The Birthday Bear

Chapter 1Gabriel Callan had a huge problem—or more like a hand’s breadth below six feet sized problem, and Gabe had pretty big hands. Wide and strong. The size didn’t matter, though. Not on his hands, and not on Riley. The problem was Riley was here, and whenever he was, Gabe had to force himself not to grab him and take him with him home where he belonged. Riley was his. He’d known it the moment he’d seen him over a year ago, but Riley was not ready. He was doing better, much better, but he wasn’t ready for any you’re-mine-and-will-be-mine-for-the-rest-of-your-life kind of talk. He didn’t know there were other species than humans, didn’t have a clue Raphael, who’d been the only one he’d dared talk to in the beginning, was a bear shifter. Gabe carried a sheet of loaves out to the shelf behind the counter. He didn’t look at Riley, but a shiver went through him when he talked. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, and I thought I’d bring a consolation prize.” Gabe glanced in Riley’s direction as he scanned the display shelves in the bakery. His bakery. Callan’s—short and simple. All his life he’d dreamed about having a bakery, and now he did. He and Raphael owned it together. Raphael’s mate, Laura, worked there too, as did Quillian. Laura and Quillian weren’t bears, but they’d formed a sleuth together—although no one but Raphael and Gabe called it a sleuth. Rook called it a pack, which it was not. They weren’t wolves. Or Rook was, but one wolf didn’t turn the sleuth into a pack. Quillian was a panther, which didn’t turn the sleuth into a pack either. Rook didn’t work in the bakery. He only lived with them…and was part of the sleuth. Laura was a half-breed, which meant people wanted to kill her. Quillian was queer, which meant people wanted to kill him. Rook also liked c**k, so the same fate there, and Gabe…He sighed and looked longingly at Riley. “Okay, how many will attend?” Raphael looked at the display shelf, too. “Me and my boss. The big boss, not Linda.” Raphael nodded, and Gabe risked a glance at Riley. His honey-colored curls made him look younger than he was. He was young, but not young enough to make it creepy. Or was it? Gabriel would turn forty-one in a week, and Riley was twenty-nine. It was creepy, wasn’t it? He was a forty-year-old man lusting after a twenty-something-year-old. He groaned, and Raphael turned to stare at him. He shrugged in reply. “How about bear claws?” Riley popped his hip. “I’m not sure. I want something that says thank you for your attention, but I won’t suck your d**k. Claws might give the wrong impression.” Raphael huffed, spluttered, then chuckled. “Erm…has he—” He glanced over his shoulder at Gabe, who was taking nice deep breaths. “—indicated…?” “Yeah.” Riley dragged it out. “Hinted at a change in staff, and yeah…” Raphael’s curses drowned out most of Gabe’s growl, but Riley sent him a quick look, not meeting his eyes. He never looked into Gabe’s eyes. Gabe had better get his ass back into the kitchen before he did something stupid. His feet didn’t move. “Sooo.” Raphael looked at the shelves. “Snickerdoodles?” “I don’t want to get fired! Also, I think we need something manlier. He’s the alpha male type.” Raphael straightened, and Gabe was so glad he was the one having this conversation and not Gabe. He’d never spoken to Riley. Raphael talked to the customers, he baked. “Alpha male?” “Not the good type, not worthy of a romance novel.” Gabe momentarily closed his eyes. “I see.” “I knew you’d understand! So manly cookies that can’t be interpreted as a come-on?” “Chocolate biscotti?” “Oh, you’re cute for trying. I’ll have some macarons.” Raphael looked over his shoulder once again and met Gabe’s gaze before turning back to Riley. “Macarons are manly?” “No.” “You said you needed manly cookies.” Riley rolled his eyes. “I know, but then I figured if I cater too much to his needs, he might think he can bully me into sucking his d**k, and I don’t want to.” “And chocolate biscotti would do that?” Gabe almost smiled at the confusion in Raphael’s voice. Almost. Riley stared into Raphael’s eyes, or Gabe assumed he did since he looked straight at him but didn’t move a muscle otherwise. If it hadn’t been for Riley having done it before, Gabe would’ve feared he suffered a stroke or something. Humans were weird creatures. “Isn’t your job cakes and cookies?” Raphael huffed again. “It is.” “Chocolate biscotti is obviously trying too hard.” “Obviously?” Riley nodded. “Obviously.” “And macarons aren’t trying too hard?” The honey curls danced when Riley shook his head. “No, they say I’m here, I’m queer, but I’m not worth the investment of taking a bite!” Oh, help me God. Gabe pulled in a deep breath and waited. Raphael cleared his throat. “You don’t like the taste of macarons?” “I don’t dislike it, but it doesn’t make the top ten of cookies, does it? Everyone knows you buy them because they’re pretty to look at, not the taste.” “I see.” Raphael dragged it out. “How about eclairs?” He gestured at the shelf. “We’re