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Emerson stirred, pulled from a musical dream: drums, beating steadily.

The sound was everywhere!

And so was … giggling?

The harvest mouse opened his groggy blue eyes.

“Huh? Wha-?”

His five-month-old daughter, Azalea, was kneeling by his shoulder, slapping her little, pink paws against his head.

“Oh.” He yawned, buckteeth jutting, gold-and-cream body stretching. “Morning, Zee.”

“Heee!” the infant mouse squealed happily. Slap-slap-slap! “Eek-a-eek-a-sqeeeeek!”

Emerson giggled. “Where’d you come from?”

Azalea ignored the question and doubled down on her father’s noggin, zeroing in on his face and giving him a good, old-fashioned whisker-tug. Followed by an overly friendly eye-poke.

“Ow!” Emerson frowned, squinting heavily. “Okay. Fun time’s over.” He pulled Azalea away, setting the infant on his bare, white-furred chest.

She giggled more, drawing an eventual smile from him.

He couldn’t be mad at her.

“Mommy put you here, didn’t she?”

As if summoned, Charlie, his lively fox squirrel mate, entered the bedroom with another baby in tow. The second of their two twins. Lifting him and dramatically proclaiming, “Ssssuper Squirrel! Zzzzzooooooom!” She ‘flew’ their son, EJ (Emerson Junior) to the bed and set him down with Emerson and Azalea.

EJ laughed and clapped his paws together, raising his miniature squirrel arms for more. His cute little tail fluffed about.

Charlie patted EJ’s head and sat on the bed, reeling in Emerson’s ropy, prehensile tail, which curled around her arm. “Mornin’, Emmy. Sleepy head! It’s not often I’m up before you!”

“They woke you early with their bawling,” he guessed, of the twins. “Wasn’t on your own volition.” The mouse, yawning, rubbed his cheeks and turned his head to look at the bedside radio-clock.

7:30.

It was mid-September, a Thursday, and he’d had a busy week of farmwork (with more to come). Soybeans were nearly ready for harvest. Corn was on the horizon, too. Hopefully, they’d get a good price for both! With the twins, their financial needs were greater now, and money from fall crops had to help carry them into spring.

“Vole-what?” Charlie repeated with an unworried blink. She was never worried. She released Emerson’s tail, and EJ and Azalea immediately wrestled for control of it. The squirrel broke them up. “No fights,” she told them, raising a finger. “Ya hear me?”

“Play with mommy’s tail. It’s way more interesting than mine,” Emerson told them.

“That the first thing you noticed ‘bout me, Emmy?” Charlie swished her bushy bronze-and-silver spotted appendage for show.

“You know it wasn’t … ”

“It wasn’t?” the fox squirrel echoed in a teasy, singsong tone. A grin. She already knew, telling the kids, “Heh. It was mommy’s boobs.”

They gurgled.

Emerson defended himself with an innocent smile. “You were asking for attention! Driving your uncle’s tractor next door, hitting all the bumps in the field?” The smile faded, replaced by a blush. “And not wearing a bra ... ”

“Don’t believe in ‘em!”

“Well, anyone would’ve noticed.”

“Bet you were thinkin’ ‘there’s the squirrel of my dreams! I’m gonna knock her up one day’.”

Before Emerson could answer, Azalea slapped EJ.

EJ chittered and barked.

“Watch your maw, young man,” Charlie warned.

Azalea looked at her mother, squeaking, all ‘bubbly and sweet.’

“Psh, mice are so good at playin’ innocent. You started it, missy!”

Emerson collected the twins with his arms, hugging them to his chest.

They soon wriggled away, squeaking and chittering, rolling all about. Their energy level was endless.

Emerson, giving up, yawned and asked Charlie, “What’ve you got planned today?”

“Me and the kiddos are gonna visit Auntie Queenie,” Charlie said brightly. “Aren’t we?” she cooed to EJ. “Aren’t we?”

‘Queenie’ was Seldovia, who owned a popular diner in town called (appropriately enough) ‘Queenie’s.’

The sultry, over-sexed skunk was Emerson’s old high school classmate … and ex-lover (years before he’d met Charlie, who was nearly a decade younger; 26 to 35). The three were on warm, friendly terms. So good that they had the occasional ‘threesome.’

“Are you making pies?”

“Yup! Today and tomorrow. For the Festival. She says she’ll sell almost forty! Most will be sold ‘by the slice,’ though.”

The Harvest Moon Festival was this weekend. An annual, fall-time celebration on Main Street Arcadia that celebrated, appropriately enough, harvest season. A one-weekend affair, it was the biggest party of the year! Bigger than the 4th of July parade (which was mostly tractors, followed by a community cookout in the park and fireworks at night).

Aside from food, there would be vendors, live music, and contests.

“Azalea!” Charlie chittered suddenly, diving in to catch the young mouse before she dove head-first off the edge of the bed. “Whew! They’re startin’ to crawl, now, Emmy. You gotta watch out! They’ll get away from you.”

“I’ve noticed,” Emerson said, stopping EJ from climbing up the bed-frame’s headboard. The baby squirrel whined, growing steadily cranky.

“I think you two need a nap already,” Charlie declared, pulling one offspring under each arm. The tomboy squirrel, slightly taller and heavier than Emerson, had worked on farms her whole life. Carrying kids (even wriggling ones) was easy compared to hay bales!

“I’ve already fed ‘em,” the squirrel said.

“Uh-huh,” Emerson said through another bucktoothed yawn, collecting his phone.

“I’ll put ‘em in their cribs and return with your breakfast.” She winked and swished her tail across his face before ducking out.

“Mm?”

The mouse blinked, putting the phone down.

Oh …

Five minutes later, the naked mouse was latched to one of Charlie’s nipples.

“Mmm, mouse-o,” the fox squirrel sighed, smiling happily. Propped up by pillows, she gripped his head-fur, combing it with her claws. “Heh, you’re gonna be harder to wean than the twins.”

Emerson pulled off, panting, “This … this was your idea.”

“And who’s going along with it, mm?”

Emerson blushed.

“Other tit,” the squirrel cheerily decreed.

“Let me catch my breath … ”

“After you’re done drinking, you’ll want something to eat,” Charlie said playfully, parting her thighs.

“Ha. You’re incorrigible.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means you can’t get enough.”

“Hmm.” She tilted her head and admitted, “True!”

“So, what happens when I take you? Does that mean I’m playing with my food?” the mouse asked, tacitly accepting her offer.

The fox squirrel snorted. “You’re such a kinkster, Emmy!”

“I’m probably the least kinky mouse there is.” A pause, whiskers twitching. “WelI. I was before we met.”

“I’m an adventurous influence!”

He smirked. “You’re something, alright.”

“Come on,” she urged, paws pulling at the back of his head. “I’ve got more to give! Lemme nourish you.”

