Cabin Fever Page 2

  “Tanner Reign, checking in. Can you tell me if my friends have arrived? Cabot French, Wells Martin, and Archer McLean?”

  “Yes, they arrived about an hour ago.” The front desk clerk smiled at me. “I believe they said they’d be in the Cave.”

  “Thank you.” I took the small envelope with my room key card and shoved it in my back pocket. I’d researched the Presidential up and down and knew the Cave was a bar and lounge located in what used to be the hotel’s wine cellar.

  We usually tried to get together once or twice a year, but with last year being a complete and total cluster fuck, I hadn’t seen my brothers since Homecoming in the fall of 2019.

  The Cave was hopping. Tammy Wynette was singing “Stand by Your Man” on an ancient jukebox. Unfortunately, I had no man to stand by. I’d been a late bloomer when it came to dating. My entire focus had been on my education instead of getting as much dick as I could. My bad.

  Raucous laughter erupted from a table near the bar. I stayed back for a minute, watching the best friends I’d ever had in my life laugh with each other. Cabot had been my roommate freshman year at MIT. We’d been like two peas in a pod from day one. He was short, with dark brown hair and eyes with a baby face. He was twenty-six years old, but I swear he could pass for nineteen. Wells and Archer had also bunked together freshman year but lived in a different dorm. Wells was blonde and blue eyed with an affinity for chocolate. His expanding waistline bore testament to his love for truffles. Archer, on the other hand, was skinny as a rail with the most intense pair of green eyes I’d ever seen. “Hey, guys!” I greeted when I reached their table.

  “Tanner! We thought you’d gotten eaten by a bear.” Cabot gave me a rough hug.

  “Not true,” Wells grinned, taking his turn to hug the stuffing out of me. “My guess was that you’d been abducted by a Yeti.”

  Maybe the box of chocolates in my suitcase, with his name on them, hadn’t been the best idea. “I may have gotten a little-”

  “Lost!” my three friends chimed in.

  I felt myself blushing but couldn’t care less. My friends knew and loved me, warts and all. Cabot spent years making sure I knew where I was going, with varying degrees of success. All of my friends had sent me directions to the hotel, but it hadn’t mattered. I’d gotten lost anyway. Twice.

  “What did I miss?” I grabbed the pitcher of beer in the center of the table and poured myself a glass.

  “We’ve all been trying to comfort Cabot.” Wells winked at me.

  “Jon broke up with you again?” Cabot had been seeing Jon Patterson off and on for the last three years. Just when things would settle down between them, Jon would cheat, and the cycle would start anew.

  Cabot shook his head. “I ended it for good this time. He slept with a coworker of mine and that was the end of it.”

  From the look in Cabot’s dark eyes, that wasn’t the end of the story, but I wasn’t going to push for details now. We had plenty of time later to hash over what happened with Jon. “I’m so sorry.”

  Cabot shrugged his thin shoulders. “It’s not like you all didn’t warn me. Multiple times.”

  Archer snorted. “We did everything but hire a plane to tow a banner.”

  “Lord knows you did. My Mom too, but I had to learn the hard way.”

  “Bullshit!” Damn, I’d sucked down that first beer faster than I thought, plus I hadn’t had any lunch, since I’d been lost and didn’t want to arrive any later than I already would.

  “Two orders of hot wings and garlic knots.” Archer said when the waitress responded to his waving hand. “We all know you didn’t eat.” He rolled his eyes at me. “I believe you objected with a strong ‘Bullshit!’?”

  “It’s bullshit thinking anyone has to learn a lesson the hard way. Jon took advantage of your kind nature for years. It’s not your fault that you believed him when he promised he was going to change.” Again, and again, I added to myself.

  “Yeah, well, it’s over for good now.” Cabot drained the last of his beer. “I’ll get the next round.” He grabbed the pitcher and headed to the bar before I could stop him.

  “Seriously, is he okay? The last time I heard from him was just after Thanksgiving when he was going to give Jon another chance.”

  Wells shook his head no. “Something else happened this time.” His eyes flitted from mine to the bar where our friend was ordering more beer. “Cabot looks haunted, instead of sad or angry. I swear, if I ever get my hands on that fucker, I’ll tear him apart.”