trying to avoid having to suck c**k, remember? I’m really not in the mood.” Raphael barked a laugh. “Gotcha. How many macarons?” “Again, do you work with cookies or not?” “We normally recommend two to three per person.” Riley sighed dramatically. “Then why did you ask? Give me six in various colors.” Raphael grabbed a small box and did as told. While he rang them up, tension crept into Riley. Gabe couldn’t look away from the way his hand shook when he slipped his credit card into the reader. “Good luck at the meeting.” Raphael waved at him as he headed for the exit, and it wasn’t until the door closed behind him, that he turned to Gabe. “Do you think he was serious?” “About not being in the mood to suck d**k?” Raphael threw a teaspoon at him. “No, i***t, about his boss trying to get him to do it? Had I known the boss would be an ass, I never would’ve asked Linda to hire him.” Gabe grunted. Raphael knew Linda, the head librarian or something at the library. When Riley had stumbled into the bakery, beaten black and blue and without a penny to his name, Raphael had helped him. Gabe had been locked in the kitchen. All it took was one moment to know someone was your mate, and Rook and Quillian had more or less had to tie him down not to storm out there and claim Riley. Riley was his, and someone had hurt him. In retrospect, it had been smart of the others to intervene. Having a growling bear going caveman on you when you’d been let out of the hospital an hour earlier after having been beaten half to death by your ex-boyfriend wasn’t ideal. He could’ve lost Riley then and there. If he’d disappeared into the night and had never come back, Gabe didn’t know what he’d have done. He didn’t know what to do now either, but at least Riley dropped by the bakery almost every day. They didn’t know much about him. He loved to read, and he’d been in an escalating abusive relationship with some dickhead who was still breathing. Had Gabe gotten his wish, he wouldn’t be anymore, but both Rook and Raphael thought they had too much to lose to make him quit the habit. Raphael had taken Riley under his wing—since he was family and all. Riley didn’t know it yet, but one day he’d realize he was part of the family. Laura had managed to find a one-room apartment on top of a garage farther up the street, and Raphael had gotten him a part-time job at the library, also within walking distance. “Can we kill him if he tries to make Riley suck his d**k?” Gabe was concentrating hard on not losing his cool. This last year had been a challenge in control, and he deserved a f*****g reward for his restraint. “No.” Gabe growled, remembering too late there might be customers in the building. He leaned over the counter and looked at the tables and chairs. One college kid with headphones on, a pile of books, and a large coffee. His head bounced lightly in rhythm to the music he was listening to. Raphael gave him an unimpressed look. “We’re trying not to draw attention to ourselves, remember? Our lives depending on it and all.” Gabe flashed teeth. “Charming. We’ll ask how the meeting went when he comes in, and if he hints at something, we’ll hire him. We could use a pair of extra hands.” “We should move him into the house.” Gabe wanted him close. “When he’s ready.” Raphael rubbed his neck. “If the meeting goes bad, we’ll have to consider our options.” Hope built in Gabe’s chest. If the fucker molested Riley, then surely, Gabe could kill him. * * * * Riley Irving was a magnet for trouble. It had to be true since he went out of his way to avoid it, and yet it always found him. All he wanted was a quiet life. A safe, slow, boring life. He didn’t want any adventures other than those he could read about in a romance novel. He didn’t want Prince Charming—a total lie, but he’d never admit it, not in a hundred years. The problem was he might want a white knight, alien prince, or pirate king to come and rescue him. He was the perfect damsel in distress, but he didn’t want anyone in his personal space. Everyone needed to stay at arm’s length, literally, which made it hard for his hero to rescue him. Novels were enough. He didn’t need more. He liked people. Loved talking to harmless, kind people. Preferably those who read romance books or liked pretty cupcakes. They didn’t have to like cupcakes, though who in their right mind didn’t like cupcakes? They were like mini cakes. Edible pieces of art. He didn’t want to spend time with anyone telling him he couldn’t have whatever he wanted on the display shelf in whatever coffee shop he entered, and he didn’t want to be near anyone who leered at him. Which was exactly what Douglas Collins, the library manager, was doing right now. “Mr. Irving.” Riley looked over his shoulder, almost expecting his father to stand there. It would’ve been a plot twist he hadn’t seen coming. The coercing into giving the boss a blowjob, sure. His dad being in the same building as him, no way. When Riley looked back at Mr. Collins, he was giving him a bemused smile. “Call me Riley, sir.” Mr. Collins