Emerson, ears hot, relented and nursed from her other breast. Her milk was warm and creamy and a little nutty in flavor (to be expected for a squirrel).

“You’re just like Persis,” Charlie randomly told Emerson, of her painted bat friend.

His eyes darted upward.

“Heh! Not like that, silly. I don’t let anyone suck my tits.” She patted his head. “No, but you both need my help to squeeze the juice out of life! No drop wasted!”

“Sounds like a recipe for a sugar high,” the mouse mumbled as he pulled away again, wiping his milky muzzle with the back of a paw. Having had his fill, he drifted downward, nuzzle-kissing his way to her belly.

“I set Persis up on a blind date with one of those beaver barons. Hope it goes well!”

“Barons?”

“Yeah, business beavers. Town royalty?” She counted on a paw. “They own the tractor supply store, the granary, the gas station … one of ‘em’s on the town council. Forget which one. They all have names that start with B!”

“Oh. Them.” A pause. “I wouldn’t call them royalty.”

Beavers were the second biggest rodents but were usually quite ‘down to earth.’ Not exactly regal vibes.

Emerson continued, “How’d you end up matchmaking for them?”

“We shop at their stores!”

“So? The whole town does. They never talk to me … ”

“That’s cause you scare ‘em off with your anti-social behavior.”

“I’m an introvert,” he defended.

“I’m not.”

“No fucking kidding.”

“They talk to me. All the time! I think I give off good vibes.” She considered. “Must be cause I’m Canadian! A ‘friend’ to beavers, eh?” She added, in case it wasn’t clear, “I’ve ‘known’ a few.”

Emerson, unbothered by her past (though admittedly curious; but if he asked for details, he’d only prolong this conversation), re-focused on his task and moved his muzzle below her hips.

“Persis will love it,” Charlie continued, paws stroking his head-fur. “I know she’s in a casual thing with Mayor Rikki and us squirrels gotta stick together … he’s a cool dude, but he does what’s good for him. She needs to look after herself! She’s too cute to be stuck on the sidelines.”

Emerson couldn’t control himself anymore, pushing his mate’s thighs apart, tongue gliding along her sex before scooping into it, jaw opening wide.

“Ooh. Someone’s hungry!” Charlie exclaimed, folding her paws behind her head. “Ahh. Ha! Save room for dessert.”

“Mmm. Mm! There’s no dessert with breakfast,” he insisted, murmuring on her clit. He kissed and outright sucked on it.

“Rules don’t apply to … to s-squirrels,” she gasped, eyes hooding.

Emerson’s response was muffled by her pussy.

Charlie stopped talking.

A minute later, she came, leaving her mate’s face a dripping, matted mess.

“Now, about that dessert?” he panted, peering up from between her thighs.

Charlie just growled and pulled him forward, fully atop her.

Emerson didn’t fight it, wriggling into position.

Within seconds, they were rutting like feral beasts, fur flying, the air filled with animal noises. Squeaks and chitters, whimpers and barks! His sex fusing with hers, linking them together in rocking rhythm. A slick, wondrous friction! Faster by the second. More, more! The bed shook, the headboard rhythmically tapping the wall.

Then Emerson abruptly hilted, cock pulsing, jerking in place.

“Uhh … uhn.” His faced scrunched and twisted. “Uff … ”

“Yesssss!” Charlie yelled, her pussy in spasms, clenching around his shaft, milking him for everything he had.

Slowly coming to his senses, Emerson took deep, steadying breaths while he nuzzled his face against hers. Whiskers to whiskers, cheek to cheek.

“Boy, mouse-o … you were feelin’ it. Ha!”

“Was I? Mm. I … I could’ve lasted longer … ”

“Nahh, you were awesome.” She squeezed his rump-cheeks, bragging, “I came three times!”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. Once by muzzle, two by cock. Such a generous mouse-o!”

“I’m benevolent like that,” he murmured happily, nipping at her chin, delivering a kiss to her lips.

Smack!

“Fancy word!”

“What can I say? You inspire me. Those squeaks weren’t for show,” he answered.

“Aw … Emmy,” she breathed, beaming, touched by the sentiment.

Was it crazier that she’d wound up with him or that he’d wound up with her? They were an odd couple in so many ways. Regardless, here they were, together, mates and parents and tied to each other for the rest of time.

“I love you,” Emerson cooed, pulling out of her and rolling to his side.

“Love you, too … daddy,” she responded playfully, turning and hugging him tight.

Emerson tried to wriggle free. She really was stronger than him. “What’d … what’d I say about calling me that?”

“You know you like it,” Charlie murmured before letting him go.

Blushing and suppressing a smile, he sat up, blood was rushing every which way. Whoa. “We, uh, better take a shower.” He carefully got out of bed, stretching, finding his balance. There was a faint gnawing in his belly. “And I still need a proper ‘food’ breakfast.”

“Shower first! I’ll turn the water on. Meet you there!” the squirrel said, bounding up and past him, boobs bouncing and tail flying like a furry flag. She was like a whirling dervish!

Emerson blinked and checked the time.

It was only 8-o’clock?

There was still a whole day ahead. And, when you were mated to a squirrel with twins, that meant countless more opportunities for chaos.

“Mm.”

He was going to need an extra-big breakfast to get through this.

A few hours later, just before noon, the bell on the door handle jingled and hot, late-summer air rushed into the post-office lobby. The cool days of autumn wouldn’t start until October. Most of the town was wilting, ready for ‘pumpkin spice season.’

But Persis?

Having a tropical lineage, the painted bat was unfazed.

She much preferred the heat to the cold!

“How can I help you, today?” she asked, putting her lunch aside. Fruit, nuts, and crackers. Sitting on a stool behind the service counter, she wore a sky-blue shirt (with a white, rectangular nametag) and navy-colored shorts, perfect color complements to her neon orange fur.

The beaver, a tall, well-built male with auburn fur, was dressed in overalls and a plain white t-shirt. He shuffled forward and made a ‘chucking’ noise, producing a letter. “Need t’ mail somethin’.”

“Oh, uh … sure!” The painted bat surveyed the envelope. Hmm. It was already stamped and everything. Why hadn’t he just put it in a mailbox? Pivoting, she put it in the ‘to deliver’ container. “Anything else?” she asked, squaring back up to him.

“Charlie said you were rarin’ t’go” the rodent said bluntly, elbows resting on the counter. He flashed a bucktoothed smile.

Are his teeth … orange? Red? I didn’t realize beaver teeth weren’t white.

“So? Are ya?”

“Raring to go?” she echoed, squinting in confusion.

“Out.”

This is the blind date Charlie set up for me! Of course …

The bat just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon! And at work …

“Where we goin’?” the beaver asked in his relaxed, rural twang.

“Um …” Persis’ mind raced.

Charlie meant well, but she was a chaos agent: had no off switch and rarely took no for an answer.

