How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf

by Молли Харпер

  From this feminine haven, we were thrust into the gray, industrial reality of Bulk Wonderland. I helped Evie load boxes of paper napkins, paper towels, aluminum foil, and plastic wrap into the cart. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from buying the ridiculously oversized bottle of shampoo and the huge box of tampons. I also purchased a one-hundred-count box of condoms, which I tried and failed to hide from Evie.

  “Alan’s asked me to dinner again this week,” I told her. “You never know what could happen.”

  Evie had stopped in her tracks but recovered enough to say, “Oh, you know that we’re going to spend a lot of time talking about that, maybe even the entire drive home.”

  As we wandered among the shelves of Bulk Wonderland, I went into hoarding mode. In truth, I was getting more worried about the approaching winter. I found myself constantly checking my cabinets. I worried about keeping enough personal groceries on hand, about keeping the baking supplies I needed for the saloon. Did I have enough eggs, cereal, toilet paper? Should I buy more in case there was some drastic change in the weather? I started throwing weird items into my cart—a three-pound jar of peanut butter, a 120-count box of Sno Balls, enough chocolate chips to sink a battleship. When Evie caught me buying a six-pound block of cheddar cheese, she went into what she called a “first-winter intervention.”

  “Sweetheart, it’s important to keep emergency supplies on hand, but you’re venturing into crazy survivalist territory,” she said, prying the cheese out of my hand. “Most people keep enough in their homes so they won’t have to go out in the really nasty weather, but it’s never gotten so bad that your truck couldn’t get to Hannigan’s or that someone couldn’t get to you. It’s not like you’re going to be reenacting scenes from the Donner party.”

  “I know, I know,” I grumbled. “It’s just, it’s getting colder, and I know the first big freeze of the winter is coming up. I’m a little nervous.”

  “Don’t be. You’re going to be fine. Besides, the first freeze is big fun in Grundy. We have a big party at the saloon, lots of food and dancing,” she said, grinning as she tossed more sensible supplies into my cart—batteries, a case of bottled water, powdered milk, cans of Sterno. “It’s a great time.”

  “Why would you celebrate the first freeze of the year?”

  Evie shrugged. “For a lot of people, it’s their last chance to socialize. Afterward, most people don’t make it into town to visit.”

  I cried, “I thought you said it didn’t get that bad!”

  “I said that people don’t make it into town, not that they can’t. If you had to decide between staying at home, where it’s cozy, or trudging through two feet of snow just to run into town for toilet paper, what would you do? The Big Freeze is a tradition passed down generation to generation,” Evie said solemnly. In a hokey “resonant Indian folktale” voice, she added, “For many moons, it has provided a way for unattached men and women of Grundy to find the person they plan on shacking up with for the season.”

  At the look on my face, she burst out laughing, with just enough malice that I wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not.

  “There’s not a lot to do here during the winter.” She shrugged. “It’s either sex or curling.”

  I shuddered in horror at the thought of any sport that involved ice, heavy stones, and brooms. “I’ll take the sex.”

  Evie winked. “That’s my girl.”

  “But not with Cooper.”

  “Well, now you’re just being obstinate,” she huffed.

  For most of the ride home, Evie and I argued over whether (a) I would attend the Big Freeze party as a guest or hide out in the kitchen where it was safe and (b) what I would be wearing. I insisted that I would enjoy myself much more if I was out of Leonard Tremblay’s range of fire. Evie insisted that I suck it up and dance like a big girl, preferably in the low-cut red party dress she’d seen hanging in my closet.

  “No way!” I cried as we parked in the alley of the saloon. “I don’t even know why I brought it up here.”

  “Because you look hot in it,” she said, climbing out of the SUV. “You know that, which is why you hauled it across a dozen state lines. Admit it, that’s your ‘going to get some’ dress.”

  “I don’t have a ‘going to get some’ dress,” I insisted, cringing when she dragged my bulk box of condoms out with a flourish.

