Ginger Bears (Freshly Baked Furry Tails Book 5)

by Sable Sylvan

  “How come you two can work together when it suits you?” asked Ginger, working on rewinding the salvageable parts of spools of ribbon.

  “How does this suit us?” asked James.

  “I don’t know—how does it suit you?” asked Ginger, putting a hand to her hips. “I haven’t a clue how the two of you decide when you’re going to fight and how you two decide you’re going to work together!”

  “Instinct,” said Richard. “I saw you knotted up, and knew I had to do something.”

  “Same,” admitted James. “There was no time to argue with him. We had the same goal.”

  “Guess that’s why we can work together on the site, too,” pondered Richard. “A lot of the other mixed crew teams have fought on the job…”

  “…But, to your credit, you’ve kept things pretty professional,” admitted James.

  “Except for when I left over a misunderstanding,” said Richard.

  “Beats losing your shift and bear-ing out and wrecking the store,” said James with a laugh.

  “Did you just give him a compliment?” asked Ginger.

  “I mean, I gave him credit,” James said pedantically.

  “Same difference,” said Ginger. “Look. I have a theory, and maybe it’s self-centered. I think you two care about making me happy, and that’s why you untied me.”

  “You’re right,” said James. “That is pretty self-centered.”

  “Doesn’t mean you’re not right,”‘ added Richard.

  “If you two can work together to do that…maybe you two can work together to make me happy in other ways,” said Ginger. “Maybe you two could lay off on killing each other.”

  ‘That’s a tall order, little missy,” said Richard. “Guess that’ll have to be an early Christmas present.”

  “Who are you calling little?” asked Ginger, motioning over her plus-size body. “It takes a lot of money to keep this curvy.”

  “Babe, you’re downright tiny compared to us,” said James, crossing his arms. “You’re practically a Christmas elf!”

  Ginger puffed up her cheeks as her face turned red. “You know, my whole point was that you two ought to work together to make me happy!”

  “Yeah, well, if you can’t handle us at our naughtiest, you don’t deserve us at our nicest,” said Richard. Ginger noted to herself that Richard had used the U-word—‘us.’ Did that mean that maybe, there was a chance for the three of them to get along after all?

  Ginger closed up shop and drove back home. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to say the words at the shop. When she got home, she wrote a message up on her cellphone, edited and mulled over it, and deleted it at least a dozen times, and finally, she clicked send.

  Chapter Seven

  On the seventh day of Christmas, Fate sent to Ginger seven orgasms in a row…

  Ginger had taken the risk the night before. Now, it was time to see if the gamble had paid off. Would Richard and James check their cellphones? Well, now that was up to Fate. Ginger had done her part.

  “Hey, Ginger,” said Patricia, walking up to Ginger, who was restocking gingerbread houses. “Guess what?”

  “What?” asked Ginger.

  “Somebody wants to see you,” said Patricia. “It’s a certain werebear.”

  “Well, tell him I’ve already got two werebears after me, and I don’t need a third, thanks,” said Ginger, shelving the kits.

  “I’m actually doing just fine right now, but thank you for your concern,” said a familiar voice. Ginger quickly looked up and hit her head on the shelving. Her boss’s boss, Jasper Dixon, was there. He was a billionaire, but he looked like any other average person from Port Jameson. He was wearing a pair of black work pants with a red and black check shirt, and some black snow boots.

  “Jasper? Hey, sorry about that comment,” said Ginger.

  “Please tell me you don’t talk to the customers like that,” said Jasper.

  “So you want her to lie?” asked Patricia, raising a brow.

  “Well, I came by to have a word with you,” said Jasper. “Do you have a moment?”

  Ginger gulped. Apparently, she was already in frikkin’ trouble. She had just managed to get herself further in trouble by insulting her boss!

  Jasper led Ginger to the storage room.

  “I heard you’ve been giving away product,” said Jasper. “Care to explain yourself?”

