Stud Muffin Bears (Freshly Baked Furry Tails Book 1) Page 3

“That’s too kind of you,” said the woman, who left the rest of her change in the tip jar before heading out.

  As she left, someone else came into the bakery — a familiar someone in a flannel shirt.

  “And here I was, hoping I’d get to ring that bell,” said Jevon, eying over Jennifer. “Guess I’ll have to come back later.”

  “Or — random thought — you could place an order now, and ring the bell once,” teased Jennifer. “What’ll it be, Jevon?”

  “Two dozen cornbread muffins — surprising the boss with those tonight,” explained Jevon. “Cook found six frozen turkeys in the back of the freezer.”

  “I guess if there’s such a thing as Christmas in July, Thanksgiving in June ain’t that much more farfetched,” said Jennifer, shaking her head, as she loaded up the muffins into the box. One of the muffins broke into two so she replaced it with a new muffin and left the broken bits in the box as an extra something for Jevon and the boys.

  “I don’t want a broken one,” said Jevon.

  “And I’m not charging you for a broken one,” said Jennifer. “You’re getting that for free — because that cornmeal would be Hell on our garbage disposals, and werebears are nature’s garbage disposals, aren’t they?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that I uh…may have stolen some coolers of food, in my shift, in my youth,” said Jevon shyly.

  “Of course, you did,” said Jennifer, shaking her head. “You’re lucky that didn’t land you a face of birdshot for dessert.”

  “Speak of desserts…how’s your muffin project going?” asked Jevon.

  “You remember that?” asked Jennifer.

  “My ears work,” said Jevon. “So. How’s it going?”

  “To tell you the truth — not great,” said Jennifer.

  “Can’t be that bad,” said Jevon. “If you’re in the habit of giving away free muffins, I’ll take the prototypes off your hands.”

  “Really?” asked Jennifer, raising a brow. She put down the two filled boxes of muffins and went to the back of the kitchen to grab the tray of messed-up muffins.

  “They don’t look bad,” said Jevon.

  “Try one,” challenged Jennifer.

  Jevon picked a muffin up — and only the top of the muffin came up, leaving behind a soggy mess.

  “Okay — so they’re not great,” admitted Jevon. “But — I love myself some muffin top.” Jevon licked the side of the muffin, cleaning the sticky juices off it while looking over Jennifer.

  Jennifer gulped. How could Jevon go from corny to caring to down-right sexy in no-time flat? Was that some secret shifter power?

  Of course, Jevon would go for that line about muffin tops — after all, he’d inquired after hers in roundabout ways ever since she’d first shot him down. He’d never pushed things, but…well, he made it hard for her to keep pretending she didn’t know what he was interested in.

  But, the last thing Jennifer needed was a distraction. Even without distractions, the muffin project was a bust.

  “Is the…uh, muffin top, any good?” asked Jennifer.

  “Never met a muffin top I didn’t like,” said Jevon, with a mouth full of muffin top, before wiping his mouth on the arm of his flannel shirt.

  “Okay, gross,” said Jennifer.

  “What? It’s my shirt!” said Jevon.

  “And it’s your crumbs all over my floor,” said Jennifer.

  “You want me to lick them up for you?” asked Jevon.

  “No — but the next time you do that, I’m going to make you take a broom and clean them up yourself,” said Jennifer.

  Jevon poked at the topless muffin in the tin. It was very squishy.

  “These are awfully wet, aren’t they?” asked Jevon.

  “You think?” asked Jennifer.

  Jevon poked the muffin again and then, dug his fingers into the muffin, and pulled something out — spraying purple juice everywhere as he messed around with the pastry.

  “Hey! What did I tell you about making a mess?” asked Jennifer.

  “There’s your problem, right there,” said Jevon, poking the marionberry in his hand.

  “That’s just a marionberry,” said Jennifer.

  “It’s too big,” said Jevon.

  “Too big?” asked Jennifer. “This is how big they are. That’s just what marionberries are like.”

  “Not all of them,” said Jevon. “Most — but not all. How much do you know about these berries?”

  “They’re tasty and popular,” said Jennifer.

  “And they’re big,” said Jevon. “Big berries are juicier. That juice is going to make for juicier pies — but also juicier muffins.”

