Bear Fursuits Books 1-4: Bear Fursuits

by Montrose, Isadora

  “Well we’ll be delighted,” said Winnie. Jools nodded agreement.

  “You give me the dates,” said Gabriella whipping out her phone, “And I’ll make sure I can get my boss to give me the time off.” Everyone laughed, because engineering student Gabby had a summer internship at the company Jools worked for, and Jools was her direct supervisor.

  “You’ll get the extra days off,” said Jools sedately, “Without pay, Miss Intern.”

  Gabriella wrinkled her nose and tapped away on her phone as Hannah gave her the dates. “Worth a try,” she said. “Hey! I get to organize the bachelorette party.” Her lovely face was aglow with mischief. “Let’s do it at The Bear Trap.”

  * * *

  “You want a week’s leave twice in a month, Zhadanov?” Colonel Amherst was coldly displeased. “I notice you give the same reason for both. Attending your cousin’s wedding. Got a lot of cousins, Zhadanov?”

  “Sir, with respect, I do, sir. I’m related by marriage to Master Sergeant Jack Enright of the U.S. Marines. He and his twin brother are getting married—two separate weddings—and I’m the Best Man at both of them.”

  “Enright that Marine who snatched all the credit for Operation Thunderclap?” thundered Amherst.

  “Sir, yes, sir, that is correct sir.” Roman stood rigidly to attention. For some reason the old man was in a worse humor than usual.

  “Humph. And he wants you to be his Best Man. Thought that SOB had a bunch of brothers, each one more decorated than the next?”

  “Sir, that is correct, sir. Jack was awarded the Medal of Honor in May. Will is a Navy SEAL—has the Navy Cross. Doug is a Colonel in the Army and has a DSC. Lots of ribbons between them, sir.”

  “And he’s asked you to stand up with him instead of one of his brothers?” Amherst said skeptically.

  “Sir, no, sir. But, with respect, I am still the best man. I’m the only one in the Air Force. “

  “Zhadanov, that one had whiskers on it before your daddy was a twinkle in your granddaddy’s eye.” Amherst signed Roman’s forms still chuckling. “Dismissed.”

  Roman saluted smartly and took his forms gratefully.

  * * *

  Roman stood in civvies looking around the gymnasium of the Wesheno Community Center. It was a shabby space but it had been spruced up with swags of tinsel, bunches of balloons, and a couple of long cheerful banners that read: GOOD LUCK HANNAH AND JACK and CONGRATULATIONS MARTHA AND WILL.

  He sniffed. Someone had used a lot of pine scented cleaner, but had failed to remove the eau de sweat that permeated any much used gym. He didn’t mind. He had spent a lot of time in small town gyms. Of course he was more used to them being set up with bleachers for a basketball game, than with tables and chairs for a party. But come to think of it, his own prom had been held in just such a humble room.

  He looked around interestedly. He was pretty sure that he had been invited primarily to make sure Uncle Vanya behaved himself. He didn’t see other relatives from Hanover, other than Aunt Katrina and Uncle Ed and Uncle Van. Uncle Van was sitting with some grey haired elders and telling them one of his complicated stories. They were hanging on his words looking amused and enthralled. That was fairly typical for folks exposed to Uncle Van.

  Roman was sharing a room with him at the Crane Lake Lodge. He had supervised Uncle Van’s dressing and ensured that he left his trusty flask in the motel room. He had also searched the room for vodka. Not that Uncle Van had a drinking problem exactly, but Wesheno was dry, and Aunt Katy wanted it to remain dry. Roman had found Van’s flask and confiscated it. Van had predictably been put out at the thought of no vodka.

  “How you toast the brides and grooms?” he inquired in a full throated roar that he fondly supposed was a discreet undertone.

  “With punch, or water, or soda pop,” Roman informed him callously.

  “Humph.” But since Vanya had immediately subsided, Roman figured Aunt Katy had already won that war.

  Most of his relatives in Hanover were going to be absent, including Vanya’s daughter Aunt Klara. That was too bad, because he hadn’t seen Klara in months. But he would see his foster mom at the Ukrainian Extravaganza—which he would put money on she was organizing whatever Katrina Enright believed.

  All of the Enright brothers were coming. His three oldest cousins, Sam, Tom, and Doug were triplets. The grooms, Jack and Will, were the youngest. If Sam and Tom had brought all of their babies with them, the place was going to look like a daycare pretty soon.

  Not that Roman minded running herd on a parcel of cubs. He liked kids. Besides weddings were family celebrations, kids ought to be part of that. It was going to be a lovely rehearsal dinner and dance and he was going to have himself a good time tonight, so long as Van held the line.

  The room started to fill up with the locals. They greeted one another and made their way to Katrina and Ed Enright to introduce themselves. Tom and Sam showed up with their wives and kids. Tom’s wife Lucy was enormously, radiantly pregnant. Roman went over to catch up.

  Vanya was entertaining another group of respected elders. Roman was starting to feel underdressed in his chinos and crisp cotton shirt. The Wesheno elders were wearing their most formal clothes. He had saved his dress uniform for the wedding itself.

