Ginger Bears (Freshly Baked Furry Tails Book 5)

by Sable Sylvan

  “Alright, I’m just gonna say it,” said Ginger. “There’s no toaster oven, is there?”

  “I don’t know,” said James, crossing his arms and smirking. “Open that box. Maybe we got you a really tiny toaster oven, glove-box sized.”

  Ginger opened the box. Inside, there was tissue paper, just a few sheets, in red, gold, and green. Inside that box was another cardboard box—but she couldn’t get it out!

  “Ugh, can I get some help?” asked Ginger, passing the box to Richard.

  “Of course,” said Richard. He took the box and undid its cardboard seams. He turned the box inside out, so the sides and top of the box were down and at the sides of his hand. On his outstretched palm was another cardboard box, glued to the ‘bottom’ of the disassembled cardboard box.

  “Am I going to need an electron microscope to see the next one?” asked Ginger.

  “No, but you might need one to operate the very tiny toaster oven,” joked Richard.

  Ginger opened the box gingerly. Technically, any time that Ginger opened a box, it was ‘Gingerly,’ but this time, it was especially so. Richard was on his knee, holding the box, and James was kneeling next to him. It was easy for a gal’s heart and mind to race in tandem, but golly darn it, she knew that it couldn’t be what she’d hoped it was. It was probably just a tiny frikkin’ toaster oven, for a dollhouse or something.

  Ginger gulped and pulled the lid of the final box open. Inside, she saw a brown wooden box.

  James pulled the tiny brown wooden box out of the cardboard. He opened it, and when Ginger saw what was inside, she nearly fainted.

  Inside was the one thing she wanted for Christmas, the one thing she’d thought she wouldn’t get, the one thing she’d let herself believe in and in the same breath, told herself it was silly to wish for.

  There was a gold band, with a mass of yellow diamonds in the center. Above the pave diamonds, there were three round red rubies, brilliant cut, and around them, forming spiky leaves, were an array of emeralds in various cuts—taper baguette, marquise, octagon, and of course, emerald cut. The gold diamonds formed the shape of a bell, and, above them, in red and green, was a sprig of holly—just like the mate mark on James and Richard’s chests.

  Ginger knew what it was, but still, had to over rationalize it. After all, the ring was colorful. Maybe it was costume jewelry, or a ‘just because’ gift, or just a Christmas gift that wasn’t meant to have another meaning at all.

  “Will you marry us?” asked Richard bluntly.

  “Yes,” blurted out Ginger, before Richard had even finished the word ‘us.’ “Of course. Absolutely.”

  “Will you marry us?” asked James a second after Richard.

  “Yes, yes, I will,” said Ginger. James took the ring and slipped the ring onto Ginger’s finger. “I had this whole speech in my head, about what I’d say if you two proposed, and…I forgot it.”

  “We had a speech about what we’d say to you when we proposed, and well, I forgot my part,” admitted James. “Richard?”

  “Forget the speeches,” said Richard. “That’s not what love is about. Ginger, we love you…and you have to admit, the bit with the toaster oven box was hilarious.”

  “You two gave me a frikkin’ heart attack!” admitted Ginger. “Here’s what I want to know—how did you two pull it off?”

  “That’s the first thing you want to talk about as a newly engaged woman?” asked James. “You want to know what we did about some dinky boxes?”

  “What would you suggest I do?” asked Ginger. “Oh, gosh—what should I do? I’ve never been engaged before!”

  Richard laughed and passed Ginger her cell phone, which had been on an end table. “If I were you, I’d make some calls.”

  “Calls?” asked Ginger. A lightbulb practically popped up over her head. “Of course! I have so many people I have to call…starting with one very special person.”

  “Really? You’re calling your boss first?” asked James.

  “If she didn’t do such a bad job spotting me at the bakery, maybe I wouldn’t’ve fallen for you two,” sassed Ginger.

  “Baby, you absolutely would’ve,” said Richard.

  “And what makes you so sure?” asked Ginger.

  James took her hand and put it over Richard’s heart. “Because this is Fated.”

  Ginger wasn’t running from Fate any more—and she’d ended up with her handsome ginger bear men.

