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  "I don't think Jane's excited about the possibility of mating," either Mark or Clark said.

  "Me either," the other twin responded. "What if I get an ugly chick?"

  The Gathering happened once a year. The local packs joined at the full moon and they would shift. The celebration often included mating of wolfs marked by the moon. The last part always made Jane uneasy.

  The unmated wolves in the pack often would disappear for hours with whoever they paired off with. The whole afterwards always brought stories that began with "oh hell no” or "you wouldn't guess who I ended up with”.

  It wasn't like she wasn't proud of her people. It was that they were so liberal about things such as carnal relations with different people. Okay, so it was the wolves in them that were uncaring of those things. The animal nature would not be denied its needs.

  They didn't have sex in animal form. They would shift into human form and do it. The whole thing was strange to explain, but Jane understood it. Her wolf did, anyway.

  Another thing that would happen during the Gathering was that if you happened to have sex with the person who was your mate, then boom, that was it, you were mated for life.

  Jane shifted in her seat and blew out a raspberry. "So when exactly is the Gathering?"

  Charlene laughed. "You can't get out of it."

  "I know," Jane snapped. "I just want to prepare myself.” Since her parents weren't due to arrive until the following week, she was pretty sure they were coming in case she mated with someone.

  She slumped in her chair. "Who all is coming?"

  "About fifty or so. It's gonna be small this year since the pack split last year. Besides our small pack, the pack from Coont County.” The men around the table grunted at the mention of the rival pack.

  There had been a challenge to the alpha pack leader and after hours of fighting without a clear winner, the pack decided to split. Her second cousin Melvin, who was an asshole in her opinion, led the other pack. He'd decreed they would not join in any events with the current pack. Instead they kept to themselves.

  Uncle Walt, who looked every bit the mechanic in a Jesse James kind of way, led her pack. Muscled and tattooed, he looked every bit late thirties, when in actuality he was closer to eighty. Wolves lived about one and a half times longer than humans. Traditionally, most pack leaders ruled over a pack until death or losing a challenge. But laws had been revised so that leadership changed every ten years.

  It made sense since it kept overeager leaders from becoming dictators over a pack for a lifetime.

  That night, Jane sat with the other younger people around a bonfire. She was introduced to Bonnie, who'd married Charlene's son, Junior, just recently. They lived in the neat house with the ferns.

  Uncle Walt's brother, Mike, lived in the last house. He and his mate had a daughter, Coy, and two sons, all mated and living nearby.

  "So Bonnie, where are you from?" Jane asked the shy blond who kept offering everyone oatmeal raisin cookies that she'd just made.

  "Not too far, in Clyde County." Bonnie lifted the plastic container. "Cookie?"

  "No thanks, I had half a dozen already," Jane replied, lying. She'd had one and it had exploded in her gut. The things were good, but heavy.

  "I'll take another one, Sugar." Junior leaned over and pressed a wet, sloppy kiss on Bonnie's neck. Bonnie giggled and Jane tried not to make a hurling sound.

  "Are you looking forward to the Gathering?" Bonnie asked in her high girlie voice. "I wonder if you'll get mated."

  "Is that what happened to you two?"

  Bonnie giggled. "No. We met at a club and had a wild fling. Who knew we'd end up mated. My dad had a cow."

  To his credit, Junior was somewhat attractive, but he was goofy. Always reminded Jane of a cartoon, with a thick mop of hair and crooked grin. The guy who told corny jokes no one laughed at and never seemed to look dressed up, even in a tuxedo...that guy...that was Junior.

  Bonnie was quite the opposite. Petite with a short blond bob, she was dressed in khaki shorts and a bright pink blouse. She wore strappy sandals showcasing neatly manicured feet. She looked like an ad for Teen magazine, pearl earrings and all.

  Jane let out a sigh. "I don't think I'm ready for a mate. Too much to do to be settled down with a male."

  "Aren't you like almost thirty?" Mark asked with a scowl. "You're getting old."

  "Shut up Mark," Jane snapped. "I wouldn't talk. I bet your testicles are starting to droop."

  Bonnie giggled and Junior barked out laughing while Mark slid a glance at his twin's crotch, then his own.