  The brides made an entrance on the arms of their grooms. Roman hung back as they were mobbed by well-wishers. He hadn’t yet met Hannah or Martha, but he saw now that they were tall, voluptuous women—each one a bear fantasy on long legs. Trust Jack and Will to wind up with beauties.

  After supper—courtesy of the Wesheno Ancestral Bear Clan—he was still keeping an eye on Uncle Vanya. Van was on his best behavior, but he was a difficult bear to predict. His hair might be grey, but his blue eyes were still sharp and clear. He was still tall and broad and his mustaches still soared like the wings of eagles above a mouthful of his own white teeth. He was still a shrewd, vigorous and headstrong old rascal. Roman loved him but he had no illusions.

  Hannah and Jack were escorting her bridesmaids around the room introducing them to the guests. They made slow progress and Roman admired the two tall, young women while he waited for the foursome to get to his table. The closer they got the more alert his own bear became.

  The taller of the two bridesmaids cast the bride in the shade. Her dark hair was piled on her head in an artless arrangement of glossy, chocolate-brown curls that he suspected had taken an expert to arrange. Her magnificent figure was displayed to perfection by her frothy white sundress. She was the same height as Hannah—just a shade shorter than his own six foot.

  “I’d like you to meet my clan sisters, Gabriella and Gwendolyn Malcom,” Hannah told him.

  Jack shook his hand again. “This is my little cousin, Roman,” he told the girls. “On my mom’s side of the family. Captain Roman Zhadanov.”

  A soft plump hand was placed in Roman’s hard masculine one and he shook hands with Gabriella. Up close she was gorgeous. Bright brown eyes looked intelligently at the world from under dark eyebrows. Her rosy lips and high cheekbones emphasized her beauty. Roman felt transfixed. It took all his military training to let go of that electrifying hand and not fall drooling at her feet.

  He shook hands with the little sister, said something complimentary to Hannah and Jack, and watched the little group move off. Now he had two people to track. By the time the elaborate initiation ceremony that the elders had arranged for Hannah and Martha had commenced, he had cut Gabriella Malcom out of the crowd and was feeding her punch.

  They stood together in a darkened corner of the room. Not talking. You couldn’t talk while the elders were chanting and sprinkling their tribal daughters with corn pollen. But he didn’t need to talk while he was in proximity to this enticing bear.

  Across the room his cousins nudged one another and pointed out little Roman guarding Hannah’s bridesmaid. He was oblivious to their amusement. He had found the one woman in the world for him. All he had to do was make sure she thought he was bear enough for her.
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  * * *

  The Wesheno Community Center was as noisy as it had been the night before. Hannah and Martha’s wedding reception was in full swing. Gabriella stepped a shade closer to the grooms’ cousin, Roman. He instantly took a deliberate step backward and widened the gap between them.

  So much for her inner bear. It had been screaming ever since she had been introduced to the handsome Air Force officer. Last night Roman Zhadanov had seemed just as taken with her, but tonight he was reserved and formal.

  She was feeling ultra-feminine and alluring in her blue bridesmaid’s dress. Trust Hannah to pick a style that complemented and enhanced her and Gwen’s curvy shapes. The dresses were totally fabulous. She didn’t know that she would wear ice blue eyelet again, but tonight she knew she looked fantastic.

  Roman was not much taller than her five eleven, which was short for a bear, but above average for a man. He was slighter than his Enright cousins, but his shoulders still filled out his dress uniform in a way her bear thoroughly approved. And although he was a decade younger than Jack and Will, he had an impressive collection of medals beneath his wings and the same modesty about his accomplishments.

  “I don’t really understand your family’s connection to Hannah,” Roman said curiously. “She’s not adopted is she?”

  Gabriella smiled and pretended she hadn’t noticed him step away from her advance. “Not officially. A couple years back, the moms were out in the woods letting their bears run free, when they stumbled on a shifter-cub acting weird. Hannah was having her first shift—she didn’t even know shifters existed let alone that she was one.

  “Nearly got herself shot before the moms found her. Long story short, the moms brought her home and we became her bear clan. Your cousin Jack is one lucky man. Hannah’s a wonderful woman.”

  “Jack’s a good guy,” Roman assured her. “Hannah’s in good hands. Heard he’s going into business with one of your moms.”

  “Yeah. Ma’s a roofer and she figured that if Jack wanted to build log cabins, she had the customer base to get him launched.” She paused. “How are you related to Jack? Your family seems awfully muddled.”

  Roman laughed. “That’s because when Uncle Vanya emigrated he sent for whatever was left of his wives’ families. I’m the great-great-grandnephew of his first wife. Katrina is his sister’s great granddaughter.”

  “That’s impossible,” Gabby laughed with him. “How old does Uncle Vanya say he is? And how many wives?”

  “Uncle Van never tells his age, but he claims he took bear form for twenty years to evade conscription. By the Tzar’s recruiters.”

  “The Tzar!”

  “Yup. And he admits to four wives. I’m just grateful that when my mother’s new husband decided he didn’t want little Roman cluttering up his flat, that Uncle Van insisted my place was with my father’s family.”

  “You were born in Russia?”