  “Dude, where have you been?” hissed Terrence, a whipped cream mustache over his actual mustache.

  “Frikkin’ putting my boys to bed,” said Darius, who was munching on a ham sandwich from Camp Grizzlyfir. Usually, outside food wasn’t allowed at Bear Claw Bakery, but it wasn’t a rule Patricia enforced very often. “I swear, it’s like some of those bears have never hibernated before. These lumberjacks better not be cross come spring.”

  “I’d say send them back to their daddies to have them deal with them, but…well, I’ll give Grizzlyfir this,” conceded Terrence. “You don’t have spoiled rich boys to deal with.”

  “You don’t like them either?” asked Darius.

  “Not until I whip them into shape, but are we here to talk about these frikkin’ cubs, or are we here to talk about our mate?” asked Terrence.

  “Keep it down, or she might hear,” hissed Darius.

  “Then take a damn seat and listen up,” said Terrence. “Have you come up with a decision yet?”

  “I’m willing to work with you,” said Darius. “That’s why I’m here, aren’t I? Fate’s pushed us together. I know better than to argue with Fate. That’s one arm-wrestling match my bear can’t win.”

  “Good,” said Terrence, not bothering to ask Darius how the heck a bear could arm wrestle at all. Knowing Darius, he’d probably figured out a way to make that work. “Now, if we’re going to win over Patricia, we both need to work together.”

  “Agreed,” said Darius. “In the spirit of that, I feel I should admit something. I have asked out Patricia.”

  Terrence remained deadpan, although his bear was growling and snapping like a jealous cub. Terrence told the bear to hush it as he knew what Patricia had said to Darius. He didn’t know the words, but he knew Patricia.

  “And?” asked Terrence after Darius didn’t say anything

  “Expected you to be jealous, is all,” said Darius.

  “How was your date?” asked Terrence.

  “Well, she didn’t exactly say yes,” admitted Darius.

  “Well, try again,” said Terrence.

  “Are you telling me to ask out Patricia?” asked Darius. “The woman you’re in love with?”

  “The woman we’re in love with,” said Terrence. “Look, Darius. We have to see her in private, outside of the bakery, outside of work. You know Patricia. She’s practically married already—to the job.”

  “That rat bastard Jasper married her?” growled Darius.

  “What? No, I mean like, metaphorically, she prioritizes work to the level it’s like a marriage,” said Terrence with a frown. “You know Jasper’s got his mate and is very happy with his situation. No. We need to get Patricia in private to have a chat with her about all this…and to get her to realize what we’ve both been saying for years.”

  “That we want to date her,” said Darius. “You know, I used to think she was dating you.”

  “I thought she was dating you—until I realized that she just saw us as work friends,” Terrence admitted with a sigh. “Look, Darius. We need to tell Patricia what’s up, in the right way, and fast. We should both, individually, try our hardest to get her to go with us on romantic dates, and explain the situation.”

  Patricia came out to the porch, bundled up. “What the heck are you two doing out here? Trying to negotiate the delivery rates behind my back?”

  “Would we do that?” Terrence asked coyly.

  “No—that’d require you two to work together,” said Patricia, with absolutely no clue about what Darius and Terrence had been talking ab
out. “Come on in before you two catch a death of cold.”

  Darius rubbed his big belly. “I have my winter fat. It’d take a heck of a blizzard to take down my bear.”

  “Well, I may be a curvy woman, but I don’t have enough fat to keep me that warm,” hissed Patricia. “Get inside. It’s frikkin’ freezing.”

  Patricia walked them into the bakery, toward the large meeting room where they held their regular meetings.

  Was it just her, or had Darius and Terrence actually been talking without ripping each other’s heads off?

  Nah. That was impossible.

  The day they got along would be the day were-pigs flew.

  They would discuss the lumber crew’s expenses and figure out what they owed the bakery. Patricia’s phone rang, and she answered it.

  “Uh-huh…wait, really?” asked Patricia, pausing. “No. Really?”

  Patricia opened the door to the meeting room and put her jacket down, as it had only been wrapped around her lightly so that she could quickly dip away from the porch. “Wait. This isn’t a joke? No, I don’t mean it like that! Well, congratulations! James, Richard, guess who I’m here with. Speaker? Of course.”