  I burst out laughing. The one time Wells got into a fight in college, he’d broken his thumb because it had been on the inside of his fist when he’d punched Douggie Smith after dear old stupid Douggie accused Wells of stealing his Star Trek DVDs. Wells had been completely innocent of the crime but ended up in the ER anyway. To this day, I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d been the one who’d stolen the DVDs. Captain Kirk was my jam. “You’re going to tear him apart?”

  Archer started massaging his shoulders as if Wells were about to jump into a prize fighting ring. “I’m trying to get him into CrossFit.”

  “Fat chance.” Wells waved a hand in the air while Archer and I laughed.

  CrossFit explained why Archer looked like he had no body fat. I assumed he was training for the Boston Marathon. “What do we do?”

  “We eat, drink, and check out the Marys.” Cabot set down the pitcher of beer with a flourish. “Like that bear at the jukebox. Tell my mother I love her.” He winked at me before sauntering over to the man who was well over six feet with a lumberjack beard. All that was missing was a buffalo-plaid shirt and a blue ox.

  “Looks like he landed on his feet.” Archer twisted around in his seat. “Like the cat he is.”

  I wasn’t so sure. It had been a rough road for Cabot and Jon. Years of rough roads. I didn’t think an enormous bear of a man was the answer to Cabot’s problems. When the jukebox started playing “Almost Paradise”, I changed my mind. The bear linked pinkie fingers with Cabot as he escorted him to his own table. What the hell did I know about love anyway?

  “Oh, fuck no!” Wells covered his ears. “Worst fucking song of the entire eighties.”

  “Wrong!” Archer shook his head. “It’s ‘We Built this City.’”

  Archer had a point. “‘Almost Paradise’ was the worst song. ‘We Built this City’ was the worst earworm.”

  “Jesus, they’re kissing!” Wells’s left hand fluttered to his lips.

  “Jealous?” I asked, already knowing the answer. We were all jealous. Christ, the last time a man kissed me was months ago. George was an amazing barista, but he’d gnawed on my dick like it was a piece of beef jerky.

  “Now what?” Archer asked as Cabot and the bear headed toward the exit. He waggled his fingers at us.

  I paused my answer while the waitress set down the food. “Anyone want to hear the story about my shark blowjob?”

  Archer squealed with laughter. “Were you on the giving or receiving end?” His lips twisted into a sympathetic grimace.

  “Receiving.” My own dirty look matched Archer. “You’ll never believe who was on the giving end.”

  Wells and Archer leaned forward over the table. Merriment danced in their eyes. This was the reason we had these reunions. Friendship. Camaraderie. Love. Gossip.

  It didn’t get much better than this.

  2

  Kodi

  I never felt as free as I did when running through an open meadow before dawn in bear form. With my sharpened senses, I could smell individual pine needles, see hidden owls, and feel the vibrations of field mice scurrying out of my way.

  My muscles bunched and rippled as my body pounded through the woods. Thankfully, there was no snow on the dry ground. Leaving tell-tale paw prints was a bad idea.

  Being a Kodiak bear, nearly three thousand miles from home, in New England had its challenges. I couldn’t shift and prowl around the woods during the day because eagle-eyed wildlife photographers would know I d
idn’t belong in the woods of New Hampshire. Most bears begin hibernating in November, so seeing an out-of-place bear during the wrong time of year could quickly unravel the life I’d made for myself over the last four years.

  When I was banished from the Sitka Clan, I decided to get as far away from home as possible. The South was out because the weather was too hot. I wasn’t a fan of the flatlands of the Midwest. New England seemed like the perfect fit. The White Mountains were a popular tourist destination, but there were still plenty of wide-open spaces for a bear to roam. Especially during the off-season.

  The only problem with my new home was that there wasn’t a lot of industry in the mountains with the exception of tourism and New Hampshire Fish and Game. Thankfully, the money I’d saved from my job in Alaska, plus the inheritance from my father, was enough to help me buy a small cabin in the woods and let me work toward becoming a game warden.