Now, the bat was put in an awkward position of having to either ‘roll with it,’ which was against all her introverted impulses (and would just invite more things being hoisted upon her) or rebuff the beaver and hurt his feelings.

“Not many places in Arcadia open at night,” the beaver continued. “Y’like pizza?”

“Um, yes, but no, I … that would be a little … me and Rikki?” She assumed the beaver knew about that. Right? Didn’t everyone in town at this point? She and the mayor were, well … in an ‘open relationship.’ But in addition to being mayor, Rikki owned ‘Village Pizza,’ the town’s sole pizza place. “I don’t want things to get awkward.”

“Ah! Yeah, yeah. Gotcha, yup.” The hefty rodent slapped the tiled floor with his coarse paddle-tail. “Could go over t’ Circleville? Maybe my place. Watch TV.” He paused, buckteeth jutting as he insisted, “I got a big one.”

Sapphire eyes drifting down the beaver’s burly, rock-solid figure, Persis blushed and replied, “I, uh … I believe you.”

Catching her look, he stated, “Never been with a bat.”

Persis blushed self-consciously, eyes lifting.

“Been with a beaver?”

The bat shook her head.

“You’ll like it.”

“Quite an un-biased endorsement.”

“Ha!” The beaver chucked with amusement. “I’m not scarin’ ya, am I?”

“No, I’m just a little shy. Or, even … maybe a lot shy,” she admitted, fiddling with a role of ‘forever’ stamps. “I don’t normally do things like this?”

“S’okay. Yer cute.”

Persis blushed, outright reorganizing the stamps now.

“But I won’t have fun if you don’t,” the big rodent continued. “An’ I want ya to have fun! Don’t be afraid t’ tell me what ya want.”

“Thanks. Um.” Looking up and studying his face, Persis realized, “I’ve seen you before … ”

“Yup. Braxton! I run the farm supply. End o’ Main Street. Turf N Tractor. TNT for short. We got dynamite deals!”

“Ah, right. I get my garden supplies there.”

“Yeah, I seen ya.”

“Really?”

“Yup, you’re memorable.”

“I, uh … I guess I do stand out, don’t I?” the painted bat said, jet-black wing-arms fluttering a bit. The contrast with her vivid orange fur made people refer to her as ‘Jack-o-bat.’ She wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but the nickname had stuck. “I’m sorry I don’t remember more about you. I tend to keep my head down when I’m out and about.”

“S’okay,” Braxton said again, eyes darting over her spritely figure. “Was excited when Charlie said you were available.” His paddle-tail lifted off the floor. “Never thought I’d get the chance with someone like you.”

Persis tilted her scoop-like ears in surprise. “Why? You, uh … I mean, you’re a really successful guy!” By Arcadia standards, anyway. Which probably wasn’t saying much in the grander scheme. “I’m just a postal worker.”

“You’re unique, though, an’ I’m just an average farm boy.” He shrugged self-consciously. “Thought you might be outta my league.”

Persis blushed again.

This guy was so humble!

In comparison, Rikki had an ego (with a capital E). It gave the Malabar squirrel a smooth, confident charm that could be quite exciting, and it served him well as a politician, but … sometimes, it could be overbearing.

She took a breath and admitted, “Charlie didn’t tell me much about you.”

“Ha, that squirrel’s a ball o’ fire, ain’t she?”

“That’s one way of putting it … ”

“Fox squirrels be like that.”

Persis nodded.

“So. We got a date?” Braxton pressed, being the definition of ‘eager beaver.’

“Um, yeah. Alright.”

Persis felt a pang of anxiety as she agreed.

Why?

It’s not like Rikki would care. Their ‘arrangement’ was affectionate but not emotional. What was stopping her from exploring her options? Why should that make her feel guilty?

The bat looked to the nearest clock. “I’m not off work until 4:30.”

“No prob. I’ll pick ya up then!” Braxton said.

“Well, I drove here,” she quickly replied, leaning forward. “I gotta take my car home first. You can pick me up there.” She only lived a few minutes away, but still. “Um, I’ll have to text you directions to my house. Can you give me your number?”

He held out a paw for her phone, and his claws clack-clacked on the screen as he put himself in her contacts.

He handed the phone back, and she saw he’d put himself in there as ‘Brax.’

Persis nodded. “I’ll send you a message later.”

“Great! See you at 5, then?”

“Okay.” She realized they still hadn’t established where they were going, but she’d leave that to him.

He then turned and shuffled out the door, dragging his textured tail behind him.

The bat blew out a breath and sat back on her stool.

I hope this doesn’t end up being a disaster.

Persis, resuming her lunch, sank her fangs into an apple, ruminating on the possibilities when one of the mail-sorters, a chipmunk named Oakley, stuck his head around the corner. He gave a whistle and a teasing ‘woooooh!’

“How have long were you listening to that?” Persis demanded.

“Long enough. I didn’t know beavers were your type!”

“I don’t have a type.”

“What’ll the Mayor say?”

“Whatever he wants? We’re not a couple! We’re just … good friends.”

“Wish I had ‘friends’ like that!” A pause before asking nonchalantly, “Rikki’s not bi, is he?”

“Pretty sure he’s straight.”

“Damn.”

Someone called for Oakley from further back in the building. It was time to load the mail truck. He scampered off.

Persis picked up her phone to text Braxton directions to her house, but she decided to text Charlie first:

‘I got a date … ’

Five minutes later, Charlie wrote back:

‘Brax?!’

‘Yup, tonight.’

Charlie replied: ‘thumbs up emoji, peach emoji, two-way arrow emoji, eggplant emoji, firework emoji, wink emoji!’

The bat deciphered this and rolled her blue eyes, setting her phone aside as another customer entered the lobby.

Late afternoon bled into evening.

Removing a pizza from the oven, Riki sliced and boxed it up, then looked through the open-windowed kitchen wall and saw someone lingering at checkout. Wiping his pumpkin-hued paws on his apron, the tall, vivid Malabar giant squirrel left the kitchen and strolled into the dining room.

“What’ll it be, miss?”

The snow rabbit, a busty, gorgeous doe with a winter-white pelt dusted in charcoal fringes, bowed her head. “I am not here for food.”

“Not even a nibble?” Rikki asked, not missing a beat.

The rabbit produced a clipboard with a bunch of papers on it. “I am the new fire chief.”

“Oh? Oh, yeah! We certified you during the last town council meeting.”

The rabbit had interviewed for the position remotely, by video. She hailed from out of state. The old chief (a raccoon) had retired, and his assistant had re-enrolled in school.

“I believed in your qualifications from the start!” Rikki declared.

“Thank you.”

“But meeting you in person?” Rikki tried not to ogle her. She was gorgeous. Fluffy as hell, too. Rabbits were common enough in these parts. But snow rabbits? “Webcam didn’t do you justice. I didn’t appreciate that you were so—”

“Yes?”

“Eager to get to work,” he said smoothly. “As a small business owner, I admire that.”

Nice save.

