Read Werewolf Wedding for Free Online Page B

us with the bones piled up. “No, make that five. You just ate five three-quarter pound ribeyes,” I said, staring in awe at the creature before me. As it turns out, there aren’t really any steakhouses here worth a damn, so I got all bold and brought Jake to the grocery store, and then back to my place. In the freezing-ass cold, we fired up the grill and he kept me warm next to his radiant body for the approximately forty seconds that the steaks were cooked.
    “And the potatoes,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “How many of those?”
    “Just four, but you did have bacon, sour cream, butter, and for some reason a fried egg on them.”
    “It’s great,” he said. “Just great, you really should try it sometime. Fry the egg just barely, and the yolk almost makes its own sauce. Was it good for you?”
    The way he asked that made me laugh. “Well, yeah of course. I love steak, and potatoes, and salad and beer and pie and more steak and another potato.”
    For my part, I’d eaten most of a ribeye, my entire potato sans the fried egg, and a couple of rolls. Oh, and the Key Lime pie. Can’t forget that. He’d eaten the rest of it with my piece gone. “But I’m stuffed full. I feel like my guts are gonna run out of my ears. I have no idea how you inhaled that much food, but I’m glad you knew you would. I’d hate to have a hungry Jake running around.”
    “I’m not gonna be running any time soon,” he said. “Why the hell did I eat that whole pie?”
    “More like ‘how’, I’d ask. There isn’t an ounce of fat on your body. I’ve never seen anyone eat like that, especially not someone who looks like you. Did you learn some kind of wild secret from Dr. Oz?”
    Jake’s gaze fell on me, his eyes warming my soul the same way that touching him warmed my body. “No,” he said with such gravitas that it kind of made my stomach quiver. “I just have a fast metabolism. It, uh, runs in the family.”
    “Man, you have a hell of a family,” I said, a smile crossing my lips before I realized what I’d said.
    Son of a bitch, why did I drink that fourth beer? Now I’ve gone and done it. His crazy brother told me not to say anything, so what’s the first thing I do? Get lubed up with alcohol and start blabbing. Jeez, Dilly, way to go. Of course, he also is a stranger who threatened me, so... maybe singing like a canary isn’t the worst idea.
    “How do you mean?” he got very serious all of a sudden. I mean, I knew that I had prodded a sore spot – or at least I figured as much – but I didn’t expect the sudden shift. “Did something happen?”
    “Er,” I looked at the table and shoved my potato around the plate before sticking my knife in the side and taking another bite just to have something in my mouth except for my foot, which was currently taking up a whole lot of the room. He waited patiently while I chewed and swallowed. “I mean, we all have crazy families. Right? We all have crazy brothers who... I mean, sisters, too. And dads. Holy shit, in my case it was totally my sister and my dad.”
    Slowly, Jake closed his eyes. “Is that so?” he asked, with them still shut.
    Open mouth, insert beer, and then insert foot. Don’t stop with the foot though, go ahead and jam it in there up to the ankle. Maybe even the calf. Fantastic work, Dilly, you got him to come to your house, you made him a pile of meat, and then you immediately start talking about his brother. And THEN you try and cover it up with really obvious, and if we’re being honest here, shitty, lies. Perfect plan.
    “Yeah,” I opened my eyes wider, like I was trying to use willpower to get him to open his telekinetically.
    I have this thing I do. It isn’t like normal nervous rambling. When I get nervous, or scared, or in the throes of a panic attack, or apparently after four high alcohol beers, I say things before my brain manages to calculate exactly what I’m saying. Everyone does that, but with mine, it doesn’t stop there. My