Spring Feve

by Emerald Wright

I kept my heart at a distance, but enjoyed the raw, primal companionship that sex offers.

  Then I got the itch. The urge to find my real mate. My true mate. Bear nature and all.

  I didn’t want to have just sex any longer, I wanted a partner again. A companion. A mate to mate with. One to keep. Call my own. A wife. I wanted children. Yes, it was old-school. And traditional. But romantic and simple.

  Starting over, I’d decided I would need to take some risks. Get outside my comfort zone. Be brave and go somewhere I’d never been before. Of all the East Coast cities, Boston appealed the most to me. Maybe it had to do with Red Sox and the history. Or the weather and collegiate influence. Maybe all of it. So I went. Which was hilarious, at first, in retrospect.

  A shifter like me, in the city!?

  Ha!

  But I’d done it. Because waiting any longer wasn’t going to work. I was fighting against my bear nature to be more alone, stand-offish and reclusive. Everything in me screamed – find a cave already!!

  Sure, it was that time of year when my kind would stock and store up, disappear for a deep, winter’s sleep and burrow away somewhere safe, dark, earthy and dry to slumber away the darkest part of winter until early spring. A Rocky Mountain shifter, I’d been incredibly reluctant to move to a thriving metropolis area, but I’d trusted my gut that for some reason, I needed to make my way to the East Coast to find my match. My partner and better half.

  My mate.

  I opened Cassidy’s manuscript, scrolled to page one and began to read. After meeting her for breakfast, having a better sense of her persona, I wanted to start from the beginning again, even though I’d already started reading her book.

  I reminisced a bit, observing her squirm as she’d explained why she wrote shifter erom, the term the industry used for erotic romance. How it had started as a way to pay the bills, then turned into a lotto ticket of hard work plus some publishing good fortune along with right timing. That she still had literary ambitions.

  Cute. Charming. Amusing…

  I wasn’t one to judge. I admired the writer’s gift and talent to weave realities from words, grammar, sentences, paragraphs and chapters that turned into stories of every imaginable kind. It was a noble profession, a respected art-form, and it required a brave tenacity to be willing to put out to the world a title that was worth reading.

  Because criticism was as intense as the sharp, hard surface of a diamond-cut jewel. Unforgiving, unrelenting, cruel and very rarely fair. Readers were sometimes an assumptive, apathetic bunch. But when that sweet-spot was found, when the story captured a reader’s mind and heart – then magic happened.

  As I read, I was pulled in. I’d suspend my inner editor for the first complete read-through and then then I’d allow the red-ink to fly. Although she only needed and was paying for me to edit the three final chapters, I’d decided to do both. Considering that Charlene had already done a final edit, I wasn’t convinced she’d made the most of Cassidy’s book.

  I’d run the risk of doing a full edit as well as the partial she required. This way, she could get a feel for my editing technique. Hopefully, she’d appreciate my style, my approach?

  Besides, Charlene had confided in me that she had grown tired of editing all of Cassidy’s shifter titles, no matter how reliable and consistent the stream of income was. She needed a break and was hoping I’d consider filling in the gap. She didn’t want to leave Cassidy hanging or hurt her feelings. Maybe we could finesse a transition without Charlene realizing it?

  The day passed from mid-morning light to the twilight of evening before I left the coffee shop, having ordered a sandwich mid-afternoon to pull me through from the big breakfast I’d eaten, to the salmon, baked potato and asparagus dinner I would cook for myself once I got home.

  Done with reading her story, I’d shifted into editor mode and was already halfway done. I’d give it a break, enjoy my dinner and then continue on into the night after taking a nap. Rising from the table and gathering up my belongings, I noticed that the tall, slender barista behind the counter was watching me closely. She’d flirted a bit when I’d placed my order.

  It was always a bit awkward and flattering. But how does a man, a bear like me explain to women; Sorry, you’re not my type. I like plus-sized women with soft, sweet, feminine curves. Creatures ample with cleavage, hips and ass. Lane Bryant women… Women like Cassidy, for example.