“Indeed.”

Snow rabbits, from the frozen tundra, tended to be a bit ‘cool’ in demeanor.

But they had a reputation:

Ice in the streets, fire in the sheets!

He’d love to put that to the test.

The doe, if she were aware of the effect she was having on the squirrel, didn’t betray it. She simply continued, “I’m here to perform an inspection. I would normally defer such a task to my assistant, but I do not have one.”

“You can hire whoever you deem fit! Well. Not anyone. Just, uh, float it past us first. After all, the town pays the salary.”

“Of course. I will send out feelers. Does this town have a newspaper?”

“We get Circleville’s paper? They sometimes include news about us. But, no. Not one of our own. We got a weekly newsletter! But it’s e-mail only.”

“That will suffice.”

“I’ll put you in touch with the administrator. They also run the historical society on Main Street. That used to be the Village Pizza. When I bought it, I moved it a few blocks over to this newer, nicer building.” He gestured around the room with his paws. A television on the wall was playing a football game.

She nodded and returned to her papers. “Town records show it has been a full year since your last inspection.”

“My lucky day, huh?” The squirrel extended an orange paw. His pelt a swirling mixture of maroon, purple, yellow, orange. His tail a huge and floofy. He could probably be spotted from space! “I’m the Mayor, by the way. Rikki.”

She nodded primly, giving his paw an obligatory shake.

“And you are … ? Apologies, I can’t remember. We handle so much business on the council, it’s hard to keep track.”

She highly doubted that but replied, “My name’s Aria.”

“Aria. Beautiful! Like a song.”

“Yes.” She turned and pointed, her short bobtail flickering like a flame. Silence hung in the air until she said, “I notice there is not an illuminated ‘exit’ sign above the doorway.”

“There’s a sign.” He pointed to it.

“But it is not illuminated,” she repeated, walking toward the exit. Her hips swayed. She had curves.

“Well, um … ” Rikki followed her, eyes lowering, dilating. Now, that was an ass. “It’s the, uh, only doorway.” His gaze lifted. “And people enter through there, so … ” He trailed off and tilted his colorful head. “I’d assume common sense would indicate it’s also an exit?”

She looked over her shoulder. “Many laws are in place because common sense is not.”

“Point taken.”

“A sign is required,” she said, trying to be polite about it. “If, say, the power goes out in winter when the sun goes down early? And there is also a fire? In the pitch dark, customers need a quick, easy cue as to their avenue of escape.”

“Of course.” The giant squirrel sauntered right up to her, holding up his paws in a gesture of ‘surrender.’ “I didn’t mean to argue! Your logic is impeccable.” He swished his banner-like tail, showing off his bold, warm colors. She didn’t seem to be wooed. “I’ll take care of it.”

They were close enough to kiss.

Rikki’s heart began to hammer.

“You have thirty days.” The prim and proper doe stepped aside and scribbled on her papers. “When I am done inspecting the dining room, I will need access to the kitchen. To check the extinguishers, sprinkler system, ovens, and the like.

“Of course,” Rikki acquiesced.

Was steam coming out of his ears?

It wasn’t solely her looks.

He was a playboy, but he wasn’t that shallow.

She was smart. Confident. Had a sense of dry wit. And she carried herself in an unobtainable, erudite way which set her apart in this farming town.

As much as Rikki enjoyed playing with Persis (who was a total cutie), he dominated the bat without any effort. But this snow rabbit? She could match him step for step.

It would be a chess match.

Something about that? It got him going.

If he could just crack that exterior, get her guard down?

She’d be like feral dynamite.

Fuck.

Rikki tugged on his apron, partly to give his paws something to do. Partly to hide the big, rock-hard erection he was getting. He was about to say something else when a customer came in the door. The pizza Rikki had boxed a few minutes ago. It was theirs.

“Ah, Roanoke!” he said to the customer, returning to checkout.

A Merle piebald mouse (gold, silver, and bronze), the affable, innocent rodent was a teller at the town bank. He was also mated to the town grocer, Akira, a red velvet ‘short clawed’ otter.

Rikki tugged at his apron again, his erection decently hidden. Good thing he was wearing this! “You called in earlier.”

“Mmhmm!”

“A medium pan. Half-and-half, right? Anchovies on one side, extra cheese on the other.”

“Otters put fish on everything if given the chance,” Roanoke confided conspiratorially. “I never knew that before mating one. I thought it was an exaggeration!”

“Heh. It would be ten times worse if we lived near water, you know. Thank your lucky stars we’re landlocked.”

Not having considered that before, Roanoke’s eyes boggled.

“You wanted breadsticks, too, right?”

“Mm?” He blinked. “Yes! Extra cheese cups.”

“Can do, sir. Just a sec.”

While Rikki got the order together, Roanoke noticed Aria walking around the room. “Who’s she?” he whispered. Those ears. She looked like she had good hearing! Was it really a snow rabbit? They didn’t often venture this far south. How was she handling the humidity? “What’s she doing? Are you in trouble?”

“Me? Nah. If I am, I’ll get out of it.” Rikki returned to the counter and leaned in to whisper back, “That’s the new fire chief.”

“Oh! Really?”

“Yup.” The squirrel rang up Roanoke’s order on the checkout screen. “She’s doing a routine inspection.”

“If you’re not in trouble, why do you seem so nervous?”

“I think you’re mistaking nerves for anticipation, mousey,” Rikki replied with a friendly, private wink.

“Oh? I, uh … um.” The mouse, having a modest, bashful nature, started to twitch. “Oh!”

The squirrel smirked.

Rikki’s playboy exploits weren’t exactly a secret, but …

Was he really going to put the moves on this bunny?

Right here?

Now?!

“Well … I should go!” Roanoke squeaked, a little louder than intended. “Akira’s waiting.”

“Did you walk?”

“Yeah, we’re only a few blocks away.” Their house was right behind the grocery store.

“That’ll be 18.99. Cash or card?”

Roanoke produced his bank card.

Rikki swiped it and processed the transaction.

In the background, Aria continued to drift around the dining area. Scanning. Nodding. Making checks on her papers.

“Just autograph the receipt and we’re done,” Rikki said, returning the card.

Roanoke shoved it into his pocket and hurriedly scribbled his signature.

“Have a goodnight, buddy. Enjoy the meal!” Rikki told the mouse. “Say hello to Akira for me!” The otter served on the town council, so Rikki saw her often.

“Yes! Thanks! Sure, uh-huh, you, too, bye!” was the mouse’s breathless reply. He scurried out into the dark before the sexual tension became too thick to breathe.

Rikki chuckled.

Mice.

He turned this attention back to Aria.

Mm.

Rabbits.

The way that bobtail flicked. Like a fluffy snowball tipped in charcoal dust. Heavenly!

“Is foot traffic normally this sparse?” Aria asked, breaking the silence. Almost like she’d been waiting for Roanoke to leave.