  Friday night was warm, as most late spring days tended to be in the south. With the top off her Jeep Wrangler, Jane motored down the two lane road as Luke Bryan’s voice boomed from her speakers singing about country girls shaking it.

  Excited to not only get away from her kooky family, but also to see the cute trooper, she smiled when spotting the sign for Kenny D's. She pulled in to the dirt parking lot and found a space between two trucks. Everyone in Jasper drove trucks it seemed. She wondered which one was the trooper's.

  Country rock spilled out from the nondescript bar when the door opened as patrons walked in. She adjusted the strap on her small, cross body purse and smoothed her blouse. She wore shorts, an off the shoulder top and cowboy boots.

  Having pulled her long hair into a high ponytail, she felt rather cute. When she walked in, the men's heads turning gave her an extra boost of confidence, until everyone hollered and she realized two popular local athletes had walked in right behind her.

  One of them patted her on the ass and she elbowed him, satisfied at his loud grunt.

  Once inside, she made a beeline for an empty space at the bar. From there, Jane hoped to be able to spot Mr. Hot Trooper.

  "Hey." He'd obviously spotted her upon entering because the man materialized in front of her. "Thought you might stand me up.” His easy smile made funny things happen to her belly and hoohaw. Yep, the guy was deliciously beautiful.

  "Hey yourself," she replied, glad her voice hadn't pitched with the elevation of her hormones. "How are ya?"

  "Good now," he replied, his gaze scanning over her. "You look amazing."

  "Well anything's better than rolling on the ground laughing."

  They laughed and he took her elbow, leading her to a nearby table. "Want a drink?"

  Once they settled and he returned from the bar with a beer, Jane leaned into his ear. "We don't know each other's first names."

  He turned and she could smell his aftershave. Resisting the urge to lick his jaw, she moved back a bit.

  "You're Jane Johnson."

  "How did... Never mind.” Small town, not to mention he probably ran her plates.

  He winked and raised the beer to his lips.

  Jane lifted a brow. "And your name is?"

  "Brock."

  And, once again, she felt that sensation of her vagina putting out a welcome mat and dropping a path of rose petals leading in. Just his throaty, deep voice reciting the alphabet would probably put her in orgasmic heaven.

  "Uh...yeah, okay...nice to know you Brock.” Giggle, hair twirl, eyelash flutter.

  Lame.

  Chapter Three

  In her defense, she was only there for two weeks and would probably never see him again. Secondly, if she got mated the following week, she’d regret forever not seeing Brock Murphy naked.

  So when they arrived at his house, she was not one bit remorseful at having a one-night stand. He backed her up against the front door and covered her mouth while grinding his rock hardness against the welcome mat she'd put out earlier that was now decorated with twinkle lights and balloons.

  They stumbled into his darkened interior and continued kissing while he walked her backwards to where she assumed was a bed.

  "I want to see you." He flipped on a light switch, bathing the room with soft light. Okay, so he'd done this a time or two.

  They fell onto his bed. Jane raked her fingernails through his
hair and wrapped her legs around his thighs. Damn if she wasn't about to rock this man's world. She'd use every wolf trick to suck him dry.

  "You're so fuckin' sexy." His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. A dirty talker, now that was an added bonus.

  "Oh yeah," Jane responded, pushing him away. "Strip down officer."

  More than willing, he moved back and began unbuttoning the black shirt. His gaze never left hers.

  When he let the shirt fall to the floor, those magical fingers covered his belt buckle and he unfastened it.

  Jane's breath caught in her throat. He was muscular, not in a bulky, too many veins way, but in a "damn, I want to lick you all over” kind of way.

  "You want to see how much I want you?" he asked, sliding the belt out. It was pretty obvious by the bulge in his jeans. But she was more than willing to meet Mr. Happy in person, uncovered.

  His fingers popped the top button and bells rang. Or maybe it was beeping...

  "Murphy," he spoke into a radio contraption and a loud rattle of numbers and codes spewed back out.

  While he listened, Jane watched his bulge soften. "Fuck," she mumbled when he went to his closet.

