It was Wednesday morning, but Candy still couldn’t get over what had happened on Saturday night. Cain had been in her house with her. He’d done so many nice things for her — bringing her a tree, making her soup and hot cocoa. Why hadn’t he taken things further? Why had he just left, instead of claiming her then and there?

Maybe there was something to that mark on his shoulder. Maybe Cain really was ‘Naughty.’ Maybe there was something inside him that refused to play by the rules. Was it Cain, or was it his shift?

Candy thought about the mark and sighed. She knew how mate marks worked. Practically everyone who lived in a big city full of shifters did. Although Candy hadn’t interacted much with shifters, given her busy and relatively insular life in San Francisco, a few of her friends had dated shifters. The mark was meant to tell a shifter who their fated mate was, and, when a shifter first ‘claimed’ their mate, sexually, the mark would do…something. Candy was fuzzy on the details.

How had a shifter like Cain gone all these years without claiming a fated mate? He was always around literal models. How had he not fallen for one of the women he posed with?

Candy had no more time to think about silly questions. The front door to the bakery opened. The bells tied to the front door jingled. In walked a familiar face who was wearing a shirt, for once.

Cain walked up to the empty counter. The cafe was nearly empty. He leaned down to get on Candy’s level.

“You feel okay?” asked Cain.

“Y-yeah, why?” asked Candy.

“I’m just making sure you haven’t caught a bug,” said Cain. “You’re bright pink. Are you running a fever?”

Cain took the back of his hand and pressed it against Candy’s forehead. Candy’s heart started racing. Cain was touching her again. His grip was firm but gentle. As he pulled his hand back, Candy caught site of his hands. She knew Cain was a shifter. She’d sworn someone had mentioned he was a bear shifter. Candy had never seen marks like his before. The marks on his hands didn’t resemble the pawprint of a bear. Every bear shifter she’d ever met had those pawprints, callus-like marks on their hands that remained when a shifter turned back into a human. Cain’s marks were dark, but they weren’t in the shape of a pawprint. They were almost like sets of teardrops, dotted at their bases.

“Something wrong?” asked Cain.

“Nothing, sorry,” said Candy. “What can I get you?”

“Something real sweet,” said Cain. “What do you like?”

“I like the sugar cookies,” admitted Candy. “That’s not exactly a good breakfast item, though.”

“Maybe if I have half a dozen of them, that’ll fill me up,” said Cain. “Can I get half a dozen of the sugar cookies and a large iced coffee?”

“You sure you want iced coffee?” asked Candy.

“I can’t exactly chug a hot coffee, now can I?” asked Cain.

“Oh, right, of course,” said Candy. “Alright. Just take a seat, and I’ll bring you your order.”

Cain took a seat. Candy rang up his order and put the receipt in the special drawer used for Krampus’ receipts. She brought the food and a cup up to Cain.

“What’s this?” asked Cain, looking at the plate next to the bag of cookies.

“I made you a breakfast sandwich,” said Candy. “I told you, sugar cookies aren’t exactly a breakfast food. You need your energy.”

“Well, then thank you kindly,” said Cain. He turned the breakfast sandwich over and peeled off the bottom piece of white bread. He put a sugar cookie on the sandwich and put the bread back on the bottom of the sandwich. He flipped the sandwich over and did the same thing with the top of the sandwich. Then, he chewed.

“Did you really just put two sugar cookies in your sandwich?” asked Candy, crossing her arms.

“What can I say,” teased Cain. “I’m a beast with a sweet tooth. What about you, Candy? Do you want sweet things too? Or are you more into spicy stuff?”

“I, uh, well, you see…” started Candy, blushing. She’d been hit with another case of the ‘Cain makes it impossible to talk to him when he says dirty stuff’ disease, for which there was no cure.

“Yes?” asked Cain.

Masterful, said Vixen. Bravo.

I think causing Candy to lose her speech capabilities isn’t exactly the way to winning her heart, said Cain.

Are you frikkin’ kidding me? Vixen asked incredulously. That’s how you know that what you’re doing is working.