  My uncle might have been able to steal my birthright, but not even with all his power and influence was he able to steal my inheritance. He tried to have the will invalidated, but it was upheld. I wept for joy when the check arrived.

  Putting my family behind me wasn’t as hard as I expected it would be. None of my brothers or sisters stood up for me against Cedric that awful day in the hospital, or during the time it took to settle my affairs and leave town.

  What hurt more than my family deserting me, was having to leave my dreams behind. I had so many plans for the clan once I became leader. Ideas that would have made us a more progressive people. Before I’d left home, I’d burned my plans in the fireplace. I wanted my new life to be a complete fresh start.

  I’d gotten exactly what I asked for, and then some. These last three years as a game warden had been a dream come true.

  Running full steam ahead, my cozy log cabin came into view. Finding it had been my biggest stroke of luck so far. It had come on the market the day I walked into the real estate office. I fell in love with it at first sight, offering ten thousand over the asking price in the hope my offer would be accepted. Two weeks later, the cabin was mine.

  Reaching the front porch, I shifted back into human form. Aside from the winding driveway that led to the cabin, the property was surrounded by the woods. The White Mountain National Forest on one side and the back end of the Presidential Hotel’s land on the other. In the four years I’d lived here, I’d never seen another person stumble onto my property.

  After a quick shower, I was on my way to work. New Hampshire Fish and Game resources were divided among four regions of the state. My field office was part of the Lakes and Central New Hampshire region, which covered the entire middle section of the state. The office was in Bretton Woods, half a mile down the street from the Presidential’s main entrance.

  It took thirty minutes from the time I got in the shower until I walked through the office door. All in all, not a bad commute, considering it had been an hour to the fish processing plant in Alaska, if the ferry was on time.

  The streets were still dark when I pulled my truck onto Base Station Road. Turning right would take me to the base station of the Mount Washington Cog Railroad, while turning left would bring me into town.

  Bill Freedman’s truck was in the parking lot when I pulled in, which meant there would be a box of donuts and fresh coffee from the Dunkin’ Donuts in North Conway. His commute was an hour long on the best of days. On the worst, he grabbed a room at a local motel so he’d be able to get into work safely and on time.

  “Morning, Bill,” I called out as I shrugged out of my heavy coat. This was going to be one of those crazy New England days where the high temperature of the day, twenty-five degrees, would be in the morning. The temperature was mild this morning, if you were a bear shifter or had lived your entire life in Alaska.

  “Hey, Kodi. There’s donuts on the counter and coffee’s on your desk.” Bill shook his head. “Tonight’s gonna be a bitch. Latest forecast upped the snowfall total. Could get two feet before the end of the storm.”

  Just another day in paradise. There was nothing I loved more than running in the snow. I had to be careful to get out early so any paw prints I left would be covered over. “You staying in town tonight?”

  “Yeah, had a skirmish with Cindy this morning. The night apart will do us good.” Bill cracked a smile.

  I couldn’t help smiling back. Bill and Cindy had a skirmish every six weeks or so. He said it did wonders for their twenty-year marriage, but I wasn’t so sure. But then again, the longest relationship I’d ever been in was with my right hand.

  Bill and Cindy were the first friends I made in town. Cindy was a kindergarten teacher, and Bill had been in the Army before settling down in the mountains. In addition to being a teacher, Cindy loved to bake. At least once a week, Bill brought in banana bread or cookies for me to take home and more to share with the office buzzards.

  “Do I want to know what the fight was about?” I peeled back the vent on my coffee before taking a sip.

  “Baking.” Bill rolled his green eyes. “All she wants to watch are those goddammed baking shows on Netflix. I wanted to catch a few episodes of Schitt’s Creek, but no, we had to watch some Brits bake biscuits, which are actually cookies.” He stood from his seat to stretch his arms over his head. I couldn’t help noticing the way his tight uniform pants clung to his ass.

  Aside from the fact that Bill was straight, he was exactly my type of man. He was five-seven, at the most, with greying dark hair buzzed close. He had a quick wit, but dubious taste in television. I loved The Great British Baking Show and hated Schitt’s Creek. Well, the two episodes I’d seen of it. “Why didn’t you compromise?”