“No! No, it’s normally … heh, this is a successful business. A cornerstone of the community!” he insisted, emerging from behind the counter and walking toward her. His erection back under control.

The rabbit arched her brow at the empty chairs. “I see … ”

“Really! Things just … ebb and flow, y’know? This is a farming town. It’s the peak of harvest season. A lot of the locals are in the fields and aren’t coming into town right now. And the Harvest Festival is this weekend, so people are prepping, saving for that. It’s just temporary.” Speaking of the festival, “Are you coming?”

“Excuse me?”

“To the Harvest Moon,” he said.

“I do not know much about it. I only arrived in Indiana on Tuesday.”

“Oh, you have to come. All day Saturday and Sunday. The town’s biggest party of the year.”

“I suppose I will have to inspect the festival for fire hazards … ”

“Mmhmm! And, afterward, I can show you around! There’s a lot of fun to be had.”

“What about your mayoral duties?”

“I’ll give a speech, dedicate a tractor. Won’t take long. Gotta chat up voters, too, I guess. There’s an election this fall, you know!” He moved closer. “Have you registered to vote?”

“No.”

“I’ll personally expedite,” he emphasized, taking one of her paws in his, thumb wagging over the back of it, “the process for you.”

“You can do that?” She quirked a brow, looking up at him. He had a few inches on her. Rabbits were normally taller, but he possessed unusual size for a squirrel.

“I can do a lot of things.”

The rabbit’s ears flicked.

“But enough about me,” Rikki said, releasing her paw. It was so soft. And warm. “Where are you from, again? Alaska, right?

“Yes. Fairbanks originally.”

“Never been.”

“It is a rugged place. The last frontier.”

“Have you seen the Northern Lights?”

She nodded.

“Does it take your breath away?”

Aria, aware that Rikki was flirting wit her, replied, “It does.”

“And what brought you all the way to my humble pizzeria in this wayward town?”

“The open position as fire chief.”

“Heh. I know that, but why here? Surely, you could’ve gotten a similar position much closer to home.”

A coy pause before, “I required a change of scenery.”

Sensing she didn’t want to tell the whole story, he didn’t pry further. Instead, he offered, “Maybe it’s fate?”

She raised a brow.

“Maybe it means something?” he continued warmly.

“If you believe in such things.”

“I do.”

Peering down at her clipboard, she replied, “Do not let me get in your way. If I need you, I will let you know.” She sauntered off to check an electrical outlet, hips swaying, bobtail twitching.

Rikki took a deep breath.

He’d ‘known’ rabbits.

They were normally easy to … well, they tended to be ‘easy.’

This one?

Oh, she’s gonna make me chase her.

And I like it?

He contemplated his next move.

Maybe if I make her a meal, free of charge! As thanks for her public service. How can she object? Everybody likes pizza. It’ll be the best she’s ever had.

The squirrel put up a sign that said ‘ring bell for service!’ and went back into the kitchen, doing a brief scan to make sure everything was in order for Aria’s inspection before working his magic.

Braxton showed up at Persis’ house in his pickup truck.

He took her to Circleville, the next town over. A five-mile drive to ‘city limits,’ seven miles to their downtown. It was the county seat and there was more to do. They had a department store and a movie theater. And more than one fast food places! None of which Arcadia had.

They ended up at the bowling alley.

Braxton bought their meals, and they ate first: loaded veggie burgers with sides of sweet potato waffle fries. The beaver had a woodsy beer to drink while Persis got a strawberry milkshake.

While they ate, they traded stories of the retail trade and their customer service experiences.

Persis giggled.

Braxton, meanwhile, kept making ‘chuck-chuck’ noises, a goofy, bucktoothed grin plastered on his face.

Eventually, the beaver left his seat and approached the lane. He slapped the floor with his broad tail. Pat-a-pat-a-pat! He was ready to play!

“I’ll be Player One. You be Two. I haven’t done this in a while, but I’m feelin’ some strikes in me.”

“Mm. Yeah. Um … about that?” The painted bat chewed on her milkshake straw, almost afraid to say it. She didn’t want to ruin his fun.

The beaver saw the look on her face, blinked, then glanced at her wing-arms. Then back to her face. “Aw, heck! You can’t grip a bowlin’ ball, can ya?” he realized as the pins were set up for them in the background.

A few lanes over, someone rolled a strike. The sound echoed through the room, followed by howls and yips.

“No … not really.” Persis finished her milkshake and pushed the cup aside. She held up her wing-arms for show.

The bat was all thumbs, lacking proper fingers. And bowling balls had three holes. It would be a disaster! A lot of gutter balls. Or maybe getting her big thumb stuck in the hole and throwing herself down the lane. She’d actually seen a video of that online. She was pretty sure that had been part of a bet to get viral attention.

Best (and safer) to remain a spectator!

“I shoulda thought ‘bout that. Sorry.” Braxton gnawed on his lower lip. “Like I said, I, uh … I never been with a bat before. I’m not used to havin’ to consider—”

“It’s okay!”

The beaver furrowed his brow, raising his paddle-tail and wondering how to proceed. “Well … ”

“I mean, you can still bowl. I wanna watch you! I’ll cheer you on.”

“Y’sure?”

“Yeah. I’m having fun.” She bit into the last sweet potato fry. “I, uh, don’t want to leave.”

Braxton flashed her a bucktoothed grin, tail returning to the floor. “Great!” Squaring up to the lane again, he decided, “Maybe I’ll do ‘Player One’ with my dominant paw.” He held up his right paw. “And ‘Player Two’ with my left. See how close I can get the scores t’gether. I’m not exactly ambidextrous, but us beavers are good with our paws.”

Persis giggled and blushed.

Was that a promise?

Or was she getting carried away with her expectations for how this night might end?

Stop it.

This morning, the orange bat would’ve been shocked at how this was unfolding.

Having fun?

Really?

Also, Charlie being right?

Stranger things have happened.

“Lessgo!” Braxton declared, zipping a ball down the polished, wooden lane at breakneck speed, the pins flying every which way.

Back in Arcadia at the Village Pizza, Rikki and Aria were having a ‘dinner break’ in a booth by one of the windows. They were still the only people in the place. Outside, the sun had set. Darkness, approaching full twilight. The ‘harvest moon’ wouldn’t rise ‘til later.

“I’ve heard rumors about your kind,” Rikki said as fiddled with a slice of pizza. His second. He took a big bite.

“Rumors?” The snow rabbit nibbled on a piece of crust, still on her first slice. “Rabbits?”

“Hmph. Mmhmm.” The squirrel chewed and swallowed, wiping his muzzle with a napkin. “You can’t play innocent with me.”

“Who is ‘playing’?” she echoed lightly.

“I admit I have a frisky demeanor.” The squirrel continued to eat his slice. “It’s just my nature. Being around others, close to them? Pleasing them? It’s what I live for.”

