by Abby Knox
She smiled and typed:
You’re an idiot if you think I’m letting you off the hook that easily.
Rosemary had followed Penny’s advice: low-heeled boots, knee-length wool skirt and navy-blue turtleneck sweater. Though she thoroughly enjoyed carrying around Ash’s marks on her body throughout her daily life, she was less than comfortable letting her daddy see the things this interloper had done to her. Her shoulders and her breasts were looking more like a spotted wildcat’s these days than a panther’s. Wildcat shifters? Please! Those were more of a Baton Rouge thing.
When she arrived at the DuChamps mansion, she was surprised to see how elaborate a dinner had been planned. The Limoges plates were out, in all their fine gilt-edged glory. The cut crystal water goblets, the good wine glasses, and every piece of silver, from shrimp forks to dessert spoons. Well, shit. This was going to be a long night.
Ash
At dinner, Ash made several mistakes. Instead of waiting for Lionel to taste the soup, Ash dove right into his bowl of lobster bisque and had it gone before Lionel even picked up his spoon. Rosemary smiled at him indulgently. Betsy smiled at Ash with an edge of condescension. Lionel simply gave him the hairy eyeball.
Ash had no idea what was going on. He was just trying to bolt down his dinner. And it all smelled like this was a really fuckin’ good dinner at that. Perhaps when they got married, he should offer this Lety person a job at the Boudreaux house, he thought. That would certainly put a hornet in old Lionel’s trousers, wouldn’t it?
The current situation, however, was more discomfiting to Ash. These DuChamps people evidently liked to luxuriate at the table, enjoy five or six courses, tell stories, listen to old Lionel pontificate about politics or religion or the state of the universe.
This was not a good night for Ash to be leisurely. He knew he was supposed to be here to get to know the family. He knew all of that. But this was just a really, really bad night for it.
Ask any emergency room staff, 911 dispatchers or cops, and they will tell all kinds of full-moon stories. There was a very good reason for those stories. Tonight was a full moon and Ash was about to make an impression on the DuChamps family that would land him squarely in the crazy and rude category.
It was already 8 p.m. and the main course had not even been served yet. Ash’s palms were starting to sweat, his hair follicles over his entire body were starting to tingle. He was getting abnormally hungry, and not just hungry for fancy rich people food. His legs were getting restless and telling him it was time to run. There was a rumble in his throat and all he wanted to do was tear off his clothes, go outside and howl at the moon.
This was not good.
To be honest, he was less worried about Lionel and Betsy as he was worried that now was not the ideal time to tell Rosemary the truth.
After the soup course, Lionel was forcing the staff to hold off on bringing the roast lamb because he was asking Ash deep-dive questions about his upbringing.
“Tell me, young man. What kind of car does your daddy drive these days? He still running around in that bright yellow Suburban with the tacky chicken on the top? That was a nightmare, wasn’t it?” He bellowed laughter as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
Ash’s annoyance at him wasn’t helping hold back the beast.
“Actually, we still have that old Sub, believe it or not. We keep it in the garage right next to Daddy’s classic Corvettes. He keeps it as a reminder to all us kids about his humble beginnings as an unknown chicken slinger. He still takes it out to parties and special events, upon request. It’s pretty popular.”
Lionel chuckled. “Ain’t that charming. Does it still play that god-awful jingle as it goes down the street?”
Ash saw Betsy shooting a warning glance over at Rosemary, but it was too late. His sweet baby girl was already launching into the whole song from beginning to end. “JB Chicken is Just the Best!”
Ash smiled at his sweet girl. It was nice having a cheerleader in his corner. He had always wanted to date a cheerleader, but they’d only ever been after his daddy’s money.
“Ashton wrote that jingle, Daddy. He’s extremely talented,” Rosemary chirped.
“I’ll bet he is,” drawled Lionel.
Ash decided to pull back to the question at hand. “And to answer the original question, Daddy drives a Tesla now,” he said proudly.