  “A homeless woman has been coming in with her kids,” admitted Ginger. “They just asked to use the bathroom, but I saw they were in need, so I gave them the day-olds, and I’ve put them aside for them every day since.”

  “And who is this woman?” asked Jasper.

  “I can’t tell you,” said Ginger.

  “You can’t, or you won’t?” asked Jasper.

  “I won’t because I can’t,” explained Ginger. “I can’t let her get in trouble over this, so, if you have to fire me, fire me. I know what I did is something that could get me fired elsewhere.”

  “You’re not fired, and nobody is in trouble,” Jasper assured her. “Bear Claw Bakery tries to give back whenever it can. That’s why my wife and I pay the tab for those in need—when you charge things to ‘Artemis.’”

  “That’s you two?” asked Ginger.

  “That’s right,” said Jasper. “My mate’s name is Artemis, and we try to give back, however we can. My concern is there’s a family in this town in real need this holiday season. They shouldn’t have to eat frikkin’ day olds to get by. “

  “Her name’s Ivy,” said Ginger. “She’s staying at a shelter in town with her three kids— two boys and a girl.”

  “And?” asked Jasper.

  “And…well, her husband passed, and since then, she’s been taking care of their kids,” said Ginger. “She doesn’t know where to go, who to turn to. Family’s offered to take the kids in, but they’d all have to split up. I know she has family down in Nevada, but getting the gas money to even get there, that’s beyond her means. I was thinking about taking up a collection or something, but I know I can’t do that on the premises.”

  “Is there a way I could meet her?” asked Jasper. “I’d like to know more about her situation so I could help her out.”

  “They’re probably coming in later today,” said Ginger.

  “I have to be in Seattle for a meeting tonight, or I’d stay and meet her,” said Jasper, looking around the storage room. Something caught his eye and sparked an idea. It was a gingerbread house kit. He picked it up and looked at it, turning it over in his hands.

  “Uh…?” prompted Ginger.

  “Tell Patricia I’m taking one of these with me,” said Jasper, looking over the kit. “Heck, I’m taking a whole box.” He grabbed a whole box of gingerbread house kits and carried it out the storage room.

  “What’re you going to do with those?” asked Ginger, following behind Jasper.

  “I’m going to figure out a way to save Ivy’s family for Christmas,” promised Jasper. “And, I might just eat a few of these kits while doing it.”

  Jasper left the store. Patricia came up to Ginger. “Did Jasper just leave the store with a frikkin’ box of gingerbread house kits?”

  “Yeah, and he said to—” started Ginger.

  “Put it on his tab?” asked Patricia, raising a brow.

  “Yeah, how did you guess?” asked Ginger.

  “Trust me—when that bear gets an idea into his head, he does something about it, and I guess this year, Jasper’s trying to play Santa,” said Patricia. “He’s got a big wallet, but a bigger heart, and that heart’s gotten him to where he is today.”

  James and Richard came into the store around closing time to stash their cash box and other supplies in the storage room. The heavy folding table was kept outdoors. They helped Ginger clean up, and yes—they’d gotten Ginger’s message, but were playing it cool.

  “So…” started James.

  “So?” asked Ginger.

  “So…” started Richard.

  “So I th
ink I have something to say to you guys,” said Ginger, turning the kitchen lights off but keeping the Christmas lights in the window display on for the night, to bring a bit of Christmas cheer to passersby. “The other day, on the mountain…I couldn’t say what I wanted to say to you about why I chased after you two.”

  Ginger looked out the window. As always, there were some groups outside, walking the Port Jameson streets. Her eyes fell on a group of young people walking, laughing, enjoying hot cocoa—probably from Bear Claw Bakery’s other location, on Main Street.

  Ginger turned back to James and Richard. “I was worried about the two of you fighting because I was scared you’d hurt each other.”

  “Over that?” asked Richard. “That was just a shifter fight. It was nothing. A spat.”

  “It was really nothing serious,” James assured Ginger. “That’s just how we are.”