  “So, what are you saying? I should go and find someone who will sell me smaller berries?” asked Jennifer.

  “The berries you need aren’t for sale,” said Jevon. “They’re in the woods.”

  “Okay, are you going to be cryptic, or are you going to tell me what the heck you’re talking about?” asked Jennifer.

  “Marionberries are a manmade variety of blackberries — but they’ve been around so long that some have started growing in the wild,” said Jevon. “Seeds get spread by animals, by people, and now, you can find marionberries in the wild. Best ones I’ve ever had are up on that mountain, and they’re smaller but more flavorful.”

  “How do you know so much about these berries? And about baking?” asked Jennifer incredulously.

  “Went berry hunting with my pa, helped my ma with the baking,” said Jevon.

  “Where exactly can I find these berries?” asked Jennifer.

  “It’s not that easy,” said Jevon.

  “How hard could it be?” asked Jennifer.

  “If you have any chance of finding that patch, you’re going to need me,” said Jevon.

  “Oh yeah?” asked Jennifer. “Why?”

  “Because without my nose, you don’t have a snow bear’s chance in Hell of finding that berry patch,” said Jevon.

  “And what makes your nose so special?” asked Jennifer, crossing her arms.

  “I’m a shifter. My bear can scent out berries from a mile away,” said Jevon, raising a brow. “Berries. Salmon. Hives of honey. My bear knows what it likes, Jennifer — and its nose can hunt down whatever sweet thing it so desires, and I do mean sweet, sweet thing.” Jevon ran his eyes up and down Jennifer’s solid curves and felt his cock clench.

  “So, I can just ask any other shifter for help,” said Jennifer. “I’ll just get a map to the berry patch from them.”

  “You shouldn’t go into those woods alone,” said Jevon.

  “And why not?” asked Jennifer. “You think I can’t handle carrying a few buckets of berries on my own?”

  “It’s just, well…there are bears in those woods, Jennifer,” warned Jevon.

  “Ha-ha,” said Jennifer, rolling her eyes.

  “There are — and I’m not going to let you get yourself hurt,” said Jevon.

  “Jennifer, I found these three farms,” said Patricia, coming out of the office with three stapled sets of papers. “Jevon? What are you doing lollygagging about?”

  “Jevon was just telling me about a wild marionberry patch — but he has to take me there himself, apparently,” said Jennifer.

  “You’d really take her to the patch?” asked Patricia warily. “You must really like her.”

  “Yeah — obviously,” said Jevon. “I could take her right now.”

  The thought of being taken by Jevon made Jennifer’s cheeks turn crimson.

  “Uh-huh,” said Patricia. “Jennifer — tell you what. Grab some waters and sandwiches from the display cabinet — on the house — and — ”

  “We have food and water back at base camp,” said Jevon. “Trust me. We can handle feeding her lunch.”

  “Hey — suit yourself,” said Patricia. “I’ll ring up your boss and let him know that, uh, you’re doing some work for me this afternoon. In a way, you kind of are.”

  “Wait — so you’re sending me
up the mountain with Jevon?” asked Jennifer.

  “Yes — as your boss, I want you to go with Jevon, get those berries, and use them to make the best damn muffins Port Jameson has ever tasted,” said Patricia. “This is an order, Jennifer.”

  “And I don’t suppose you can send someone else to get them?” asked Jennifer sheepishly.

  “You’re the only person I’d take to the patch,” said Jevon.

  “Okay — that’s not fair,” said Jennifer.

  “Well, guess you have to go berry-picking then,” said Patricia. “Jevon — I take it you have baskets up there?”

  “Of course,” said Jevon. “Only thing Jennifer’s going to need are some hiking boots.”

  “What size are you?” asked Patricia.

  “Nine,” said Jennifer.

  “Great — you can borrow mine,” said Patricia, going back to her office, grabbing a bag of boots, and passing them to Jennifer. “Now, what are you all standing around here for? There are berries waiting to be picked!”

  Jennifer couldn’t believe it — Jevon and Patricia had managed to get her alone with Jevon. She got into Jevon’s truck.

  “Mind holding these on your lap?” asked Jevon.

  “Sure, whatever,” said Jennifer, taking the trays of muffins and holding them on her lap.