Lionel sat back and rubbed the front of his linen vest. “Well, isn’t that just the bee’s knees? He still driving himself around town? Too bad there’s not an option for an electric town car, or I’d have my driver look into it.”
Ash knew what Lionel was doing. He was trying to put him in his place by boasting about how the DuChamps family members didn’t need to drive themselves around town because they had drivers. Well, that would never suit old Jimmy Boudreaux and it wouldn’t suit Ash. They were men, after all. They liked to drive. Manual, if possible. Shit, Ash even still enjoyed doing donuts in the mud with his crew whenever the mood struck. A driver? Fuck that.
But he kept all of that to himself. He was here to help Rosemary, he was here to help her get her mom and dad’s approval, not to bring up old useless rivalries that had nothing to do with Ash or Rosemary.
Ash remembered his yoga breathing. But pretty soon it wouldn’t matter. He really wished he could hurry this night up.
Finally, he gave Rosemary a pleading look and pointed to his watch. She looked at him with an arched eyebrow and ever so slightly shook her head “no.”
They say you only get once chance to make a first impression. Well, Ash decided he was just going to have to work harder on a second impression at another time, because he was about to drown this first impression like a rat in a toilet bowl.
The alpha was coming out, and he had no choice but to let it happen. Picking a fight with the old man and storming out was better than pretending to be sick and hobbling out like a pansy ass. Besides, fake sick and you’re sure to have the mother and the staff fussing over you and even worse, offering to make you some mint tea or some other nonsense.
So he dove in again and rattled off some stats, whether or not Lionel was asking.
“Let’s see, sir. I’m sure there are plenty of other things you’d like to know about me while we wait on you to give the signal to the staff to reheat those delicious-smelling lamb shanks. So let’s get to the point. I never graduated college. My one major accomplishment was writing the JB Chicken jingle and I’ve been living off the residuals of that ever since. I work full time for an ad agency because it’s fun. Mostly I travel all over the world just going where the wind takes me. I like to drink whisky, but I’m not real particular about fine bottles of Scotch. I’m in a flag football league with a bunch of kids in the Lower Ninth Ward. I like to fish and hunt and I even dress my own kill. I love Mardi Gras parades like a drunk tourist on steroids—the tackier the better—and ain’t nothing going to change that. My sister Andie is transsexual is running for a state senate seat against one of your DuChamps brethren, I do believe, and also, finally, none of us are remotely Catholic.” Now Ash’s voice was starting to change. He could hear it himself. It was getting lower, louder and was starting to have an edge of a growl in it.
“Actually,” Ash continued, on a roll, “not a single one of us goes to church at all. So if that’s all fine and good with you, sir, now I’d like your blessing for your daughter’s hand in marriage. And if I don’t get it, well that’s OK too, because you know what? Your daughter is a got-damn adult and she will get married anyway. No offense to you, Rosemary’s mom. You seem like a real nice lady.”
Betsy was utterly silent, as usual.
Everyone, even Lety, waited wide-eyed for Lionel to speak.
They didn’t have to wait long. Hs voice came out like a crack of thunder. Probably his pounding of the table helped with that. “What in the Sam Hill are you thinking, coming into my house, talking to me this way? If you think I’m gonna let my baby daughter run off with a piece of new money white
trash, you got another think coming…”
The bloviating went on, but it was time to go. Ash had done his worst. He leaned over and kissed his baby girl on the lips. It was not a chaste kiss, but it was just the icing on the cake he felt this moment needed. Then he whispered in her ear, “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’ll explain later, but I gotta go. Don’t you worry, everything’s gonna be fine.”
He was out the door before Lionel had finished his list of similes to the word “trash” as it related to the Boudreauxs.