  “But I can’t have that, and I don’t want that,” said Ginger. “I like you—I like you both. But what I don’t want is the part of you that resorts to using paws and claws instead of using your words. I know you two don’t think you can share me. I know your mate marks are different. I’m not a shifter. I don’t get why you have to fight instead of work things out like, well, like men!”

  Ginger looked between James and Richard. “I may not be a shifter…but I believe in Fate. I believe that the three of us, we are fated, fated to be a ménage, a trio, whatever you want to call it.”

  “But you just said that our marks are different,” said Richard. “You know that means we can’t be in a ménage, right?”

  “I know that’s not usually how things go, but true love—it isn’t a thing you encounter usually,” insisted Ginger. “It’s something you find once in a lifetime, or, if you’re like me—you might just be lucky enough to find it twice.”

  “Are you saying you love us?” asked James.

  “No,” admitted Ginger. “I know I can’t know that yet. It’s too soon. But, what I do know is, I feel a connection to the two of you, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. So, I think we owe it to ourselves to give this crazy thing a shot.”

  “This just sounds like a way for you to get us to give you a threesome,” joked Richard.

  “How do you know this connection is so special?” asked James.

  “If I tell you, you’re going to run for the hills,” groaned Ginger.

  “Try me,” challenged James.

  “Before I met the two of you…well, I never really had a ‘thing’ for gingers, and I still don’t, but on the two of you…it just works,” admitted Ginger, her cheeks ripening.

  “Only thing that makes me want to do is tear off those pants,” said Richard.

  “Well, so…in the text, I told you I had a romantic evening planned for all three of us, right?” asked Ginger. “I…well, I’m not a shifter, but I asked around, and apparently, mating cabins are a thing rich shifters have to claim their mates. I guess some rental company has mating cabins you can rent out for the holidays.”

  “So you are serious about this,” said James. “Color me surprised. Here I was, thinking Richard was right, and you just wanted a threesome.”

  “Really?” asked Ginger, quirking a brow.

  “Absolutely not,” said James, taking Ginger by the hand. “So, are we ready to have a very, very Merry Christmas?”

  James and Richard exited and waited on the porch, right by the front door, while Ginger quickly grabbed her things and then, she locked up the front door.

  “Wait,” said James. “You’re forgetting one thing.” James pointed up. There was a little sprig of holly, with glossy red berries and spiky green leaves, right underneath the tiny golden bell that jingled whenever customers walked in the door. Ginger had never noticed that right above the holly, like a Christmas angel on top of a tree, there was another plant—mistletoe, with soft green leaves and white berries.

  Ginger looked between James and Richard. It was like that first day she’d met them all over again. Once again, she felt like she was falling—for them.

  She pulled James and Richard close and gave each a peck on the cheek. She took the fact they didn’t rip each other to shreds to be a great show of progress.

  But then, James grabbed her ample ass in his hands and lifted her up. She felt lips press against her neck, but the lips weren’t James’—they were Richard’s! Richard groped her ample breast while James leaned in to kiss Ginger. This mistletoe kiss was more naughty than nice! The two ginger bears were less ‘sugar’ and more ‘spice!’

  And that was just what Ginger wanted.

  Richard’s bear told Richard to pay attention to the signs of arousal on his mate’s body. Her cheeks were becoming flush with red, not from being nipped by the winter wind, but from the intense heat of the situation. James’ bear ordered him to take in Ginger’s natural musk, a sure sign that the woman needed to be claimed, needed it just as James needed to claim her.

  James and Richard were both getting prepared for their long slumber by accumulating fat to cover their stomachs during hibernation. They knew there was more than one way to stay warm during the winter.

  Everyone got into James’ modest SUV. They drove up the mountain, found the private road with the mating cabin, and parked outside. The cabin was the size of a small house. The house had plain white icicle Christmas lights hung along the edge of the roof. The lights were on and twinkling.

  “Bet rich boy here has one of these somewhere,” mused Richard.

  “I’m not rich,” insisted James.