  He said something to the effect of, "Ten four, copy and I can't do Jane since some idiot drunk just killed any chances of getting laid tonight,” into the radio. So not quite those words, but that's what she heard.

  "Sorry, sweetheart. Some guy stabbed someone at Kenny's." In one minute flat, he was in uniform, gun and all.

  Admittedly, she'd caught a glimpse of him in his underwear and socks, but it hadn't been so sexy as she'd hunted for her shoes and purse so they could walk out together.

  "How was the date?" Charlene sat on her front porch in a rocker, smoking, when Jane got out of her car. "Did you see him naked?"

  Jane went over and plopped down next to her. "Kinda."

  "I want every little detail," Charlene said lifting a beer to her lips. "Every glorious detail."

  "He got called in for some drunk and disorderly. So we didn't get to do much."

  "Damn it." Her aunt took a long drag. "Fucking drunks."

  "My thoughts exactly, although they probably prevented me from making a big mistake. You know those things happen for a reason."

  "No they don't. People just made that shit up to feel better about fucked up things happening."

  "Hey, what you doin'?" Her Aunt Scootie ambled over. "Why you two sitting in the dark lookin' pitiful?"

  "We're both hornier than three peckered billy goats," Charlene explained. "No man in sight."

  "I thought you had a date." Scootie frowned at Jane. "He wouldn't put out?"

  "He got a call," Jane said, grabbing Charlene's beer. "I'm not horny. Not anymore, anyways."

  "You'll be nice and rested for the picnic tomorrow."

  Jane sat straight up. "What picnic? No one said anything about a picnic."

  "Out at the fairgrounds. The families get in free and we're gonna cook out. Walt's putting up a big tent for us." Scootie waved her arms in the air. "It's gonna be a blast."

  A chuckle escaped at the picture in her mind. A bunch of crazy wolves at the state fair. Traveling fairs and such were a common place for nonhumans to work. Every state fair she'd ever attended had weres, vamps and witches. And where there were witches, there was always drama. "I can't wait." Jane looked around. "I think I need another beer."

  "Go on in and get it. While you're at it, bring two more." Charlene sat back and rocked. "Damn straight, we gonna have us a blast at the fair. Maybe I'll chase a vamp down and get some cold cock.” She leaned sideways laughing. "I bet they can keep it up longer than a wolf."

  "You are stupid," Scootie told her sister and attempted to keep a straight face.

  Of course, the next morning, if the thudding in her temples wasn't enough to wake her up, booming bass speakers completed the job. Jane pulled a pillow over her head in an attempt to block it out.

  "What the hell is going on?" she growled, stumbling to the window.

  The twins were washing their trucks. In low hung shorts and no shirts, it was like an ad for a strip show. Then again, it was a show. On top of a picnic table, two girls danced, jiggling like worms on a hook.

  Jane dropped her arms to her sides and watched, wondering how long it would be before they finished washing the trucks and took their dates to the pancake house.

  Shuffling to the kitchen in search of coffee and medication, she couldn't help but admire the knife block and pictured stabbing the speakers outside to death.

  True weres didn't need much sleep and rarely got hangovers, which made one even harder to deal with.

  Somewhere between her sixth beer and a cigarette, she'd agreed to try some of Charlene's homemade apple pie moonshine.

  The sweet concoction was so good, she'd drunk it like sweet tea over ice. Now, as she stared bleary-eyed toward her aunt's house, she hoped the woman felt at least half as bad.

  As if on cue, Charlene popped out the front door with both arms in the air. "That's my jam!" she screamed. With the agility of a gazelle on crack, she ran to the picnic table and joined the worm session. The only difference was that Charlene was thirty years older and didn't quite have the same moves.

  The twins laughed and clapped when Charlene lost her balance and fell off the bench. "Way to go Auntie!" Mark said, then bent over laughing.

  The laughter stopped abruptly when Charlene smacked him upside the head. "Shut up, boy.” She limped to the porch step, plopped down and inspected her scrapes.

  "I swear I'm going to kill those two," Aunt Scootie mumbled, joining Jane at the window. "Don't have a lick of sense between the both of them."