  I wouldn’t. I never did. There was no need to be rude, but I sure hated it when they assumed that they were my type, flirting up a storm and ending up confused when I didn’t return it. Most would assume that I was gay and I was perfectly fine with them thinking that.

  Nope, I was looking for a big, voluptuous, Mama Bear type.

  One to keep me and my bed warm. For life.

  Chapter Three

  (( 3 ))

  CASSIDY

  At some point, spending most of my day in bed, reading – I finally got up and went for a swim. My preferred form of exercise. As a plus-sized, curvaceous woman, I’d found that the hardest part wasn’t the actual workout as I loved getting in the water and how calm, relaxed and zen I felt during and after a workout.

  Nope, the hard part was the scrutiny I would get from other people. Some disapproving, some amazed, others, mainly men, who were attracted to me. Over time, I’d become more accepting, kind and loving of my body. Once I got past all the stereotypical, societal bullshit, I was finally able to look beyond what was dictated as attractive and desirable to find that I was an attractive woman, in my own, curvy way.

  I ate well, exercised, went to the doctor and in the end, I’d realized that having a positive and healthy attitude about my body was far better than being on some sort of never-ending diet that never worked, deprived me of the pleasure of food, and let’s face it – was a type of psychological hypnotism that the diet industry used to make money.

  It had taken some time to readjust my expectations about myself, to be more realistic, kind and fair. Instead of berating myself constantly, like seemingly so many plus-size women do, I learned to love, accept and take care of me and my body the best I could. So, at the end of the day, I was confident, comfortable and proud of my rubenesque physique.

  About the only area I still struggled with was how to meet a man’s attraction and desire for me, head-on. To believe it, accept it and know it was real – no doubt or question’s asked. A type of assumptive confidence that many thin, slender women seemed to take for granted.

  That teenage part of my brain that had been mercilessly teased about being chubby or plump still lurked, deep in the recesses of my psyche and unconscious, wreaking havoc on my self-esteem. As if being either of those things was a bad thing? But the world sure did make it seem terrible. Foolishly, when young and naïve – we fall prey to and believe this utter nonsense. The focus should be on health and well-being, not some magically-defined pant size.

  It was like a demon in there, roaming around sometimes. Cast thee out!!

  I’d decided that I needed an exorcist to face my inner demons surrounding self-esteem and body acceptance. It arrived in the form of my therapist, Stanley. I paid to talk my way to sanity, when being perpetually solitary got to me. When I was climbing the walls. I was more than happy to pay for some talk-time that brought peace of mind and some sense to my life, my silly little existence on Earth.

  So, there I was, doing my laps and just as I’m about to flip and go down the other side, a guy in the lane next to me makes a mean remark; watch out, the whale is doing a flip!

  Most of the time, I would just let that slide. Besides, whales are perfectly amazing animals. In any other context, I’d take that as a compliment.

  But not today.

  Maybe it was because I’d met Abe earlier in the day, an attractive, handsome and physically fit man I clearly desired and had no idea if he would ever be interested in me. It was hard to figure for the most part since the amount of bullshit a plus-sized woman endures is
only equal to the amount of grief and shame that gets poured onto men who happen to find us attractive, sexy and desirable. So, they learn to hide it and they hide it well.

  I was already feeling vulnerable, so to be provoked and made fun of, in public, while I’m bloody, fracking exercising, no less – was too much!

  Instead, today, I stopped swimming and decked him. Just out and out hit him. Straight in the face. He didn’t see it coming either. Next thing I knew, there was blood everywhere, pouring out of his nose. Disgusted, I made my way to the steps and got out of the pool. I ignored his wailing and all the shocked looks by other swimmers and gym members, and made my way to the locker-room showers.

  Allowing the warm water to run over me, soothing and calming me, my seething anger turned into a sob.

  What had I done?!