  “Exhibit A,” she said, looking down her nose at me.

  “Fine, it’s my ‘going to get some’ dress.”

  Note to self: Find Evie a hobby that doesn’t involve getting me laid.

  CHAPTER 11

  Red Light, Green Light

  BUZZ’S HAND HEALED, but he hadn’t mentioned coming back into the kitchen. He was devoting his attention to inventing new ways to use Jägermeister. Please, Lord, let me never hear the words “Jäger ’n’ eggs” again. Breakfast should not burn on the way down.

  In other medical news, Susie Q had been released from the hospital. Since she lived alone and would need pretty steady care for the next few months, her doctor told her to move down to West Texas to live with her daughter for a while. Susie’s grandkids were supposedly allergic to dogs, so I would be playing hostess to Oscar for a little while longer—most likely, permanently, but no one had the heart to tell Susie.

  Grundy was already a little less fun without Susie’s big hair and sassy Western wear. It seemed bizarre to plan a menu and pick out party decorations when one of our own was leaving town on a gurney. But Evie and Gertie said the Big Freeze was one of the highlights of Susie’s year, and she would have wanted us to go on with the dance. We planned to put her picture on the bar, with a little candle and her favorite beer.

  Such was life in any small town. Tragedies knocked the population on its collective butt and were chewed over for weeks, and then adjustments were made. We knew we couldn’t do more for Susie Q, so we tried to go back to normal. The lunch crowds found something else to talk about. Gertie took over the postmaster position, which meant I was actually getting mail delivered to my house, a new and unexpected luxury. And Gertie seemed to enjoy being a “working gal” for the first time in her life.

  Alan spent weeks tracking “Susie Q’s wolf” through the area. He found tracks circling through town, but nothing else. No animal remains, scat, tracks, nothing. He never even saw an actual wolf. What astounded him most was the number of times he was led past my house while tracking wolf signs.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it, Mo,” Alan told me one afternoon over a cheeseburger platter. “It’s like you’re living on some sort of wolfy scenic route. I can’t believe you haven’t seen anything.”

  I giggled, the hysterical edge giving my laughter an authentic ring. I tried my hardest not to sneak a glance out the window, where I saw Cooper parking his truck near the curb.

  “Nah, the only thing I’ve seen out my way was a bear a little while back.”

  Alan’s eyes widened in alarm, and his hand reached out reflexively for mine. Oh, crap. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Sure, it was better than blurting out, “Oh, well, I have a werewolf who drops by every once in a while.” But now I had to give Alan a heavily edited version of the bear incident and find a way to tip off Cooper so he wouldn’t slip up.

  I gave Alan a quick and dirty explanation, cautiously omitting exactly how close I’d gotten to Yogi’s bastard cousin and how involved Cooper had been in chasing him off. I tried to ignore the way Alan’s jaw tightened when he heard that Cooper was at my house. That didn’t bode well.

  “I’m going to put some more traps out by your place. I’ll give you a map and mark them with orange hunter’s tape, but be careful of where you and Oscar walk,” Alan said. I nodded and turned to pour more coffee for Walt. Alan put his hand on mine again and stopped me.

  “I’ll be careful, Alan. I promise.” I smiled at him and patted his hand. Alan caught it in his fingers and squeezed.

  I looked up and saw Cooper coming through the door. I caught his eye dipping toward ou
r joined hands, and he scowled. I moved my hand behind my back. Cooper sat at the far end of the counter and called out to Evie. When I smiled in greeting, he gave me a single curt nod and trained his eyes on his coffee cup.

  Apparently, we were back to not being civil. Great.

  “Good morning, Cooper,” I said in a deliberately cheerful tone.

  “Morning,” he mumbled. He looked tired again and sort of pouty, which was a strange expression on him.

  “I was just telling Alan here about the bear we saw out near my place,” I told him, sending a significant look toward Alan. “It’s a good thing you got me and Oscar into the house before it got too close.”