He was still thundering on about new money when Ash started to shift. He was barely halfway out of the back garden. Now feeling his super-human strength, he hopped the 12-foot stone wall that separated the DuChamps estate from the unwashed masses. Once over the wall, he was on all fours and in his full power. He bounded through the trees and headed for the boonies, where perhaps he might rustle up some actual live lamb shanks for dinner.
Rosemary
Lionel wasn’t going to let anyone eat tonight. He was going to go on and on for half a century if that was what it would take to convince Rosemary that she was forbidden from marrying Ash. Fat lot of good that would do, talking himself until he was hoarse.
It was too bad. She was starving and that lamb roast smelled absolutely ridiculous.
So then she did something unprecedented. She stood up.
“Daddy, you were rude to my fiancé, and I am fucking starving. Come on, Lety, I’m going to the kitchen to eat. Mama, feel free to join me.”
Later, in the kitchen, Rosemary was eating over the sink.
“Mama, let’s cut to the chase,” Rosemary said with a mouth full of lamb. She had mint jelly all over her gel manicure, but she did not care. “Will you and Daddy please come to the wedding?”
Betsy shook her head and said, “He’s not like us, dear. He is not going to accept us once he finds out who we really are.”
“But you accepted Daddy and you’re not a shifter!”
“Rosemary, dear, my circumstances were different. I came from nothing and your father was a way out. Ashton has his own money and, no doubt, a line of 100 percent human girls around the block just waiting to catch his eye.”
This made Rosemary give a low, territorial growl as she chewed the last of the meat from the bone and shot her mother a side-eye.
“Don’t start one of your little hissy fits, Rosemary. You’re practically still a kitten. You know very little about life. Be careful where you set your sights. Not all panthers are meant to mate for life. Do you really want to mesh this family irreversibly with our most hated business rival?”
“Mama, I do not care about any of that.”
“Well, maybe you should. You have a roof over your head and an insurance policy on that shoe collection of yours that says perhaps you should care.”
Rosemary rolled her eyes. “Holding that over my head again, I see. You do know that Ashton and I are grownups and we’re going to get married whether you approve or not. We’re not children who need your blessing. We desire your blessing, but if we do not have it, it’s not going to stop us. All you have to do is come to the wedding.”
Her mother laughed out loud. “Next I suppose you’re going to tell me that you don’t need your daddy’s money to plan this thing.”
“If you won’t give us a blessing and accept Ash, then no, I don’t need your money. We can do it on our own,” Rosemary said.
“And why in the ever-loving world would I go to my daughter’s wedding where not only do I not approve of the groom?” asked Betsy. “And just where do you think you’re gonna have this wedding? The VFW Post?”
Rosemary had finished cleaning off her face and hands in the sink and wiped her face off on a towel. She turned to her mother and said, “Because of me. You’ll come because you love me. And that’s the only reason you need. Because you want to have a good relationship with your future son-in-law and if you want to see your future grandchildren, you’ll do it.”
Chapter 7
Rosemary
“If Ashton Lewis Boudreaux thinks he’s going to just waltz up here and beg my forgiveness for what he did last night, he’s got another think coming,” Rosemary said with a huff, watching Ash park his GTO on the curb outside her flat the next morning.
Penny was sipping a coffee and watching her friend at the window. “It’s true he acted like a fool last night, based on what you told me. But, honey, don’t take too long to forgive him. He might have had a very good reason.”
“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” she huffed.
“I didn’t say excuse. I said reason. Just hear him out,” Penny said.
Rosemary sighed. “Fine. But I’m going to take a shower. He can cool his heels.”
Ash
Ash was feeling pretty rough when he heard the window above him creak open. He looked up into the sun’s glare and saw Penny leaning out the window of Rosemary’s flat.
“Boudreaux,” Penny shouted down at him. “You better not be showing up here looking like you’ve been out clubbing all night. And you damn well better come up here showered, shaved and with some goddamn tulips in your hand. And I mean fresh tulips, not from the Publix, neither. Get your shit together, man. I can smell the squirrel blood on you from a mile away. Dummy. Go away and try again.”