nodded. His gaze locked on Riley’s mouth. They hadn’t talked many times, but whenever they were in the same room, Mr. Collins was either staring at his mouth or his ass. “How long have you been with us, Riley?” Riley frowned. Surely, he could check the paper in front of him if he wanted to know. Riley could see it had all his information. “I…eh…started back in May.” When Mr. Collins raised his eyebrows as if waiting for something, Riley tagged on a “Sir.” It earned him a smile and a nod, but it made Riley shudder. Mark had always wanted him to call him sir when they f****d. The shudder turned into icy cold vines spreading through him. “So seven months?” Six and a half, but Riley nodded. “Linda tells me you’ve been doing a good job.” “Thank you.” Mr. Collins waited again, and Riley squirmed. “Sir.” This time, it wasn’t more than a whisper. “Sweet boy.” Ugh, no, no boy. He’d turn thirty in January but felt like a hundred. He was so ready for retirement, it wasn’t even funny. And he preferred not to think about the sir-boy dynamic. To each their own, as long as he didn’t have to play. “Sadly, there are budget cuts on the horizon. After New Year, we’ll have to let one of you go. It’ll be either you or Hadley.” Riley nodded. Hadley was educated. She worked part-time, as he did, but it was because she had children and wanted to be there when they finished school for the day. She was a real librarian, though. Riley was a f**k-up who’d gotten a job because the only smart thing he’d done in his life was to stumble into Callan’s that night. He’d had nowhere to go, and he’d seen a handsome dark-haired man with massive shoulders behind the counter who had laughed at something a small, fine-limbed man with pink highlights in his hair had said. Riley had figured if the man could laugh with a pink-haired twink, he most likely wouldn’t have a problem with Riley nursing a cup of coffee until his feet thawed. He’d realized since then twink wasn’t the right word to describe Rook, and small…He was almost a head taller than Riley. He’d only looked small because Raphael was massive. Fine-limbed? Riley might have been wrong there, too. He didn’t have the bulging muscles the Callan brothers had, but he was f*****g ripped. It didn’t matter. Stepping into Callan’s was still the best thing he’d ever done. Raphael had served him hot cocoa and a cinnamon roll and had refused to let him pay. Which was good, since the twenty in his pocket was all he had. He didn’t remember much about how he’d ended up there, and he believed he might have cried and tried to punch Raphael when he touched him. They still didn’t touch, but Raphael had helped him through a lot. “So I can only keep one of you.” Riley jumped, dragged back into the moment by Mr. Collins’ deep voice. Damn, had it been that deep before? “Have a macaron, Mr. Collins.” Riley placed the box Raphael had handed him on the desk. “A…” He stared at the box, then ignored it. “As I said, one of you will have to go.” “I understand. Hadley is doing a great job, and she’s a real librarian.” Mr. Collins nodded slowly; his gaze once again fixed on Riley’s mouth. “But maybe you have other qualities?” “Nope, can’t say I do. I’ve only ever worked minimum-wage kind of jobs, no higher education.” Thrown out as a teen did that to you. Or now he was being unfair to his dad. He could’ve stayed, but after a month of there not being a plate at his seat at the table, and no one saying so much as a word to him, he figured it was best to leave. He supposed he should be happy Brandon, his brother, only had seen him kiss Kevin from two streets over and not walked in on them with Kevin’s c**k buried in Riley’s throat. He sighed. Magnet for trouble. “But you can provide favors that don’t require any higher education.” Riley stared at him. Pathetic. “I have until January, right? It would give me two months to find a new job.” And the apartment he rented might be dirt cheap—he suspected Raphael had cut some kind of deal with the old lady who owned it because he should pay more—but he still didn’t have anything left at the end of the month. He needed a job with more hours. “We haven’t decided who to keep yet. I haven’t interviewed Hadley.” “With all due respect, sir.” He ignored the pleased smile taking over Mr. Collins’ lips. “Hadley is educated, she has a family to feed, and she’s worked here longer. The decision is obvious.” Mr. Collins frowned. “But maybe I could ask for a budget increase.” “It would be awesome, but we both know times are hard.” Riley glanced at the door. He wanted out of here. “But if I did, you’d be grateful.” Riley glared at him. It took a second or two before Mr. Collins tore his gaze away from Riley’s mouth. “I’m not gonna blow you, no matter how you spin this.” Mr. Collins spluttered. “You c**k-sucking slut, how can you accuse me of s****l harassment?” Riley sighed. “I didn’t. I said we weren’t going there.” But considering he brought it up, he was fully aware of what he was doing. Fucker. And c**k-sucking slut? He knew nothing about Riley.