“And if you are pleasured yourself in the process, all the better,” the rabbit stated with a nod.

The squirrel grinned and tilted his head. “Of course, there’s an element of selfishness to everything we do. Even the best of us. We all want to feel good, don’t we?”

“Yes.”

Rikki’s leaned back in the booth, done eating for now.

Aria reached for a glass of water. Dabbing her muzzle with a napkin, she finally said, “You are a striking specimen. I’ve never seen a squirrel quite like you.”

“I’m one-of-a-kind. In these parts, anyway. But so are you,” he murmured back.

“It seems so.”

He leaned forward, putting his elbows in the table, resting his chin in his paws. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“So poised and reserved on the outside, but I know there’s more I’m not seeing.”

She said nothing.

Rikki reached for her. Their fingers touched and brushed, claws connecting.

Aria moved her fingertips to his wrist, sliding her paw up his forearm.

This is it.

“As mayor, give me the chance to officially ‘welcome’ you to town.” He took a deep breath, breathing, “A good, proper welcoming.”

“Good and proper?” she echoed. “No, I’m afraid that won’t do.”

Aria pulled her arm back and stretched her legs beneath the table, a big, fluffy foot-paw brushing his leg, ice-blue eyes shimmering with a deep well of desire that she’d kept bottled up until this very moment. It was like a switch had been flipped.

Suddenly, her expression, her body language?

“I won’t settle for anything less than ‘improper’.”

Rabbits!

Hell, yes.

Rikki grinned, standing and offering a paw. “Let’s go to my office.”

“And if you get customers?”

The pizzeria closed in less than an hour. Rikki doubted they’d get anyone, but if they did? “They’ll hear where to find us.”

A mile away, behind Persis’ house (at the very edge of town limits), Braxton’s pickup truck was parked beside the freshly harvested field that bordered her yard.

No one was inside the vehicle. The engine was off, and so were the lights.

The bat and beaver were, instead, in the ‘bed’ of the truck. Braxton’s self-bowling competition had gone well. (Right paw had beaten left paw!) Now, he and Persis were on their backs on a quilted blanket, looking up at the heavens.

The air was warm, and crickets and cicadas noisily filled it with their rhythmic calls.

She could hear Braxton breathing. His species didn’t handle the humidity as well as painted bats.

“There!” the bat said, pointing a wing-arm.

“Where?”

“It’s gone already. Hmm. Never mind. There’ll be more!”

There was a meteor shower tonight.

“What’re these called?” Braxton asked.

“Perseids.”

“Sounds close enough t’ your name.” He smiled, paws on his rounded belly. His head turned. “Any relation?”

“Heh, it’s just a coincidence. They, uh, come from a comet from the Perseus constellation … ” She pointed to it. “Perseus was an ancient predator god, a monster slayer.” She skipped a beat. “The only things I’ve slayed are bugs.”

“You eat bugs?”

“I, uh … I like to, yeah. My species has a taste for them.”

“Cool.”

“That doesn’t gross you out?”

“Naw,” was his casual reply.

She smiled.

Braxton pointed. “Is that one?”

She squinted. “No, that must be a satellite. Or the space station.”

“Mm, right, right. Movin’ to slow.” He shimmied into a more comfortable position and said, “Us beavers have weak vision. Especially at night.”

“Do you need glasses?”

“Heh. They wouldn’t fit on my big ol’ face. My ears are too tiny. Nothin’ to latch to. I wear contacts.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Wearin’ ‘em right now, but my night vision still sucks,” he added.

“Bat vision is actually pretty good.”

“An’ you got that chitter-thing!”

“Echo location, yeah.”

“You always won at hide an’ seek, didn’t ya?”

“Heh.” A pause. “I try not to do it in public. Echo-bursting. People get really suspicious about what you’re trying to ‘see’, and bats are already viewed as … mm. We’re different. Outsiders. Some bats own it. They’re irreverent, toothy. Me? I’m just a scaredy.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“Maybe you just need someone to make you feel safe?”

She didn’t even realize she’d turned and wrapped a wing-arm around his warm, thick-furred body until she felt one of his paws rubbing her back through her shirt.

“Yer pretty,” he breathed. “Have I said that already?”

The bat swallowed, her throat getting dry. Her pulse quickening. She had to say something back! “You’re … you’re h-handsome.”

“Heh. Don’t gotta lie.”

“I’m not.” She blushed. “You are. You’re strong and sweet and … and … ” The words got stuck. She didn’t care how awkwardly big and flat his tail was, or that his buckteeth were so goofy. Or that he wasn’t exactly svelte. He was a rounded fellow, built like a tank. So what? She shifted about so she could hug him with both wing-arms.

Braxton hugged her, too, buckteeth grazing her cheek. His hot breaths washing over her face.

The bat closed her eyes.

He smelled faintly of vanilla. Sweet and mellow. Was that natural?

They kissed.

As they did, the biggest meteor yet burned brightly overhead.

At the pizzeria, Aria rode Rikki on his office couch, her breasts freely bouncing.

They were mesmerizing.

Snowy mountains! An erotic avalanche!

He wanted to be buried under them.

Under her.

She obliged.

The white-furred doe sank to a hilt and stayed there, stilting her arms and planting her paws on his cantaloupe-colored chest.

Panting heavily, she tossed her head back and closed her eyes, collecting (or steeling) herself before lowering her head and staring at him with disheveled lust. Slanting that bobtailed ass left to right, then forward and back. Soon gyrating, grinding down on him in clockwise circles.

Rikki couldn’t keep his muzzle shut.

“Gah, ah … hah!” he panted, buckteeth jutting, twitching inside her.

Her tall, ink-dipped ears twiddled, listening to his noises. His notes of bliss. Each time she thought he might be getting close, she eased up completely, caressing his chest and making quiet hushing noises.

She traced his lips with her fingers.

He went quiet and sucked on them, making eye contact while doing so.

Daintily withdrawing her paw, the rabbit planted it over his heart and pushed off his body. Even she had limits. The time for edging was over. She wanted her reward. When she dropped back down, she didn’t linger. She was riding again. With thumping vigor, her wet, pink sex swallowed his seven-inch shaft with practiced ease, crashing to the tufted fur on his loins.

Rikki’s eyes rolled back.

Aria reached down to rub at her clit, hanging her head and starting to huff

She was getting close.

Rikki wanted to impress her by outlasting her, but there was never any hope of that. He knew that now. So, he stopped fighting it. He gave in, surrendering to her sensuality.

He barked!

Body seizing up, purple legs squirming, he dug his claws into her hips as he came. Wracked by orgasm, like pleasure bombs in his brain. Concussive blasts of bliss, pleasure sizzling through every nerve as he filled her, painted her inside as white as her outside.

She kept on going.

Whimpering, overwhelmed, his head twisted about.

Thankfully, she didn’t need much longer, and she came, too. Flopping down, grinding. Whimpering. Whining! Sex fluttering, wracked by intense spasms that milked the squirrel’s cock for more than he ever thought he could give.

