smile turned pouty. “I’ll be at the bar, if you change your mind.”
I won’t.
Tristan tipped his head, then picked up the beer mug and swallowed the ale without tasting it. Sonia sashayed toward her friends. She was the fourth she-wolf he’d turned down tonight. If he kept at it, he wouldn’t get laid.
For the past two months, he’d missed the full-moon fuck. The first time, Ruby had fallen ill and he’d taken her to the hospital. The second, he got called in to help a neighboring town’s law enforcement deal with a multicar collision that had resulted in a dozen casualties.
Tonight, Tristan had no choice. He had to have sex or run the risk of elevated wolfan hormones awakening his beast.
An unexpected electric charge pulsed along his nerves. His heartbeat kicked up two notches. Before the restaurant doors opened, he made a guess at who would enter. Even though he shouldn’t, he couldn’t wait to see her.
Penelope cautiously stepped into the restaurant. Tonight, her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. She wore white jeans and a billowy black blouse that hid her generous curves.
Curves his hands ached to feel again and that had tormented him in his dreams.
Intense desire spread through his body like a wildfire during a drought. The full-moon effects were starting early.
A tumble with her might be foremost on his mind, but was definitely not on his agenda. He’d pegged her as a forever kind of woman and he needed to stay far, far away from her.
Her confident stance was slightly marred by her uncertain gaze as she eyeballed her surroundings. Though she failed to notice him, Tristan couldn’t drag his attention from her.
The hostess greeted her and picked up one menu.
Here alone and not expecting anyone.
His evening just got better and more complicated. Not unlike felines, curiosity often got the best of wolfans. And he wanted to know why she’d specifically called out for him, Friday night.
Watching Penelope follow the hostess to a table, he scooted back from his own.
“Tristan!” A feminine squeal rang in his left ear. Slender arms lassoed his neck and a sloppy kiss dampened his cheek.
Damn!
He hated being blindsided. Keeping a tight cap on his irritation, Tristan focused on the woman making a concerted effort to squeeze onto his lap.
“Hello, doll.” Tristan didn’t budge an inch to allow her room.
He searched her vaguely familiar features but couldn’t recall her name. Heavy perfume and cigarette smoke clung to her skin, so her scent was no help in identifying her, either.
“Long time no see,” she said, all breathy and dramatically animated. “I hoped you would be here.”
“And so I am.” He consciously smiled, racking his brain for a name.
A name, a name, he’d give up his dinner to remember her name.
Well, maybe not. Wolfans loved to eat.
Shoving back the table, she managed to wedge herself onto his lap. Her arms draped his shoulders. Long, red nails raked his hair.
Huh!
Not one single spark. He felt absolutely nothing.
What the hell was wrong with him?
A full moon, a willing woman and not one flicker of interest. He might’ve suspected some type of dysfunction if not for his reaction to Penelope.
“What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?” Not that he cared, but her response might help him figure out her identity.
“Kenny and I divorced. The rat bastard skipped out on child support so the kids and I had to move back to Maico to live with my mom.” Tears glistened in her heavily painted eyes.
Somehow, Tristan got the feeling her sorrow stemmed more from living with her mother than the divorce. Or maybe it was his skewed perception of family.
He would cry, too, if he had to live with his parents again. Neither loving nor caring, his parents could hardly be in the same room without a fight breaking out.
If they were human, a divorce would’ve sent them happily on their separate ways. As wolfans, a mate-claim bound them for life. Even if it was accidental, as it was in their case, the claim was irrevocable.
“Here ya go, Slick.” Angeline slid him a glass of ice water he hadn’t ordered. One perfectly curved auburn brow arched and she looked pointedly at the womanly octopus tangling him with her tentacles.
“Thanks, Sassy.” He gave Angeline a bug-eyed stare. She had been his friend long enough to recognize the SOS.
Humor played on her lips and she actually looked ready to walk away without tossing him a lifeline. He squinted a dire warning.
Angeline’s teasing gaze locked on Tristan, then dropped to the woman in his lap. “Long time no see, Deidre.”
The name exploded in Tristan’s ears. In disbelief, he stared at the woman who had been his high-school sweetheart. Short platinum hair, steely gray eyes lined with thick black smudges, pouty lips painted dark red against a weathered canvas obscured the traces of the pretty girl he’d once dated. Tristan’s heart gave a tiny squeeze. When he’d ended the relationship with Deidre, he’d truly wanted her to find happiness. The haggard look behind the heavy makeup suggested she hadn’t.
“What do you think?” Deidre said to Angeline as the clamor in Tristan’s ears faded. “Do we still look the same as we did in high school?”
“Um...” Angeline’s head tilted as if picturing them then and now.
Clenching his jaw, Tristan felt his mouth pull tight and his brow wrinkle.
“Oh, yeah.” Angeline laughed. “Now you look exactly like I remember.”
“Thanks,” Tristan muttered. Back then, he was an infatuated fool and believed he could beat his family legacy of high drama.
It didn’t take long to learn that he couldn’t. When his and Deidre’s behavior began to mirror his parents’, Tristan ended the relationship before the unthinkable happened and he accidentally claimed her. Under no circumstances did he want to be in a relationship that he couldn’t escape.
“After all this time, we’ve found each other again.” Deidre beamed. “It’s kismet.”
“I don’t believe in that crap.” The humor faded from Angeline’s eyes.
“Deidre,” Tristan interrupted before Angeline launched a tirade about fate and fairy tales and not so happily-ever-afters. “My leg is falling asleep, doll. Would you mind moving?” To another table? Another restaurant? Another town?
“How about some company for supper?” Deidre stroked
