Chapter 9
“I’m not just saying this,” Jack says, flipping up the mask beneath his bunny suit. I hand him a bottle of water and he tips it back, taking a drink. “But this is honestly the best Eggstravaganza yet.”
Smiling, I point out the obvious. “Yeah, it could be, but to be fair, this is your first year actually participating. You’re usually lingering in the carrot fields, you know?”
He passes the water back to me and grins. “That’s true.” One quick peck of my lips has whiskers erupting from his face, and he quickly flips the mask down in response. “You gave me life here in Carrot Creek, Esther, and I can’t wait for tonight.”
The mask moves as Jack sniffs, leaning in, his voice gravelly in my ear when he adds, “I can smell you’re excited for tonight, too.”
My cheeks flame. “I am. Very.”
A child runs up, her basket without eggs, tears in her eyes. “Mister Easter! Help! I need eggs!”
Jack salutes her, and hops off, promising to help her find so many chocolate eggs that her basket is overflowing. I smile as I watch them go, then abruptly run into my sister when I turn around.
“Hi,” she greets, still limping around in fake bandages and crutches, so no one else figures out she was faking. She follows Jack and the little girl, watching them collect eggs in the field. “So tonight’s the night, right?”
After getting home last night, I let my sister ask any questions she might have. Truth be told, we’re both so well read that she didn’t have many, except when our official mating ceremony was going to happen.
I nod. “Yep.” Chewing my bottle lip, my fears jumble up on my tongue. My sister places her hand on my forearm, and smiles. “Scared?”
“Yeah,” I admit, stomach roiling as I watch Jack collect the girl on her shoulders, her blonde hair dancing in the wind as she tosses her head back in laughter.
“I don’t think there’s a version of Hopper that could ever hurt you,” she assuages, smiling.
I shake my head. “Oh, no, not that. I’m not afraid of Jack in any form.
” I face her, and drop my voice to a conspiratorial whisper since the entirety of Carrot Creek lingers around us.
“It’s just… Jack was super nervous that he’d shift uncontrollably at the festival today, and wanted to get it out of his system. ”
Chelsey squeals. “You guys did it?!”
Twenty different quickies flash through my mind, Hopper on his haunches, fucking me ruthlessly as he drapes me over the couch, Hopper bouncing me on his cock in the kitchen, Hopper thrusting his paw over his cock as I fuck myself with a carrot—and so much more.
We’ve been at it like bunnies this morning, trying so hard to make today as easy as it can be for Jack.
The bunny suit and mask is protection but he really doesn’t want to shift.
I’m just such a turn on to him that he can’t help it.
“We’ve been humping like bunnies to try and prevent Jack from shifting at the festival.”
Chelsey frowns. “And you didn’t tell me?”
I drag my palm over my forehead as the sun beats down on us, laughter heavy in the air. “I haven’t had time. Jack’s had me completely wrapped up,” I tell her, swallowing thickly against the memory of Hopper’s whiskers keeping my wrists bound above my head while his tongue fucked me.
“So what’s left tonight? If you guys have already done it?”
I smirk. “Tonight is the official mating ceremony.” I waggle my brows. “After he makes me his, the random shifting should stop.”
She makes a sweet pout. “Because he’s finally complete.”
I nod. “Yep. I complete him.”
She beams, and we’re about to embark on a thoughtful conversation when Mayor Goodall approaches, chocolate smudges in the corners of his mouth.
“Ms. Basquettes,” he greets us in plural. Chelsey gives half a smile, and sets her focus on the horizon, where kids are still hunting for plastic eggs filled with toys.
“Hi Mayor Goodall.”
He peeks around the busy pavilion, then sets his beady gaze on me. “Is it smaller this year? Seems smaller. Less folks.”
I shake my head. I know for a fact that more people are here this year than last year due to ticket sales. “Actually, no. The turn out is better this year. I guess the Basquette sisters are really a great team.”
He ignores this information, and closes the small gap between us, making us nearly toe-to–toe. “You think you’re so special, some big city girl coming to our small town to save some stupid Easter party, is that what you think?”
I blink madly at him, trying to calibrate to this weird aside conversation. “What? No, I love Easter, Easter’s great.” I take a beat and replay his words. “Wait, what?”
“This is the perfect weekend for my election campaign and you ruined it. You and your sister and stupid Jack Hopper.”