  Her aunt's gaze traveled over her. "You look like roadkill on a summer day. All bloated, busted and smelly."

  "Thanks." Jane swallowed down her pills. "I feel like it, too."

  Scootie stared at the women on the picnic table. "Those two hoochies need to sit down before they break a hip."

  "I think they're trying to be sexy," Jane said, watching the show. "Bet the boys think it is."

  Scootie huffed. "Those two get a boner every time the wind shifts. They don't need to be seduced.” She opened the door. "Turn that shit down and get your dates home!"

  Nonplussed, Clark ran over. "We're fixin' to go to the pancake house. Want anything?"

  "No. By the time you bring it back, it will be older than my house shoes." Scootie pushed him back and slammed the door.

  "So what do you have planned today?" Jane asked sipping her coffee. "Dollar Store or maybe Piggly Wiggly?"

  "Nope, making breakfast. Afterwards, get dressed. Dale's coming over."

  "What?" Jane squeaked. "Why?"

  "While you were out with the cop, I went to play bingo at the VFW. He came to pick up his mama, we got to talkin', I invited him to stop by. "

  Despite being mad at her aunt for insisting on the whole Dale thing, she took extra care with her appearance. After a hearty breakfast and a hot shower, she felt human again. Or as close as a shifter could get to being human, anyway.

  When knocks sounded, her heart skipped so many beats that she feared a heart attack was imminent. The heart thundering was either the thought of seeing Dale or the damn moonshine had done something to her ticker.

  The mumble of Dale's deep voice made her knees wobble and she sat on the bed. What would she say to him? So many times, she'd gone over in her mind what she'd say to him if she ever ran into him.

  Two years earlier, when visiting, she'd spotted him inside a convenience store. Instead of speaking, she'd ducked behind a display of pork rinds. To this day, she couldn't eat or smell a pork rind without thinking of Dale.

  "Hey! Come say hello," Scootie called out.

  After one more look in the mirror and a toss of her hair so it wouldn't look like she'd tried too hard, Jane walked out.

  Dale stopped speaking mid-sentence. His dark brown eyes widened, narrowed and then swept down and back up.

  Two thoughts occurred to J
ane. He didn't know she was visiting and the man was hotter than she remembered. And by the tightening of her nether regions, still very much the only man that could rock her world with a look.

  "Hey." Dale looked to her aunt and then back to her. "Didn't know you were in town."

  "Yep.” Jane smiled.

  "It's been a while."

  "Yep." Okay so her vocabulary shrunk considerably. Try as she might, Jane couldn't remember another word to save her life.

  Scootie gave her a pointed look. "Why don't you fix Dale a cup of coffee? I'm going to the Walmart with Charlene to get picnic stuff. It'll give you two time to catch up."

  Dale followed Jane to the coffee pot and stood way too close. Not a bad “way too close”, but the smell of his aftershave and warmth of his body heat made her want to jump up, wrap her legs around him and hump him like an alley cat.

  "So," Jane said, grateful for a new word. "What have you been up to?" Besides cheating on whoever you're dating now.

  "Got a new job." His easy smile made her want to slap him for some reason. Why wasn't he nervous? Probably because, unlike her, no one had cheated on him. He didn't hold a grudge like she did and had not ended up on a rebound relationship with a vampire after seeing her with another wolf. And by the graceful way he moved, she didn't affect him one bit.

  "At the John Deere plant?"

  "Nope," he replied and shook his head. "I haven't worked there in five years."

  So he'd quit right after she moved. Interesting.

  "Didn't your Uncle Walt tell you? I own the shop next to his. He does mechanical work, I do custom stuff."

  "Like what?"

  "Restorations. Paint jobs. That kind of stuff."

  Jane scratched her head. "Daddy watches a show about that. He loves it. It's called Southern Power or something like that."

  Dale grinned. "Good to know I have a fan in your family."

  Her eyes widened. How stupid of her not to have realized it. Of course. Dale's last name was Powers. It never occurred to her. "It's your show? How did that happen?"

  "Long story short, went to a car show in Nashville. Some television execs were there looking for a new idea. I told them about my shop and the rest is history."