by Sable Sylvan
“I think his parents were European hippies,” said Avery. “Pagan bunch. Anyway. Every year, Krampus trains a bad boy, teaches him some skills, and sends him back out into the real world.”
“I’m familiar with that kind of program,” said Carol. “It was the kind of thing offered to me after foster care. Went once, never went back. The people training me looked at me like I was a criminal, a bad egg when I had a clean record, all because I was from the system. I said fuck that, looked for a job, found the Bear Claw Bakery in Seattle, and worked there. Finding a legit job, getting my life together — it probably sounds like small potatoes, but to me, it’s rags to riches, a real Cinderella story. I know — knew — people that couldn’t get it together, that got sent out to programs in the desert, the woods, all that. But this? This is real rural. The kind of guys who go to that rehab program, they got problems?”
“Big problems,” said Avery. “But at least we get to watch them row, row, row that boat.”
The boat was nearing. Carol saw that the boat contained two figures and a trash bag. One was wearing regular lumberjack clothes: some work pants, a flannel top. The other was shirtless. There was something written across his chest. Carol couldn’t quite make out what it was.
The boat rowed closer. Carol could see that the figure was handsome, muscular, but she couldn’t read the word.
The boat docked. The lumberjack looking man got out of the boat and walked up to the patio.
“Merry Christmas, Avery,” said Krampus.
“Merry Christmas,” said Avery. “Isn’t it a bit early?”
“December first is always the day we bring you your tree,” said Krampus.
“‘Always’ meaning two years in a row?” asked Avery. “Thanks.”
“Don’t forget to put my pickle up. I want everyone to look at my pickle,” said Krampus.
“His what?” asked Carol, confused.
“Forget about it,” said Avery.
She pulled out her tablet and clicked some buttons.
“Alright,” said Avery. “Secret Santana is a company tradition.”
“I’m not participating,” said Krampus.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Avery, punching Krampus’s name into the app.
“Really? Real mature,” said Krampus.
“Alright, and Carol, you’re doing this too,” said Avery.
“No use trying to argue,” said Carol.
“Smart girl,” said Krampus. “Trade you for my dumb boy. What’s taking you so long, boy?”
The figure at the rowboat was struggling to get the package out of the boat.
“Should I go help him?” asked Carol.
“No,” said Krampus. “He’s like a service dog. Best if you don’t touch him and interfere with his work. He’s got to learn to do things right.”
Carol watched as the man reached for the package and then, missed entirely, and fell off the boat. He rolled in mid-air to miss the boat, but fell right into the icy cold lake!
“Shit,” said Carol, getting up.
“Calm down,” said Avery. “He’s a shifter. He can handle it.”
The man got out of the water. At least he was near the rowboat now. He grabbed the bundle and trudged up the stairs from the shore to the patio.
As he approached, Carol took in his features. He was hotter than she’d thought. Much hotter. He had a crew cut and wild stubble. She wondered if the stubble was an early five-o-clock shadow. Maybe shifter beards grew fast. If the guy was a shifter, what was his shift?
The man was carrying the giant bag in front of his torso, hugging it as he moved it. Inside the bag was a freshly cut and trimmed Christmas tree.
“And what would your name be, young man?” asked Avery.
“Ethan,” said the soaking wet man in a low, commanding voice that turned Carol’s legs to jelly.
“And…done,” said Avery. “Tomorrow, everyone will get their Secret Santana assignments.”
“Their what?” asked Ethan. “I didn’t sign up for that.”
“If I have to do it, you have to do it,” said Krampus.
Ethan put the bag down, revealing the word written on his chest. Carol smiled to herself. ‘Naughty,’ in bright green, across his chest.
Carol had seen mate marks before. She knew what the deal was. Shifters had mate marks, given to them by Fate, marks that would lead them to their fated mates — the people they were meant to be with for the rest of their lives. Humans like her…well, they didn’t have them, but they could be claimed by shifters nonetheless.