Ash turned and did what he was told.
Rosemary
After Ash returned about 30 minutes later, Rosemary let him in, reluctantly.
“Penny, can you give us a moment?” Rosemary said.
“No, it’s OK. Penny knows what’s going on. I’d like her to be here for this.”
Rosemary looked at her new friend with fresh eyes. “Oh really? Keeping secrets from me?”
Penny looked sheepish. “I…didn’t feel like it was my place to tell you. Just hear him out.”
“Fine,” Rosemary said. “But hurry up, I’m hungry.”
“Baby girl, you’d better sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down.”
“At least stand near the couch,” Ash suggested.
“Ash, there’s nothing you can say that will give me the vapors. Do I look like I’m wearing a whalebone corset in 100-degree heat with no air conditioning?”
“OK,” he said, taking a seat. “Then I’ll sit down. See, there is something weird about me. And about Penny, too, actually. And Bobby. And Vann West, and also Gavin, who’s a little more of a recluse, but you’ll meet him at the wedding.”
Rosemary sighed. “Get on with it, man.”
“Ok. It’s really weird, but listen. Whenever there’s a full moon, I get certain…urges. I need to go into the woods and hunt. It’s just a thing I do. My daddy the chicken king does it, too. My whole family has done it for generations. I don’t know how far back it goes. But we actually…undergo changes. I’ve learned to control the change for a little while, but then when the moon gets to a certain point in the sky, I lose my shit. Penny and all of those people I just mentioned, we all have the same problem.”
That’s when Rosemary knew her suspicions had been borne out. This meant that her Ashton was different in the same way she was different.
“But it’s more than that. We are not just hunters who like to go out at night once a month. We are…well, there’s no other way to say it. We’re shapeshifters.”
Rosemary put up her hand to stop him right there. “Ash. I have to admit I have a thing, too. Let’s just both say it at the same time.”
She took a deep breath and so did Ash. She counted off, “One…two…three…I’m a panther.”
At the same time as she said “panther,” Ash said, “I’m a wolf.”
Penny looked from one to the other. “Whoa. Rosemary, you’re a panther? This is huge. I’ve heard about this, but I didn’t think it was real! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! And by the way, you do know you two are going to cause a major situation by mixing these two clans.”
Rosemary cocked her head at Penny. “Oh really, and who else in this room didn’t tell m
e what now?”
Penny cleared her throat and made her escape. “Clearly the two of you have some things to discuss. Peace out!”
After Penny left, Rosemary plopped down next to Ash on the sofa. “Well, this explains something.”
The two of them stared at the wall for a moment. “Sorry for scheduling a dinner on the full moon.”
“Oh, you had no way of knowing. It’s not your fault. I should have told you.”
“Yeah, but you had no way of knowing that I would also be a shifter. You were worried enough about being accepted by my family.”
“True,” he said. “And if I may say, this pretty much explains why you like biting and licking and cuddling more than penetration and kissing.”
“Yep,” she said, exhaling a long sigh like a leaky tire. “So.”
“So.”
She side-eyed him. “What do you want to do now?”
He side-eyed her. “I can think of a few things.”
She could detect a naughty little smirk in his voice. “So can I,” she said.
“So, you still want to marry me?”
She smiled and turned to him. “Of course I want to marry you! What about you? Are you sure you want to still marry me?”
He turned to her, his eyes already intense with desire. Doesn’t matter if I don’t. I’m doomed to follow you for the rest of my days. It’s the wolf code. We’ve bonded already.”
She nuzzled his neck with her tongue. He tasted so damn good. “And you’re still OK if we go slow? Wait to pop my cherry until the wedding night?”
“If that’s what it takes to marry you, I’ll wait.”
She smiled. “That doesn’t mean we can’t do other stuff, remember?”
And the things she did to him—and made him watch her to do herself—over the next half an hour would make a porn star blush.