Before Candy could figure out an answer, somebody else interjected.

“Candy!” called a voice from the back. “Got a second?”

“Work calls,” said Candy. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

Avery walked into the cafe area.

“Hey Cain,” said Avery. “Krampus is waiting for you in the back, so finish up or pack that up to go. He’s in a hurry today. Something about you owing him pushups.”

Avery walked Candy out to the small seating area in the front of the bakery. Cain went to the back of the bakery to meet with Krampus.

“Was I interrupting anything?” asked Avery.

“I wish,” said Candy. “I mean. No. I mean…”

“Don’t worry about it. How’re things going with the marketing ideas?” asked Avery.

“I have a weird idea,” said Candy. “My burlesque group back in San Francisco, well, what they did was they put on a special ‘Christmas pageant’ every year. This was R rated stuff, but it brought in a lot of business.”

“I don’t exactly follow,” admitted Avery. “You think we should hire strippers or something? I know of this great bear shifter themed strip club, Bear Buns, but I don’t know if they’d come out here to promote some dinky bakery.”

“Not exactly,” said Candy. “What if we had a sexy Santa, instead of a mall Santa, and had an after-hours, adults-only party, where all the moms could let loose?”

“You may be onto something here,” said Avery. “All these moms are feeling absolutely pooped.”

“You’re telling me,” said Candy. “Imagine my surprise when all these sweet ladies have been ordering coffee strong enough for frikkin’ Krampus. I think that a night off might do them some good.”

“It’d drum up business for the bakery for sure,” said Avery. “I’ll see about finding a babysitting service and renting out the community center.”

“The community center?” asked Candy.

“Well, yeah,” said Avery. “The bakery’s not big enough to host a mom rave.”

“Ah, gosh, you think it’s going to be a rave?” asked Candy. “I just thought we’d have some eggnog, some cookies, and they could take sassy pics on a sexy Santa’s lap!”

“If we’re going to do this, we have to do this big,” said Avery. “Speaking of big…what’s going on with you and the big guy?”

“The who and the what now?” asked Candy.

“What’s going on with you and Cain?” asked Avery. “Every day, you seem to get even more nervous around him. I thought you were a confident BBW who did burlesque dancing. I thought you could have any man wrapped around your finger with a swing of the hips and a snap of the fingers What the heck is going on?”

“Is my crush on him that obvious? He’s unlike any man I met back in San Francisco,” admitted Candy. “Obviously, I worked at a Bear Claw Bakery back in San Francisco, but, my bakery was in a tech startup area, and not one with a ton of shifters. After work, I spent a lot of my time practicing with my burlesque troupe, which is all female and doesn’t have any shifters in it. Most shifters aren’t like Cain. Most want to keep their mate marks hidden. I get it. Anyway…I don’t know how to deal with a guy like Cain. I know how to deal with techies that insist I got their order wrong when I know I got it right, but a big, burly, alpha male like Cain? Whew. I have no clue what to do about him.”

“He obviously likes you,” said Avery. “He asked your schedule. Didn’t you two go home together?”

“It’s so silly,” said Candy. “He brought me a Christmas tree, brought it to my house, set it up for me…and then, he left.”

“He didn’t try to…” started Avery.

“No,” said Candy. “I wish he had, honestly. He’s a hunk. There’s no denying it. I want him to open my Christmas box if you know what I mean.”

“You’re putting the ‘ho’ in ‘ho, ho, ho,’ aren’t you?” teased Avery. “Just kidding. I’ve just always wanted to say that!”

“Do you really think that pursuing Cain is a bad idea?” asked Candy.

“I never said that,” said Avery. “Sometimes, the best presents come in some ugly wrapping paper.”

“He’s not ugly,” said Candy.

“You know what I mean,” said Avery. “Big things can come in small packages, that sort of thing…but I supposed you want his ‘big thing’ to come in your ‘small package.’”

“Avery!” hissed Candy, blushing.

“Just pretend he’s naked,” said Avery. “Isn’t that a thing people do when they’re nervous?”

“I think imagining him naked is already half my problem,” admitted Candy.