything Avery asks you to do, you do. Trust me, if you think I’m a total demon…you don’t want to mess with Avery.”
“Sounds like you don’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever Avery’s dishing,” sassed Rowan.
“Boy, if you aren’t in that bakery and setting up that tree in ten seconds, I will make sure you never meet Santana,” roared Avery.
“Alright, alright!” said Rowan. “Holly, honey, would you mind getting the door for me?”
Holly gulped. Had Rowan really just called her ‘honey?’ If there was one thing Holly knew about bears, it was that they loved licking honey.
Holly nodded and opened the door. She showed Rowan into the relatively quiet cafe. The Christmas tree stand was in a corner. Holly moved chairs away while Rowan figured out what to do with the tree.
“What was all that back there, about Santana?” asked Holly.
“He’s Krampus’ boss — I suppose he’s Avery’s boss too,” said Rowan. “He’s the big man in charge.”
“And you have business with him?” asked Holly.
“Not yet, but, I know if I get an audience with him, I can plead my case,” said Rowan.
“Your case?” asked Holly. “Are you out on bail or something?”
“You could say that,” admitted Rowan. “It’s more like parole — for a crime I don’t think I committed.”
“And what crime would that be?” asked Holly. “Do I need to worry about you hiding a body in our dumpster or something?”
“You like a bad boy, don’t you?” asked Rowan, putting the tree down, his eyes locked with Holly’s, before crooking a finger underneath Holly’s chin and using the other hand to brush against Holly’s cheek. “Well, you should be careful, Holly — I’m a real, real bad boy, and now, I’m getting punished for it. I’d rather get punished by you. In your bed. Hard.”
“Fuck,” moaned Holly. “Rowan…I hardly know you.”
“You can get to know me, baby,” said Rowan.
Before Holly could lean in and kiss Rowan, they were interrupted by Avery.
“Holly! Rowan! What do you two think you’re doing?” asked Avery, crossing her arms. “Krampus — this is all your fault! Your bad boy’s corrupting my nice girl!”
“Hey, if you can’t control your bakers, that’s on you, not me,” said Krampus, putting his hands up. “It’s not my job to keep your girls in line.”
“Sorry, Avery,” mumbled Holly. “It was nice to meet you, Rowan.”
Before Rowan could reply, Holly headed back to the back of the bakery. Avery was motioning to the baking area with her thumb, like a hitchhiker.
“Rowan, you may be charming,” said Avery, walking up to Rowan. “But listen to me and listen to me clearly — you will not interfere with bakery business. Every year, I have to deal with drama from the lumberjacks, and every dang year, I end up needing to listen to some poor girl talk about how some bear shifter stood her up on Christmas. You want to flirt with Holly? Fine. But you break her heart? I break your…I don’t know, but I’ll break something!”
“His cock?” asked Krampus.
“Sure, with my rolling pin,” Avery threatened lamely as Krampus left with Rowan. “It’s a marble rolling pin! So you know — watch out!”
Holly took a peek back at Rowan. She had been so distracted by Rowan’s charm and Avery’s bossiness that she hadn’t thought to look at his chest, at his mate mark.
There was on word written across Rowan’s chest.
That word was ‘Naughty,’ and it was written in Valentine’s Day red.
About the Author
I’m Sable Sylvan. The only thing I love more than reading hot paranormal romances is writing down my fantasies and sharing them with readers like you.
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Bear-y Spicy Fairy Tales:
A Small Town Menage Series
Goldilocks And The Three Bear Shifters
Little Red Riding Bears
Three Grizzlies Gruff
The Shifter Princes:
A Fairy Tale Billionaire Series
Shifterella And The Billionaire Bear
Beauty And The Billionaire Bear
Sleeping BBW And The Billionaire Bear
Rapunzel And The Billionaire Bear
Seattle’s Billionaire Bears:
A Fairy Tale Billionaire Series
Rumpled Bear Skin
Blue Bear
The Bear Prince
The Little Bear Maid
The Twelve Dancing Bears:
A Male Entertainer Menage Series
Grizzly Bear Buns
Polar Bear Buns
Black Bear Buns
Cinnamon Bear Buns
Panda Bear Buns
Koala Bear Buns
The Feminine Mesquite:
A Fairy Tale Billionaire Series…
featuring BBWs + BBQ + BDSM
The Cinderella Cook-Off
Beauty And The BBQ
Spicy Beauty
The Matchstick Grill
Little Red Hot Sauce
Fated Mate Speed Date: A Cowboy Series:
The Cinderella
Hoedown
The Rapunzel Rodeo
The Sleeping Beauty Pageant
Beauty And The Bobcats
Little Red Riding Bulls
Three Werewolves Gruff
Bear Buns Denver: A Male Stripper Series:
Mountain Bear Buns
Glacier Bear Buns
Sun Bear Buns
Moon Bear Buns
Spirit Bear Buns
Yeti Bear Buns
The Twelve Mates of Christmas: A Christmas Bad Boys Series
Dasher Claws
Dancer Claws
Prancer Claws
Vixen Claws
Comet Claws
Cupid Claws
Donner Claws
Blitzen Claws
Demon Claws
Daddy Claws
Frosty Claws
Miss Claws
The Twelve Mates of Christmas: The Complete Collection
Find me online:
www.sablesylvan.com
sablesylvan@gmail.com