It was a warning label, but Carol liked to live dangerously – even if she claimed otherwise. Actions spoke louder than words. She was the kind of gal who could stay out past midnight without worrying her carriage would turn into a pumpkin. She’d spent years fending for herself, and she was good at it. The question was, was the mark meant to attract Naughty women or women who wanted to find a Naughty shifter stuffing their stocking on Christmas Day?
“Hey,” said Ethan, nodding to Carol.
“Carol, I need to set the tree up with Krampus,” said Avery. “Can you show Ethan where the order is?”
“What order?” asked Carol.
“There’s a big order, four coffee carriers, two trays of pastry, in the back,” said Avery.
“Two trays?” asked Krampus.
“New boxes,” said Avery. “Anyway, Carol, the boxes and coffee carriers are in the kitchen. Just show Ethan where it is, and don’t worry about carrying stuff to the dock. The boys can handle it.”
“Where do you want the tree again?” asked Krampus.
“How could you frikkin’ forget? I have you put it in the same dang place every year!” said Avery. “Put it over the stain you left on my floor, the same damn mark that you promise to get out of that same damn floor every year…a promise you never keep!”
“I am a simple man who can only handle one promise at a time,” teased Krampus. “Would you rather I keep my promise to fix your floor…or keep my promise to bring you this big, fluffy, fragrant Christmas tree?”
“‘I guess I’d rather have the tree,” grumbled Avery. “Carol! Ethan! Go get the pastries before I make you both go down to the creepy old basement to get the ornaments for the tree! You gotta make yourselves useful, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Ethan, looking back down at Carol. “Shall we?”
Carol got up from the table. She realized just how small she was compared to the shifter. Ethan was taller than her. That was a given. He was tall for a shifter, and shifters were taller than women. What surprised Carol was just how broad Ethan was. He wasn’t a skinny twig. While her curves were filled with juicy plump fat, Ethan’s were stuffed full of rock-hard muscles. His silhouette was still big and broad.
“Uhm, this way,” said Carol, leading Ethan to the back of the bakery.
“This is the kitchen,” said Carol. “And…I think that’s your order.”
“Is it, now?” asked Ethan, brushing up against Carol from behind.
“I’m pretty sure it is,” said Carol, turning, crossing her arms.
“You don’t wanna spend a little more time…finding it?” asked Ethan, brushing a hair out of Carol’s face with one finger.
“Uh-huh, and why do I feel like the time spent ‘finding’ it would be time you’d spend trying to claim me?” asked Carol. “After all…is that an ax in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”
“It’s an ax,” said Ethan, undoing the holster and pulling the big wood and metal tool out, before putting it down on a freshly sanitized counter.
“Oh,” said Carol. “When you brushed up against me earlier, that wasn’t your dick?”
“No,” said Ethan. “That’s bigger. Much bigger.”
“Than an ax? With a huge metal ax head?” asked Carol.
“No, I mean, it’s thicker than the handle,” said Ethan blushing.
What are you doing? asked Prancer.
I don’t know, admitted Ethan.
I’ve never met a woman like this.
A woman who doesn’t treat you like the privileged billionaire prick you are? asked Prancer.
Well, when you put it that way, yes, Ethan acquiesced. I’m used to getting what I want. It’s what I do best. And what I want…is her…
She doesn’t seem to want anything to do with you, said Prancer.
Then explain how I can scent out her arousal, growled Ethan.
“Hello? Earth to Ethan?” asked Carol, waving a hand in front of Ethan’s face. “I know my boobs won’t stare at themselves, but, your order won’t carry itself out to your rowboat. Come on.”
Carol loaded Ethan up with the two trays of pastries and carefully put the four carriers of coffee on top of the trays, which bent under the weight of the coffee. She watched him walk away. Ethan had made an enormous mess. He’d tracked mud into the kitchen. He’d put his dirty ax on the counter. Who was this inconsiderate bad boy, and why did his blasé attitude just make him so much hotter to Carol?
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.
Catalog: www.amazon.com/author/SableSylvan All my books are available for FREE under the Kindle Unlimited borrowing program. I appreciate all reviews — positive or negative!
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xoxo,
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
[email protected]