  “You don’t exactly sound excited to be going berry picking,” noted Jevon.

  “I just, ugh — it’s kinda early, you know?” said Jennifer. “It’s not even noon yet!”

  “Do you really want to go berry picking when it’s hot out?” asked Jevon.

  “You know — you could just give me the location of the patch, and you wouldn’t have to babysit me,” said Jennifer.

  “I wasn’t kidding when I said the woods are full of bears,” said Jevon. “I would hate if anything happened to you, anything I could’ve prevented. I know it’s stupid. I know that the chance of you getting hurt in those woods is slim to none. But, doesn’t change that I’d still worry about you going out there alone.”

  “You barely know me,” said Jennifer. “Why do you care?”

  “Maybe because I’m half decent — but be warned, the other half’s still cocky bastard,” said Jevon. “In the spirit of safety, buckle up. The ride to Grizzlyfir ain’t exactly paved with…well, paved at all.”

  Jennifer tightened her seatbelt and Jevon drove out of the lot next to Bear Claw Bakery, along the street until he reached one of the entrances to the tree-covered Port Jameson Hills.

  The ‘mountains’ were technically hills — but they sure felt like mountains to Jennifer. They were tall and towered over the town of Port Jameson. The scent of pine wafted down the hills to the bakery. She smelled it on her daily walks to and from the bakery. After Jevon lowered the windows, the smell filled the truck cab. Jennifer watched as the green leaves swayed in the gentle summer wind, as the truck bounced along the rough gravel road up to Grizzlyfir Crew’s base camp.

  Jevon took a turn onto a dirt side path, plainly marked with a wooden plank reading ‘Grizzlyfir.’ The path was even bumpier than the gravel road. The winding dirt road led to a dirt lot near a large grassy patch of land. A large wooden lodge was to the side of the lawn and the lot.

  “Welcome to Camp Grizzlyfir,” said Jevon, getting out of the truck and getting over to Jennifer’s side of the cab before she had even unbuckled her seatbelt. Jevon opened the door and offered a hand. Jennifer noticed the marks on Jevon’s hand — the black pawprint marks of a bear shifter — and it was just another reminder that she was very out of her element. She was in the bear’s woods now.

  Jennifer put the muffins aside, took Jevon’s hand, and got out of the truck. Jevon reached back in and grabbed the boxes of muffins before passing them to Jennifer.

  “Hey! I didn’t come here to be your mule,” said Jennifer.

  “Trust me — you show up with those muffins, and you’ll be everyone’s favorite person,” said Jevon, shutting the door to the truck. “Come on — I can smell lunch.”

  Jennifer started walking toward the front door, where men in flannel shirts and jeans were streaming into the lodge-like building.

  As Jennifer neared the entrance, men turned and looked her over. At first, she felt intimidated — as if she was a piece of meat.

  Then, she heard the bears roar. No — it wasn’t a roar. It was a grumbling, from their stomachs. They weren’t horny — they were hungry.

  “Are those…cornbread muffins?” asked one of the bears.

  “Yeah — I’m surprised you can tell,” admitted Jennifer. “They’re not fresh out of the oven or anything.”

  “You don’t think…I could get just one bite, could I?” asked the bear.

  Before Jennifer could answer, there was a loud thwap, as the bear was hit over the head with a rolled-up newspaper!

  “You know the answer, Oliver,” growled the man in a pink gingham apron with teal rickrack ribbon trim, standing with a newspaper in one hand, chewing a toothpick. “Next time you ask something that stupid, I’ll use the rolling pin instead. Now, I better see this crowd split like pea soup. Let the little lady through!”

  “Who’re you calling a little lady?” asked Jennifer, following the man through the crowd.

  “I don’t know, given you haven’t introduced yourself,” said the man. “I’m Alex Thomas, lumberjack, and cook here at Camp Grizzlyfir.”

  “Wow, you’re the head chef?” asked Jennifer.

  “No — I’m the cook,” said Alex. “And you are? Jevon’s girlfriend, I presume?”

  “N-no,” said Jennifer. “I work at Bear Claw Bakery. I came here with Jevon because he said he’d take me berry picking.”