  “Ukraine.”

  Gabriella couldn’t figure it out. Roman backed away every time her skirt brushed his pants, but he stood between her and the rest of the males in the Wesheno Community Center gym as if they were a major threat to her womanhood. Which ought to have been annoying, but was making her feel like the sexiest female on the planet.

  Roman kept asking her about her life, about school, about her family. He kept asking her to dance and fetching her punch. And he listened as if her words would save his life. But he kept his distance.

  “Mom,” she complained to Jools Malcom as they walked back to their cabin in the dark, “You know how you always say my bear will let me know when I’ve met my mate. Well she got all riled up as soon as I took a whiff of Roman. But it doesn’t seem like I made the same impression on him.”

  “Hmm. You do know that officers in uniform aren’t allowed to hold hands with a woman, don’t you?”

  “No. I didn’t know that.”

  “No public displays of affection. Hannah warned me in case I thought Jack was being weird today. But we’ll be seeing Roman in Hanover when we go for the other wedding. See what your bear thinks after a month apart,” Jools advised.

  Winnie put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Sweetheart, you’re young yet. You have all the time there is to find a mate.”

  Alone with Jools she explained. “Katrina was telling me that that young man has an understanding with a niece of hers.”

  Jools growled. “With his cousin!”

  “I believe that this Vanessa is Katrina’s niece but no relation to Roman.”

  “Oh. Well if he’s already got a mate, what’s he been up to sniffing around our girl?” Jools snarled.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Bring us in on top of those flares, Zhadanov,” ordered the big SEAL seated next to the helicopter pilot.

  Capt. Roman Zhadanov ignored the command. He had other orders. He was to wait until the pattern of flares was correct. So far, they had been either obscured by the trees, or flat out wrong. Zhadanov didn’t blame his fellow team member for being over eager. The six SEALS they had parachuted into the Columbian jungle had been a week on this mission and getting them out alive with the hostages they had been sent to rescue was starting to look improbable.

  Fowler wasn’t a bad guy. He was just worried about his buddies. So was Roman for that matter. But if the Colombian cartel shot this stealth helicopter out of the night sky it would mean everyone on board would die, guys on the ground would be left dangling, and the U.S. would get a black eye. Not on his watch. Besides he was Air Force and he took no orders from the Navy.

  He peered into the dense rain forest and watched for the open ground where the flares were supposed to originated, while simultaneously keeping an eye on his instrument panel. The big helicopter obeyed him effortlessly. Its specially shaped blades made it almost silent until it was right on top of you. But of course he might accidentally be above the kidnappers’ base camp. Wasn’t as though Special Forces had some official map of this area. They were all relying on intel.

  Bingo. Three flares in the right order. Roman adjusted his flight path and spoke into his headset. “Stage three in effect.”

  The SEAL beside him opened his door. Behind them the two other members of the team double checked the winch and began to lower the basket into which two men could fit. If they pulled up the hostages, the six SEALS on the ground would begin to make their way to someplace that a chopper could land. Roman didn’t care for the plan. But his was not to reason why these particular civilians merited the possible deaths of a dozen Special Forces men.

  Long before the two men had made the cargo bay of the big stealth chopper, Zhadanov had put his bird as high up as he could. Not that a mortar couldn’t blow them out of the sky. But first the bad guys would have to see them. Higher he got, harder this helicopter was for instruments or human eyes to find. Intel was that the Colombians were as well equipped with radar as any official military in the world.

  “Loaded and locked,” growled a voice in his headset. “Subjects on board. We’ll need a medical team on the ground.”

  “Understood.” Roman sent the coded messages out and set his course for the top secret U.S. military base they were headed for. Another routine mission successfully completed for him and this team. It might be another week before they found out whether or not their buddies on the ground had made it out safely. In all likelihood, he was going to be able to take his furlough and head for Hanover on the weekend.

  But, whatever happened, it was fairly certain this was one more top secret operation that the media would never hear about.

  * * *

  She was more beautiful even than he had remembered. She and her sister and little cousin Shelly were wearing the same pretty pale blue dresses they had worn in Wesheno. Of course, Gwen and Shelly didn’t exactly fill out their bridesmaids dresses in the same voluptuous manner Gabriella did.

  He had been thinking about her for a full month. fantasizing really. In person, she was even more gorgeous than memory had made her. Her curves m
ade his palms itch to fondle them.

  Gabriella’s face glowed with happiness for her clan sister Hannah and his cousin Jack. Happiness just brought out the beauty in this lovely woman. Roman glanced down. His pecker was at full alert but his dress uniform obscured that fact. He didn’t seem to have shocked any of the people he had seated anyway. But it was going to be a long, hard evening in full uniform wanting his mate.

  Roman danced with his Aunt Klara, and his Aunt Katrina, with the two brides, Hannah and Martha. He danced with Mrs. Mary Deer from Wesheno who was fulfilling the role of mother-of-the-bride for motherless Martha. He attempted to dance with Jools and Winnie Malcom, but they declined graciously. He danced with little Shelly, and with Gwen, and then he looked around and Gabriella was dancing with Gideon Bascom.