“Jack’s not stupid,” I protest, thoroughly confused as to what’s happening. “Easter is Carrot Creek’s favorite holiday, Mayor. I think you’re being unreasonable about your campaign.”
“No one is thinking about an election during Easter, Mayor.”
His cherub cheeks deepen in color, and I think steam even puffs out of his ears. “Carrot Creek should adore their mayor, not some fictional bunny!” he hisses, ears turning pink, too. “If you don’t cancel this event, I will out Jack as the monster that he is.”
Chelsey faints, her feet whizzing by my line of sight as I blink at Mayor Goodall, absolute shock rendering me motionless.
“What do you mean?” I manage, voice hoarse.
Peering out into the fields, I spot Jack right away, purple bunny suit nearly sparkling beneath the afternoon sun as he plucks a golden egg from the ground, passing it to a little boy.
Goodall points to the eave beneath the bakeshop, and I follow his line of sight, noticing a small black circle with a glowing center.
“Cameras, Ms. Basquette. I filled Carrot Creek with cameras so I could find out who has been destroying the town garden.” He gets even closer, his carrot breath making my stomach roil.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t want Carrot Creek to know that their beloved handyman is actually a monster. ”
Chelsey grumbles from the ground. “Shifter, not monster.”
“Were-bunny,” I correct, then narrow my gaze at Goodall, ready to call his bluff. I don’t want Jack to have to leave Carrot Creek, but in my heart, I believe the town loves Jack Hopper no matter what. And I’m about to show him and everyone else that very thing.
“Cancel the Eggstravaganza, Basquette.”
“Fuck off, Goodall,” Chelsey groans.
His eyes narrow. Mine narrow. In the distance, the instrumental song The Good, The Bad and the Ugly plays, but I don’t blink. I don’t flinch. I stand strong and tall for my man-bunny, willing to go to the mattresses for him. He’s my mate after all.
“Order! Order!” he calls, gathering the attention of the folks around us.
“Carrot Creek! Listen up! This is important!” He shouts, spit flying, temples pulsing.
He faces the crowd of people, and Chelsey eyes me.
We share a knowing glance, and she sneaks away, leaving me to face Goodall and the townspeople.
Goodall produces an iPad from an assistant nearby, and pulls up footage of Jack in the community garden from a few weeks ago, eating carrots.
“So what?” one voice calls.
“And?” Another adds.
“Sh, sh, just wait,” Goodall commands as I shift my weight nervously on my feet, nibbling the inside of my cheek.
The sneaking around has been stressful, and trying to keep Jack out of the public eye has proved challenging.
Carrot Creek is good people, and I believe the truth will resonate much more than any fabricated lie.
I know what’s going to happen on screen, so I instead cast my eyes to the crowd, to the moms in knit carrot sweaters, the dad’s wearing bunny ears, and the kids with baskets full of chocolates and toys. I watch their faces and– one little girl points, and every single set of eyes goes wide.
“He’s a bunny!” a girl calls.
“He turned into an animal?” one questions.
“He’s a monster! A devil! A creature from another world! It is unhuman to change from human to animal, and to think, he’s been hiding amongst us! Fixing our computers and pipes! Sneaking into our homes in his human disguise!” Goodall shouts, spreading his evil propaganda that is absolutely untrue.
Stepping toward the crowd forming, I’m ready to defend not just Jack but everyone who is different, everyone who lives outside of the expected form.
But Goodall casts his finger my way, eyes wide.
“And she’s going to tell you not to listen to me.
But can we trust an outsider? Can we trust someone who isn’t even from Carrot Creek? ”
Jack makes his way toward the pavilion, pieces of green grass clinging to the purple suit around his ankles and shins.
With the bunny mask pulled down over his face, he comes to stand between myself and Chelsey, facing Goodall.
The kids swarm him, begging to be picked up, swung, high-fived, chased, you name it.
Goodall cuts his eyes to the big purple bunny.
“Are you under that mask? Is that you in there, is it, Hopper?” He reaches out, yanking the plastic mask from Jack’s face, the elastic breaking, snapping against his cheek.
With the mask dangling from his hand, Goodall shoves the hood back, exposing Jack’s disheveled chestnut hair and wide, tawny eyes.
His cheeks flood with color, embarrassed to be the focus, humiliated by the scene splayed over the screen.
“You don’t understand,” he starts, voice thinning as he frantically scans the sea of townsfolk.