  “Uh-huh, sure,” said Richard, rolling his eyes. “What, your parents are only millionaires, instead of billionaires?”

  “I’m adopted. But, my adoptive parents passed when I was young. My adoptive sister, who was already in her late teens, took care of me. Eventually, my biological grandfather found me. He wanted me to be different than my bio-parents—two partying shifters with an expensive and deadly drug habit. He wants to make sure I don’t end up spoiled, like them, so he’s making me work for shit.”

  “Damn,” said Richard, shaking his head. “Dude, I’m…it was messed up for me to say what I said.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said James. “You know, Dick, you’ve really earned your nickname.”

  “Yeah, Dick,” said Ginger. “You’re such an asshole, you should be part of Hemlock Crew.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay,” said Richard, blushing. “Sorry, James. I shouldn’t’ve made assumptions…especially given my parents are dentists.”

  “Oh, so you’re the frikkin’ rich boy?” asked James. “Maybe one of your parents should’ve become a therapist to help you deal with your projection issues.”

  “Boys, boys!” ordered Ginger. “Look. We’re so close to figuring out if this is fated, if the three of us are meant to be together, forever. Are you really going to let a misunderstanding break that up? Because if so, we have no hope. No relationship is perfect, but we all have to learn to get along, to work through things together, as a team, if we have any chance of lasting.”

  “I’m sorry,” said James. “It’s…it’s a sore topic for me.”

  “Hey, I should’ve been more sensitive, man,” said Richard.

  “Now, if you two are done hugging it out, are we going to get to the making out?” asked Ginger.

  James pulled Ginger up off the ground. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Richard walked ahead of them and followed the instructions on the rental email that Ginger had forwarded them all. He got the front door unlocked and turned on the first light switch, which didn’t turn on the main lights, but instead, turned on a set of Christmas lights!

  Ginger looked up at James’ face. Her curves jiggled as James carried her roughly to the cabin. He wasn’t looking down at her, but rather, straight forward. She could feel the heat off of his body, turning the air around them into a steamy bubble. His grip on her body was firm. She felt his fingers dig into her butt. She felt both safe and aroused. James carried her
past the threshold, and she nuzzled up to his shoulder, prepared to be put down, but James wasn’t done with her yet.

  Richard shut the door behind James. James carried her to the bed in the center of the mating cabin. The cabin was made by a shifter for a particular purpose, and it was obvious that purpose was mating. The soft Christmas lighting was all the light James and Richard needed.

  James immediately started unbuttoning his shirt. Richard came over and ran his hands over Ginger’s soft curves. Ginger pressed her hands against the flannel sheets to sit herself up, but Richard pushed her back down.

  “Allow us,” said Richard.

  “What? I can’t undress myself?” asked Ginger.

  “You need to conserve your energy,” ordered Richard. “Let us do all the heavy lifting.”

  Ginger raised a brow. “What makes you so sure you two have the energy to do all the hard work?”

  Richard slapped his stomach. “We’ve got all this fat stored for the winter.”

  Ginger smacked her thighs. “I’ve got this fat stored for all dang year.”

  “I guess you’re going to need it for when you touch yourself all winter once we enter hibernation,” said Richard. “Don’t get too skinny while we’re gone, or we’ll have to fatten those curves back up.”

  “You like’m big,” said Ginger.

  “Of course we do,” said Richard. “We need’m big. Thick. Juicy. Curvy. Plush.”

  “That wasn’t a question,” demurred Ginger, running her hands over her thick curves. She ran the palms of her hands over the tops of her bosom and dipped them down to the soft areas between her breasts and her ample stomach. She ran past the stomach rolls, as luxurious as the spirals formed by a piping bag’s specialized tip as it dolloped marshmallow cream onto cupcakes. She ran her hands over her hips, grabbing herself where she’d want to be grasped, digging her nails into the fat of her butt, her thighs.

  Suddenly, she was on her stomach! Another set of hands was on her butt, feeling it through her thick winter jeans.