  Bill started to laugh. “Here’s a life hack for you, kid. Compromise in a marriage means that you do everything she wants in the vain hope she’ll suck your dick.”

  No one at work knew I was gay or a bear or a gay bear. “Did she?” Christ I was quickly slipping down a rabbit hole I didn’t want to get stuck in.

  Bill raised an eyebrow. “No, there was no dick sucking. Just more episodes about bread and frosting, and some fucking meat pie that nearly gave me a heart attack from just looking at it. Fucking thing was a foot tall.” He held his hand over his desk to demonstrate the height.

  Maybe I just wasn’t relationship material. I had no idea why what to watch on Netflix led to no sex and a fight between spouses. Were they the kind of people who liked to fight because they liked making up even more? I was about to ask when the phone rang.

  I grabbed my second donut while Bill responded to the call. It didn’t sound good.

  “Truck hit a deer on purpose, witnesses are saying. Let’s head out.” Bill shook his head.

  “Out-of-towners or someone local?” I asked. We’d had a rash of kids who thought it was funny to run over wildlife for fun.

  “Not sure.” Bill slipped into his heavy winter jacket.

  According to the thermometer on the side of the building, it was twenty-two degrees. This was the promised temperature drop. It was only going to get colder from here. What was worse was I could smell snow in the air, and we were in for a lot more than the promised two feet.

  Unless I missed my guess, we were in for a blizzard.

  3

  Tanner

  The problem with being the responsible friend in the group is that I was the only one awake and ready to go for a hike. No one answered when I knocked on Archer’s door. Wells looked like he’d been shot out of a cannon. I told him I was going for a walk. I had no idea where Cabot and the hunky bear from last night ended up. I sent him a text asking if he’d woken up in a bathtub full of ice, but I didn’t get an answer. He was either dead or dead-tired from being ridden hard and put away wet.

  Not that I was jealous. Well, not much, anyway. That guy last night was exactly my type. If Cabot hadn’t spotted him first, I would have made my move. Eventually. I’d never been good at being forward with men. It was one of those pesky faults I needed to change in myself if I didn’t want to end up a
spinster. Or whatever the hell the gay equivalent was.

  A sad, old queen, my mind supplied.

  Christ, I was only twenty-six, I wasn’t ready for the scrap heap just yet.

  My stomach rumbled as I reached for my new L.L. Bean snow parka. I’d ordered it in the fall, but this was the first time I’d worn it. This was a heavy-duty coat for when temperatures dipped into the twenties and below. The catalog description said the coat was good to negative forty degrees Fahrenheit, but I didn’t want to find out if that was the case. According to the weather app on my phone, it was a crisp twenty-seven degrees outside. I could live with that. At least for a little while. Grabbing my hat and gloves, I patted myself down for my room key. It was in my back pocket. I had one hand on the doorknob when my stomach grumbled again. I doubled back for a protein bar, which I shoved in my coat pocket. I didn’t plan on being gone long.

  The lobby of the Presidential was a beehive of activity. The main dining room was full of families enjoying breakfast, while other guests were scattered around the large stone fireplaces, some chatting, while others read the morning newspaper.

  “Mr. Reign?” a handsome gentleman from the front desk motioned to me.

  “Good morning, Paul.” I read his name from his nametag. “Is there a message from Mr. French?”

  The young man blushed before pushing a note to me across the desk. My eyes widened as I read the words: Biggest dick ever. I looked from the note back to the desk clerk who’d started to squirm. ‘Biggest dick ever’ had two definite meanings. Cabot could have at least had the decency to indicate which one he meant. “I’m so sorry to ask this, but did Mr. French sound angry or…” Or what? Blissed out? Horny? Maddeningly happy? “In some sort of distress?”

  “He sounded worn out and strangely proud of himself.” Paul grimaced at me.

  That explained it. The stranger was well hung and not a complete asshole. I felt better for a minute. Why the hell hadn’t Cabot called or texted me? Why had he called the hotel instead? “Did he mention if his phone was missing?”