Aria tossed her head back, gaping at the ceiling. “Ahhhh … ah, ah!”

Rikki impulsively grabbed a breast.

The rabbit sighed, cleared her throat, and breathed in deeply through her twitchy nose.

He looked at her, silently asking ‘you okay?’

She nodded.

Rikki shifted his paws to her rump, squeezing her there. “D-damn, bunny,” he blurted. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

She grabbed for his blackberry/orange tail, draping it around her neck like a victory wreath. “Let’s just say: things are bigger on the frontier.”

What’s that mean?

Has she fucked caribou?

Moose?

Polar bears?!

Or is she just winding me up?

“Trade secrets, huh?”

“Mmm.” She was almost smiling.

The squirrel laughed, glad that he’d made her as happy as she’d made him. He pulled her down atop his chest, sniffing at her neck. “Seriously. That was fucking incredible.”

“I know,” she confirmed lightly, releasing his tail. It swished away.

Their noses touched.

Lips brushed.

He started to kiss her.

“Ah-ah,” she chided, raising back up and denying him the lip lock. “Next time.”

“So we’re gonna do this again?”

“I hope to be in this town for quite some a while.” They locked eyes. Blue to violet. “Assuming you are around for the duration? I am sure circumstances will lead to another … dalliance. Especially if you can make it as agreeable as this one.”

“Agreeable? High praise. I feel like a sex god.”

There was that look again. She was almost smiling more with her eyes than her lips. How did she do that?

“I will still have to turn in my fire inspection,” she said casually, dismounting from his body. She stood and raised her arms over her head, stretching one way and then the other. A sigh, her limbs falling to her sides. She looked down and saw the mess running down her thighs. “Do you have a wet towel?”

“Mm. Yeah, bathroom’s right there.”

“Thank you.” She disappeared for a moment, the faucet running, raising her voice to still be heard. “You will still need to make the annotated changes.”

Rikki sat up on the couch, eyes widening a bit. “Wow. You can really flip the switch, can’t you? No offense. I’m honestly jealous.” He sighed. “I can’t turn myself off. I wish I could.” He faltered before adding, “Then maybe people would like me better.”

“You seem extremely popular?” the rabbit noted as she hopped back into the room, bending down for her panties. She put them on. Also wiggled into a bra. “You convinced me this would be a good idea, and I have been said to be ‘picky’ by rabbit standards.”

“Heh. I’m honored to meet your criteria.” His smile faltered. “But there’s a difference between liking someone’s image and what they can do for you … and liking them as a person.”

“Explain?” she said as she zipped up her pants.

He flopped back down on the couch, still naked. “I represent the town well. I’m tall, colorful. Some might say ‘dashing.’ I’m a good ‘face.’ And I get things done because of my social connections. And, for a lot of my playmates, I give them a great time. But, one on one, when the dust settles, I think the townsfolk believe I’m … too much.”

“Too much what?”

“Just ... I don’t know. Too flamboyant, too open, too ambitious. Too horny. Too different. I overwhelm people.” His tail twitched. “You saw Roanoke earlier. He practically ran out of here. I mean, he’s cute, and it was funny, but … I wasn’t trying to make him nervous.” He thought about the mayoral race coming up in a few months.

“My opponent,” he said, of Seldovia, “is all of those things, too, if we’re being honest? Same traits as me. But people accept them in her. She’s able to regulate them better. She’s more strategic. Has a softer, more seductive touch. Apparently, I’m more blunt.” He sighed and shrugged. “I think she’s going to beat me … ”

With no polling done for low-level races like this, there was no real way of knowing. And there were still a few months to reenergize support.

But he had a feeling.

Rikki, realizing he was rambling, stopped and apologized. “Sorry. I shouldn’t complain after sex … I’m grateful. You were … I mean, you blew my mind! Just, normally, I’m not doing it with people I relate to. Does that make sense?” He sat up and started to put his clothes back on. “What I mean is: I feel like we’re on the same level.”

“Perhaps, like me, you just needed a ‘change of scenery’,” she suggested softly.

“Needed?” That implied he’d just gotten it. “Are you my new scenery?”

“If you would like.”

“I would. Very much.” Rikki smiled. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. Not in the traditional, committed sense. He highly suspected she wasn’t, either. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have … something. After all, they were both high-ups in the town government. They’d be working together often.

I can start her fires, and she can put out mine.

“I should be leaving,” the rabbit insisted. "After all, it is closing time.”

He glanced at a clock. “Holy hell! It is.” He’d lost complete track! Rikki bounded for the door, opening it for her and asking, “So, final verdict: do you feel suitably welcomed?”

“I feel like I have just been slipped the key to the town. Repeatedly,” she said as she walked past him.

Rikki smirked, a connoisseur of good innuendo. “Some doors are harder to unlock. They take some jiggling. The job of mayor is an arduous one!”

“And you really want another four years of it?” she teased.

They returned to the dining area.

There had been no customers during their tryst. As far as Rikki knew, anyway. Nothing had been stolen, no notes had been left.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna wipe down the kitchen. You can leave the papers on the checkout counter. I’ll address them on Monday.”

She bowed her head, leaving the papers and striding for the exit.

“Chief.”

“Mayor,” Aria replied without looking back.

The stars were shining brighter than ever as the truck rocked on its wheels, clothes swinging from the tailgate.

Persis chittered!

“Awh, gawd!” Braxton cried, his country twang echoing loudly across the empty field. The crickets immediately fell silent at the outburst.

Beneath the beaver’s bulky, powerful body, the ‘Jack-o-bat’ arched, gasping with pleasure as his loins stimulated her clit, as her wet, hot sex wrapped around his huge rodent dick.

She had no way to measure it, but he had to be the biggest male she’d ever been taken by.

Had to.

Bigger than Rikki!

Maybe eight inches!

Whatever the length, she was beholden to it.

It made her squirm.

Stretched her, filled her, drove her to such pleasured heights.

It made her moan.

And beg.

“Pleeease!” she cried. “Oh, please … ”

She was so, so close.

She could feel it.

The beaver humped faster, covering her completely. His tail smacked and thwacked at the metal body of the truck.

She wrapped her wing-arms around him.

Oh, she wanted, needed to—

Squirt!

SQUIRT!

The bat gushed all over Braxton’s heavy, swinging balls as she came, losing all control. For a second, she blanked out. She didn’t know up from down, light from dark. Her senses were reeling!

She was also an echo-bursting fool, shooting off an artillery of super high-pitched squeaks, ears swiveling to turn them into mental images as they returned to her.

She saw herself, her expression, beneath the hunky, rutting beaver.

And it made her cum again.

Her toes curled. Eyes squeezed shut. And her fangs showed as her maw opened, staying open, greedily sucking for air.