  “He did, did he?” asked Alex with a chuckle, leading Jennifer through the combination dining and social area that formed the center of the large lodge. The common space was two stories tall, and large skylights were letting natural light illuminate the room’s worn brown leather couches and scratched wooden tables and chairs. The place wasn’t fancy, but it was well-used and looked to be well-loved.

  “Yeah. I’m having some issues coming up with a way to make a marionberry muffin that’s not soggy,” admitted Jennifer. “You wouldn’t happen to have any clue about how to solve that issue, would you?”

  “Kid, if I could bake, I wouldn’t be sending in orders for food from Bear Claw Bakery — no offense,” said Alex. “What I’m trying to say is, if you gals down the mountain can’t figure that shizz out, this old bear’s no use.”

  “You’re like thirty, dude,” said Jevon.

  “Old enough to know I’m a cook, not a baker, and definitely not a time waster,” said Alex, leading them into the kitchen. “Now, these berries — Jevon, they wouldn’t happen to be in the patch I showed you a few weeks ago, would they?”

  “Uh…so what if they were?” asked Jevon.

  “I’d say that you definitely owe me a bucket of those berries if you don’t want me telling Darius that you’re going to that patch,” said Alex.

  “Okay — so there’s some kind of a catch you didn’t let me know about back at the bakery?” asked Jennifer. “You tricked me?”

  “Look — Patricia tries to stop Grizzlyfir from getting into any shizz with the guys from Hemlock, so if she knew where I was taking you, I think she wouldn’t’ve let you go,” said Jevon. “I’ll drive you back to the bakery if you want.”

  “I don’t know if I want to get driven back, because I have no clue what you two are going on about,” said Jennifer, putting the muffins down in the big, old kitchen, before crossing her arms.

  “Fair,” said Jevon. “Look — there are berries, good berries, on this mountain, but…”

  “But what?” asked Jennifer.

  “They’re kinda…on private property,” said Jevon, reaching back to scratch his head. “The private property happens to belong to Hemlock Crew.”

  “So, you’re saying we just can’t get caught,” said Jennifer.

  “You’re down to do this?” asked
Jevon.

  “I thought that like, the berries were secretly poisonous, or would magically turn me into a bear forever, or something weird like that,” said Jennifer. “They’re just normal berries we have to steal? Look. Stealing’s not right. But I am sure that Patricia can work something out with Hemlock Crew tomorrow so we can get a steady supply of berries. I want to use them first before we sign up for some deal with that crew. They’re not going to shoot at us if they catch us, will they?”

  “No frikkin’ way,” said Alex. “I’ve been caught a handful of times — in my shift — and never gotten so much as a pawful of birdshot. You two will be fine. But, uh — there’s always a first time for everything, so just…don’t get caught. You can find the buckets out back, Jevon — and don’t forget the gloves. Those wild berries have gnarly thorns.”

  “Thanks, Alex,” said Jevon.

  “Don’t forget — you owe me a bucket,” said Alex pointedly. “Grab two sack lunches on your way out.”

  “I know, I know,” said Jevon. “Come on. This way.”

  Jevon led Jennifer out the back entrance of the kitchen, grabbing two lunch bags on the way out. There was a shed full of equipment. Jevon got Jennifer fitted with gloves and grabbed three buckets.

  “What about you?” asked Jennifer, carrying nothing, as Jevon had insisted on carrying the buckets, the lunches, and the gloves. “Don’t you need gloves?”

  “Bears don’t need gloves,” said Jevon. “Well, unless we’re playing baseball.”

  Jennifer and Jevon got back in Jevon’s truck. Jevon pulled out of the drive and got back onto the ‘main road’ up the mountain. He passed by the sign reading ‘Hemlock Crew’ and crawled further up the mountain before taking a sudden turn down an unmarked bumpy path. Jennifer held onto her seat as the truck bounced up and down the trail. Once they stopped, Jennifer and Jevon had quick lunch — sandwiches, sodas, chips, and apples for dessert — and Jennifer put on the boots and her gloves, chatting with Jevon all the while.

  Jennifer had a hard time getting the hiking boots on. She had to loosen the laces because her feet were wider than Patricia’s. That’s why she didn’t notice the bear.

  Jennifer looked up.

  That’s when she noticed the bear.