  I was almost done drying myself off when a staff member of the gym made her way to me in the locker-room. I could tell that she looked about as awkward as possible, but it was her job.

  “M’am. The police are here to ask you some questions about assaulting another gym member. I’ll need you to come out and speak with them, please.” She said, her voice shaky but still considerate.

  “Okay,” I said miserly. Somewhat embarrassed, I finished dressing as fast as I could while she waited for me.

  Once she escorted me out of the locker-room, two burly-sized police officers stood by, waiting.

  “M’am, we need to talk with you. Please come with us.” One of them said to me, his voice firm but not rude.

  They led me into an employee break-room that had been cleared out so they could talk with me. Once I sat down, I finally looked up at them and sucked in a big sigh.

  “This is Officer Rotan and I’m Officer Biggs. Mr. Holden, the man you assaulted in the pool, he is pressing charges. Care to explain what happened in there?”

  I gulped, “He made a rude comment during my workout about me being a whale and for everyone to watch out. Something about a flip.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure, but I saw an amused grin cross the officer’s face. “So, you decked him in the face, the nose to be specific, for making that comment?”

  “Yes, sir. I did.” I said softly, the tears brimming in my eyes.

  What a fucking fool I felt like! I was a good, law-abiding citizen. Not the type to hit people. Where had that come from?!

  He shifted his stance and looked at me closely. “Have you ever assaulted anyone before, m’am?”

  “No, not unless you include wrestling my little sister when I was a kid.” I answered.

  “Are you taking any medications or recreational drugs?” He asked, his partner scrutinizing me in one way, while he did in another way.

  “Yes, I take medicine for my asthma, but nothing recreational. I don’t use that type of stuff. Just a drink every now and again.”

  “Any mental health issues, disabilities or other health concerns that might affect your behavior?”

  “No, officer. None that I know of. I was just hurt and angry. He crossed the line and I reacted… I reacted poorly.” I muttered, holding back my tears.

  “Well, ma’am, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the man you hit is a local newsman and unfortunately, you broke his nose. He’s on his way to the E.R. and when we spoke to him, he wanted to press charges.”

  Suddenly, it occurred to me the extremity of what I’d done. He could sue me for all that I was worth. Make a national joke out of me. Shame me in front of the world.

  I’m sure all the color in my face must have drained away. Oddly enough, they both seemed sympathetic.

  “For what it’s worth, he shouldn’t have made the remark. We already spoke to another gym member who confirmed that he’d made a rude remark to you and that it wasn’t the first time, so we’ll take that into consideration. It wouldn’t be in his favor for the public to know that he was making snide remarks about someone while they were exercising, follow?”

  That’s right!! Damned straight! The turd was an ass-hat…

  I nodded my head ever-so-slightly, indicating that I comprehended the message he was attempting to get across.

  “For now, we need to take you down to the police station.”

  My heart sank to my stomach, “Okay, officer.” I put out my wrists for the handcuffs and he shook his head.

  “No need, you’re not the violent type. I reviewed your record and you have no criminal history, only a couple parking tickets. We just need you to ride in the back of the police car and come down to the station. We’ll process the charges and arrest. Be thinking about who you’d like to bail you out. The weekend is coming up.” He explained and then we walked out of the break-room to a room full of gawking gym members.

  I wanted to fall right through the floor and die from embarrassment. What did I think was going to happen? Why hadn’t I thought this through before impulsively decking a total stranger?

  On the way into the police station, I realized that both my best friend and my sister and her husband were out of town.

  Shit! Fuck! Crap! There was no one around to literally, physically bail me out?!

  That did it. I started to cry again. Despite my attempts to not sniffle and make it obvious, the officers noticed.

  “M’am, you okay back there?”

  “Yeah… Just realized that everyone I know who could bail me out is currently out of town at the moment.” I said miserably, “I wish I’d skipped my workout today, right about now.”