I survey their faces too but not a single one of them wears fear in their features, none of them look frightened, and in fact, the longer I look, the more curious they seem.
Still, Jack’s hands begin to tremble and I realize my mate is facing his lifelong fear of being exposed, ridiculed and exiled.
Stepping out of the crowd, I climb onto a white folding chair, one draped in yellow crepe paper, and cup my hands to my mouth. “Carrot Creek, listen up!”
Faces turn, and Jack whispers for me to step down, to not fight his battles, to not this, that, and the other. But I don’t listen and instead, take the iPad that my sister hands me.
“This is Jack Hopper. Of everything Mayor Goodall said, the only thing that is true is that yes, this is Jack Hopper in the security footage. But if he were a monster, wouldn’t terrible things be happening in Carrot Creek?
If he were a villainous heel, wouldn’t we hear stories of such?
If Jack were a bad bunny, wouldn’t there be a ripple of disaster in his wake?
” I look at Jack, and give him a soft smile.
“Jack Hopper is a were-bunny. He comes from a long line of them and guess where they are all from? Carrot Creek!” I face Jack, and prod him for answers to make my point that he is a vital part of this community, and no one to be feared or teased. “What was your dad’s name?”
Jack adjusts the mask nervously as he reties it and slips it back on. “Harry.”
“Harry Hopper, I remember him,” one silver-haired audience member murmurs. “Great guy.”
“Wasn’t that Jodie Hopper’s husband? Whatever happened to them?” another voice questions from the crowd.
Jack adjusts the hood on his head. “Yeah, um. Those are my parents. They left Carrot Creek years ago but they lived here for years before they married.”
“Great people,” an older woman says, smiling at Jack even though he’s in a mask and bunny suit.
“See?” I ask the townspeople. “Were-bunnies have been here for a long time and no one has been harmed or hurt from their presence. No one even knew.”
“It’s because they’ve been hiding, lying to us all about who they really are!” Goodall shouts, the veins in his temples bulging.
“Suck it, Goodall,” Chelsey says, shaking her head, making the crowd gasp.
She steps up onto a white chair next to me, cupping her hands to her mouth.
“I’m sorry to be vulgar but come on! Hiding?
Lying? This man has fixed something in every one of our homes over the years, he helps everyone when asked and expects nothing in return, he’s been with your children all day and after, he’s going to clean all this up with my sister with zero thanks.
Has he hid? No. Has he protected himself and who he is out of fear?
Yes. And can any one of you blame him? Look.
The Mayor learned something private about Mr. Hopper and what did he do?
Did he take him aside privately and talk to him, try and understand him?
No. What he did was secretly film him and show the whole town in an effort to humiliate him.
Hurt him, make him feel so alienated that he left the only place he calls home.
” She shakes her head, and the whole crowd cuts their eyes to Goodall, who scoffs, but realizes… no one is on his side.
“My sister came here to save the Eggstravaganza and Jack Hopper helped her! Jack Hopper should be the mayor!”
I shrug, wearing a smile from ear to ear as I ask the town what they want. “Carrot Creekers, what do you say? Should we make Mayor Goodall’s dreams come true and have the reelection campaign now? Let’s vote. All in favor of an impromptu vote, raise a hand.”
Hands fill the air. Jack finally tips his mask back beneath his hood, revealing a tangle of sweaty chestnut hair and shining eyes.
“Thank you,” he mouths to me with the mask tipped up a moment, and I wink, my insides clenching at the idea of being with him later.
It’s basically a wedding ceremony in the were-verse, and I’m so ready to be his.
“Okay, now that everyone has agreed to a vote—”
“I don’t agree,” Goodall stomps his foot like a toddler. “I don’t agree to a vote!”
“Majority wins, Goodall,” Chelsey says, smiling. She reaches out and grips my wrist, jerking my hand into the air. “Those who want Esther Basquette to be the mayor of Carrot Creek, raise your hand.”
My eyes sting with adoration for this town that I was so reluctant to visit, that I’d initially believed held nothing for me. And now they don’t just have Jack’s back, but they have mine, too.
“The town has spoken! On this Easter day of 2026, I declare Esther Basquette the Mayor!”
I motion Jack over, and he steps up onto a chair next to me and Chelsey. “Thank you for all of this,” he whispers. I run the backs of my knuckles down the furry side of his hood, careful not to touch him and make him undoubtedly shift.
“Anything for you, Jack. You’re my hoppy ending.”