  Patricia put the phone on speaker mode.

  “Congratulations on the engagement,” said Darius.

  “How did Patricia already tell you?” asked James.

  “She didn’t,” said Terrence. “We had a hunch.”

  “Well, by a hunch, we mean I helped you make the dang ring box, so you know…” teased Darius.

  “Look, it’s Christmas Eve, you two crazy cubs just proposed, we won’t keep you,” said Terrence. “Merry Christmas from all of Hemlock Crew, James and Ginger and Richard.”

  “And a Merry Christmas from Grizzlyfir, Richard and Ginger and James,” said Darius.

  “Merry Christmas, Darius, and Patricia, and Terrence!” said the happy ménage before hanging up the phone.

  “Huh, funny,” mused Patricia.

  “What is?” asked Darius.

  “The way they said our names was like how you three said their names—guy, gal, guy,” said Patricia. “Wonder if people ever think we’re in a ménage! That’d be crazy, though, right?”

  “Right,” said Darius, catching Terrence’s warning glance. He had to trust his friend, but he also had to trust himself and his bear. “Well, Patricia…speaking of ménages, are there any other ménages you’ve been thinking about?”

  “Absolutely,” said Patricia.

  “Oh?” asked Terrence, heart beating a mile a minute. Would she finally acknowledge the chemistry?

  “Remember that gal Gretel, the one who took over the bakery up here and turned it into a frikkin’ gingerbread house?” asked Patricia. “Well…I heard your two lumberjacks got handsy with Gretel, if you know what I mean, and if you don’t, here’s the story…”

  Sneak Peek: Gretel and the Bears

  This is an unedited Sneak Peek. The final product will be edited!

  Will these lumber bears get handsy with Gretel?

  When curvy baker Gretel Ludlow manages to get lost in the woods after work, the last thing she expects is to get saved by two lumberjack bear shifters, following her trail of bread crumbs. Even more unexpected — the bears are from rival lumber crews, but each one keeps trying to set her up with the other!

  Buff bear shifters Trevor Cutter and Aiden Topley are from rival lumber crews, but they’ve been best friends since childhood. Both bears think Gretel’s sweeter and curvier than a candy cane. They share a shifter secret, but will Gretel be able to believe that they’re nice, and not naughty, after she hears about their bet?

  The last thing Gretel needs is a distraction at work, especially when she’s tapped to make custom gingerbread houses for a billionaire’s charity. Will Gretel ask Trevor and Aiden to not just help her build some gingerbread houses, but maybe, just maybe, build some gingerbread homes?

  Curvy baker Gretel Ludlow looked around the beautiful candy shop. Bright strings of Christmas lights were hung up around the shop, but the shop didn’t need them. The colorful candies were like a million tiny Christmas ornaments. There were the red and white striped soft after-dinner mints. There were the candy canes, in all types—the classic white and red striped peppermint candy canes, as well as spearmint candy canes with green swirls, cinnamon candy canes striped red and crimson, and even marionberry flavored candy canes, striped with dark purple. The lights made the translucent candies, like gumdrops and cherry hard candies, look like they were glowing.

  It made her feel at home. She hadn’t seen a fancy candy store like this since, well, since she’d last visited her hometown of Seattle. Seattle wasn’t much of a town at all. It was a whole dang city, much different than the relatively rural Port Jameson, Oregon

  Gretel closed up shop for the night. It had been a surprisingly quiet day, with no sales past two in the afternoon. That just meant Gretel could go online and look at pretty Christmas pictures for decoration inspiration. Gretel walked outside, bundled up in her big puffer jacket, and pulled out a sandwich.

  Well, what she wasn’t expecting was to find herself magically transported into the woods.

  The pop-up candy shop was in the usually empty lot next to Port Jameson’s favorite bakery, the Bear Claw Bakery at the base of a mountain populated by lumber crews. The lot was usually vacant during the winter. It stayed that way until it was time to plant pumpkin seeds for the annual Bear Claw Bakery pumpkin patch. But, what Gretel saw wasn’t creeping, curling vines, or big, fat, chubby pumpkins with curves and rolls much like her own.