“Oh … ohh! Ohhhhhh … ”

“Holy shit!” the beaver mumbled, eyes widening, caught completely off-guard by Persis’ intense (and wet) release. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a girl do that.

Huffing and puffing, he threw himself even deeper into the act, into her. Firm, full thrusts, diving into her deepest depths.

“Ah, yeahhhhh,” he groaned happily as he finally joined her. Copious amounts of seed! So much it was already seeping back out of her before he was finished ejaculating.

Persis shook beneath him.

“Y’okay, sweet?” he panted, nuzzling her face. “Heh, that was fun!"

“I … yeah, I n-never … ”

“S’okay, s’okay … I got ya. There ya go. Slow breaths.” Laying atop her, he rubbed his paws up and down her back.

The bat nodded her bright orange head. Finally able to speak without stammering, she insisted, “I don’t usually make a mess like that. I swear.” She was so embarrassed! “I’m sorry.”

“What’s there t’be sorry ‘bout?”

“I totally ruined your quilt … ”

“Hah!” The beaver snorted. “S’fine. Not a family heirloom or nothin’. We sell plenty more like it at my store.” He smirked. “An’ I made ya do it, so ya can’t take all the blame.”

She blushed. “I guess …”

He nibbled on her shoulder and neck with his prominent teeth. “It was good, yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“There ya go, then.”

Persis hugged him tightly.

He stroked and nuzzled her. “I wasn’t too rough on ya, was I? Beavers got some bulk to us.”

“No, I like how strong you are,” she confessed. “You said maybe I needed to feel safe? You made me feel that way.”

The beaver closed his eyes, nuzzling his cheek to hers. “I’m glad.”

They rested for a moment before the beaver pulled out of her. Had no choice, really, as he’d started shrinking. He hopped out of the truck, standing naked in her backyard.

“Wanna, um, come inside?” the bat asked, sitting up and running her wingtip through her head-fur. “We, uh, both really need a shower after that … ” An understatement! Their fur was wet, matted. They were both a mess. And very much scented of each other.

“I’ll clean up at my house.” He lived on the other side of town. Which, in a place this small, was only five minutes away. “Gotta be at work early, y’know?” He was already putting his pants back on.

“I understand. Me, too, actually.” The post office opened at 8:30. She had to be there by eight o’clock. For a moment, she’d forgotten work existed! That’s how good tonight had been.

“Otherwise, I would. Promise,” he added, helping her out of the truck. “I just think we’d get distracted washin’ together.”

“Probably.”

The still-naked bat, dripping his seed to the grass, felt incredibly self-conscious. Again. It just wouldn’t go away. She lowered her chin.

“Can, uh … can we maybe do this again?” she breathed. Realizing how that sounded, she quickly corrected amended, “Not just the sex. Not that … not that I wouldn’t want more. I do, but … it’s not … ” She trailed off, shaking her head.

What if he said no?

Why had she fallen for him so quickly?

Was she really that lonely and starved for lasting affection?

She must be.

Charlie had not only seen that but went out of her way to do something about it.

She’s a good friend.

Shirtless and handsomely muscular (no matter what he said about himself), Braxton lifted Persis’ chin with a paw.

“A second date? Ya better believe it, hun. I’ll be busy durin’ the Festival, but I’ll text ya sometime next week.”

The bat smiled happily.

“M’kay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, let’s get your clothes and get ya inside!” He patted her rump. “I’m not leavin’ ‘til I know you’re indoors.”

Later that night, just after nine o’clock.

The harvest moon had finally risen! Majestic and imperial, it lorded above all, casting the town and surrounding countryside in a milky, celestial glow.

After a busy day in the fields, Emerson was sprawled across the living room couch in his cozy farmhouse.

Charlie wandered in, carrying a bowl of popcorn. She shoveled it into her maw.

“Twins are … ommf, mm, asleep. Finally.” Chomp-chomp! “That Azalea! She’s trouble!” The squirrel swallowed, standing in front of her mate. “Takes after you.”

“Me? Mm.” He looked up and made a ‘no way’ face. “Believe that if you want.”

“Facts are facts! Omff, om.”

“Careful! You’re spilling popcorn all over,” Emerson said, sitting up and picking up every piece she dropped.

“You’re so squeaky clean, Emmy,” Charlie said as she moved his legs and sat beside him.

“One of us has to be.”

She looked at the TV, handing him the silver popcorn bowl. “Yo. Which one is this?”

“Discovery. One of the newer shows.” Emerson carefully chose one piece of popcorn at a time and nibbled on them. “I’ve seen this one before, though. You can talk over it.”

“What makes you think I have somethin’ to say?”

“You always do.” Putting the bowl on the coffee table, he reached down to hold one of her paws, their fingers lacing together. Gold and bronze. “You’re like a shooting star, coming in fast and hot. No one knows what’ll happen when you hit, but we know it’ll be a wild ride.”

What the squirrel took from that was: “I am hot, aren’t I?”

“Heh. Sizzling.”

The mates traded a brief kiss before the squirrel whipped out of her phone. “Speaking of! Look what Persis sent me. About ten minutes ago.”

Emerson squinted at Charlie’s phone. “What are these? Hieroglyphics?”

“Silly!” She used a claw to direct his attention. “Truck plus log of wood plus peach plus tidal wave plus heart?”

“Um … ” He drew blanks and gave up.

“She got laid!”

“Oh! Right.” He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. “Congratulations?”

“Thanks!” Charlie said, folding her paws behind her head. “Yup. She likes him. I knew she would.”

“So … it happened in a truck?”

“Don’t judge!”

“I’m not. I’m just asking.”

“We’ve done it around vehicles before. On and in,” she clarified. “Trucks, tractors, combines.”

“The last one was a bad idea.” He frowned. “I almost threw out my back.”

“Why’d you do it, then?”

“You can very … convincing.”

“Are your ears blushing?”

“It’s just the light … don’t touch it. Charlie!”

She put a fingertip on the edge of one, quickly pulling it back. “They’re hot as frying pans!”

“Alright, alright. I’m blushing,” Emerson mumbled. “What’s new about that?”

“I thought I’d rubbed all the shyness out o’ you by now.”

“Ha. Not all of it. Mice produce it naturally, see.”

“According to science? Or according to you?”

He crossed his arms. “I don’t have to reveal my sources.”

The fox squirrel tapped his nose. “Cutie!”

Emerson’s eyes crossed and he barely fought back a sneeze.

Settling down, they ate more popcorn and watched the show.

On screen, a ship-to-ship battle broke out, followed by a commercial break.

Emerson scrunched his gold-cream muzzle and asked, “Does the, uh, wave emoji mean what I think it does?”

“What do you think it means?” Charlie replied, tail swishing.

They exchanged a glance.

Emerson drew a whisker-twitching breath, ears hotter than before.

Charlie waggled her brow. “Eh?”

Five minutes later, the TV was off, teeth were brushed, and they were in bed.

Making waves.