  They looked at one another briefly, sharing one of those, it sucks to be her right about now, type of looks. I couldn’t even believe it. I was arrested, in a cop car, being taken downtown and charged with assault. All because the local weatherman, aka, ass-clown, called me a whale during the middle of my swim workout.

  This day had started so well. What had happened?

  Chapter Four

  (( 4 ))

  ABE

  My cell identified the call as coming from the county jail. It had to be a mistake, or a weird prank? Nonetheless, I answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Abe?”

  “Yes?” I said, recognizing the voice. It was Cassidy’s.

  “It’s Cassidy… this is incredibly embarrassing, but – um, would you be willing to help me? I need to ask like the hugest favor in the world…” She eeked out, her voice brimming with nervousness and embarrassment.

  What in the world had she gotten herself into!?

  “Cassidy, are you calling from the jail?” I asked, confused.

  There was a pause, “Yup, and I’m utterly mortified about it. I’ll explain everything, but are you able to bail me out? I can pay you back immediately, of course. I promise! We can go straight to the bank or something.”

  “Wow! Okay, but why are you calling me? I don’t mind helping, but surely you must have someone in your life or a family member in the area?”

  She fell silent, and I was pretty sure she was on the verge of crying, “Everyone I know who would help me is out of town, as luck would have it. Both my best friend, my sister and my sister’s husband…”

  “Got it. I’ll head straight over.”

  “Thank you. Abe, they’re saying I need to get off the phone, but I promise to explain everything.” I could hear the tears in her throat. She was genuinely upset, that was plain as day.

  “Okay, it will be okay. How much? How much is the bail?” I asked.

  “It’s a lot. I apologize, I’m so sorry. It’s five-thousand. Can you do it?” She said, pleading in her voice.

  Five thousand?! That would clear out my savings… But somehow, I knew she was good for it.

  “Yes, I can. I’m on my way.”

  “Thank you, Abe. You’re saving my ass twice in one day. Thank you…” she said softly.

  “I’ll be there are soon as I can. Promise.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  * * *


  I pulled my Jeep up in front of the police station and took a deep breath. My mind was spinning with all sorts of crazy ideas about what sort of trouble Cassidy had gotten herself into. I barely knew her, but this didn’t seem like her. Somehow, I just knew this about her.

  I climbed out of my Jeep and headed in. I had a cashier’s check in my jacket pocket for the bail. Once inside, I glanced around – sniffing out the space, my senses on high alert. In the shifter universe, it’s not uncommon for many to be in law enforcement and I needed to play ball so as not to make Cassidy’s situation any worse.

  Being a newcomer in town only made it that much worse. No one knew me. Because of that, I was at a disadvantage. Since I had absolutely no idea what had happened or why she was even in jail, I needed to rely on instinct to get me through this.

  In the end, it could be nothing and no bother whatsoever.

  But never bother a bear, they say. I hoped no one would take issue with my dormant form and true nature. I was pretty much already heading into internal hibernation mode, so hopefully, no one got a whiff of me.

  Immediately, I was struck by the scent of two other bear-shifters.

  Shit!

  It was one thing if I was dealing with a wolf, coyote, or a big cat even. But bears?! Not good… Not good at all.

  I made my way to the desk of the deputy on duty behind the bullet-proof, glass partition and politely went about explaining why I was there and for who. While waiting, filling out paperwork, the two bears I’d scented, came out to talk with me.

  The bigger of the two extended his hand and introduced himself as Officer Biggs. It fit him, he was indeed big. A big bear of a man. But kindly, I could sense it in him. Not aggressive unless he needed to be.

  In our own way, we all acknowledged one another. Then introductions carried on. Once that was done, they explained what had happened. Before I could choke back a laugh, it came roaring out.

  “She decked a guy? While swimming?! Because he called her a whale?”

  “Yes, sir. It is sort of amusing, not that we endorse any type of physical assault, mind you, as a way to handle a disagreement or rude remark, but we can appreciate the humor in these situations.”