  No. She was stuck in the dark, in the woods. There were trees all around her, shady green trees that smelled of pine—because they were pine trees.

  “Great, just great,” mumbled Gretel, rubbing her forehead. “I must be seeing things.” She pulled out her cellphone and called her boss, Patricia.

  “Hello, Gretel,” answered Patricia cheerily.

  “Patricia, did you move me up the mountain using some kind of Christmas magic or witchcraft?” asked Gretel.

  “No, what are you going on about?” asked Patricia.

  “Well, I just left the pop-up, and I’m surrounded by trees,” said Gretel.

  “Yeah—Christmas trees,” said Patricia. “Wait, did I forget to tell you? I’m renting the lot out to Grizzlyfir Crew and Hemlock Crew. They’re selling Christmas trees out of the lot!”

  “Okay—so how the heck do I get out?” asked Gretel. “You don’t have a map of this maze on you, do you?”

  “I’ll send someone to get you,” said Patricia.

  “I don’t need a frikkin’ babysitter,” grumbled Gretel.

  “I’ll send someone to get you,” repeated Patricia. “Just hold tight.”

  “It’s fine, it’s fine,” insisted Gretel before hanging up. She looked around. There was one path, so as long as she stuck to it, she’d be fine, right?

  Gretel munched on her turkey and cranberry sauce sandwich, which she’d stashed in her tiny minifridge at the shop. It was a minifridge, but she was a woman with a big appetite, so she usually took lunch breaks. That day, she hadn’t, which is why she hadn’t seen the Christmas trees go up.

  As she walked, she couldn’t believe she’d been so silly as to not realize what had happened. Of course, they were Christmas trees for sale. The trees were in orderly rows, looked ‘good’—no broken branches or desiccated twiffy yellow boughs —and they filled the air with a scent that could only be described as full of Christmas magic.

  It could also be described as herbal and woodsy, a bit sharp and sour, a bit earthy, but that doesn’t sound as good as ‘full of Christmas magic.’

  Things were easy until Gretel reached a fork in the path. If there was one fork in the road, there could be another fork in the path—heck, maybe even a knife and a spoon!

  Gretel munched on her sandwich and looked up at the sky. Could she use the stars to navigate her way through the maze?

  Nope. She didn’t know shizz about astr
onomy. She’d dropped out of Astronomy 101 when she’d realized it wouldn’t help her learn what to do when Mercury was in retrograde.

  Gretel picked the righthand path and walked through the labyrinth, staying right, hoping it would lead her out of the maze, instead of in a circle. Whose frikkin’ idea had it been to set up a Christmas tree sale in the lot, surrounding her little pop-up shop? Gretel wondered if her new friend Ginger, who was working at another Bear Claw Bakery pop-up shop, down on Main Street, was having the same issues.

  Well, of course not. Ginger was busy with her two bears. She’d ended up in a ménage with two lumber bears. She had a way to stay warm that winter.

  Gretel wandered the maze of Christmas trees for another fifteen minutes, and her weredogs started barking. She couldn’t wait to get home and prop her feet up in front of the fire.

  Well, in front of her tiny space heater.

  Gretel approached another fork in the road and wondered if maybe, she’d been following the wrong path the entire time. Should she switch courses, or should she keep going down the same way she’d committed to?

  Before Gretel could make her decision, she heard a rustling coming from the trees. She stood still and listened to the sound. What could it be? Maybe a bird was nesting in one of the trees. Well, if the trees had been put up that day, it couldn’t’ve been a bird. There weren’t any animals in the lot—the farming crew had made sure of that. The lot was a vermin-free zone—and that applied to the cute and cuddlies as well. The only rabbits that were welcome were wererabbits.

  Gretel tried to figure out where the sound was coming from, but then, she realized it was getting louder. It was getting closer—whatever ‘it’ was!

  Gretel fight-or-flight reflex took off, and she took off down the left-hand path, running faster than the gingerbread man, breaking the BBW land speed record, as she zoomed through the rows and rows of trees.

  She heard the pounding of feet against the snow. It didn’t sound like shoes…but it didn’t quite sound like human feet. It seemed bigger, heavier, scarier. She looked behind herself and then let out a primal scream.