  “Why’d you tell him about that?” Cooper grunted.

  “He was just telling me how many wolf tracks he’d seen near my house, and I told him that was nothing, he should have seen the bear.”

  Cooper’s eyes locked with mine, sweeping my face in search of . . . what? Suspicion? Anger? Alan started asking Cooper questions I wasn’t prepared to answer about the bear. I’d been too terrified to notice how tall the bear was, any significant markings, whether the bear was tagged. Cooper’s face tensed as he rattled off plausible details, but he kept his eyes trained on mine.

  “What exactly were you doing out at Mo’s place?” Alan asked.

  Cooper’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling back ever so slightly, showing his even, white teeth. “Just being neighborly.”

  Great, that was just vague enough to let Alan assume that we were having torrid monkey sex on my front porch when we were rudely interrupted by the bear.

  Alan’s own teeth showed. “Well, it’s nice to hear that people are keeping a close eye on Mo for me.” He slid his hand across the counter and laced his fingers through mine.

  I was not an expert in animal behavior, but even I recognized when territory was being marked. Alan might as well have been peeing a circle around my feet. He grinned up at me. Cooper scowled. I arched my eyebrows and pried my fingers gently out of Alan’s.

  “I am choking on all the testosterone, so I’ll back away into the kitchen,” I muttered.

  When I was at a safe distance, the tension seemed to ebb out of Alan’s face, while Cooper seemed to grow more agitated. He slid off his stool and slapped his baseball cap back onto his head.

  “I’ve got to go,” he grumbled.

  “What about your order?” Evie called as the front door jangled closed.

  “Feed it to Alan,” he huffed.

  “What was that about?” Evie asked me, putting aside the list of supplies we would need for our party menu of crab cakes, fancy ham biscuits, and “cheese pies.” (We couldn’t call them mini-quiches, or the male guests wouldn’t eat them.)

  “I don’t pretend to understand the male mind, Evie, that one in particular.”

  Evie shook her head. “The Amazons had the right idea. Keep men around for procreation only.”

  I nodded. “And don’t let them speak.”

  IN THE END, I wore the red dress to the Big Freeze party, just to get Evie off my back. And because I’d decided that I wanted to take Alan home with me that night. If anything would get that message across, it was the red dress.

  Alan was the right choice, I told my reflection as I painted my mouth a bold poppy color. He was the only choice that made sense. And he couldn’t have communicated his interest any more clearly if he’d used a billboard. Why am I nervous? I wondered, smoothing my hair one last time before I slipped into my parka. Alan was a slow mover, but he was clearly interested. I wasn’t going to be rejected. I’d never been nervous about first-time sexual encounters. I didn’t get nervous about sex, period. I tried to shake off the weird aura of apprehension on the drive over, concentrating on the fun of the party, of flirting, of ending a particularly long sexual dry spell.

  When I walked into the Glacier, I was apprehensive for a whole new reason. I felt both over- and underdressed. The men were in ties (with jeans) and the ladies in dresses that had probably been mail-ordered from the JCPenney Sunday Best collection. And then there was Abner, who was wearing an old suit made entirely of forest-green corduroy.

  I shrugged out of my coat at the door of the saloon, and people stopped talking.

  Awkward.

  I gave a nervous little smile and ducked into the kitchen, where I found Evie warming the batches of appetizers I’d made that afternoon.

  “I’m going to kill you,” I told her, pulling the little flared hem over my now-conspicuous knees.

  “Why, because I insisted that you be pretty?” She smirked, handing me a tray of crab wontons. “You look gorgeous, and you know it. Pretending to be nervous about it is just annoying.”

  “I’m the only one showing this much skin!” I hissed. My needle-thin heels clicked impatiently behind her as we put the food on a table set far away from the bustling dance floor that had been set up near an improvised stage.

  “Well, I don’t think anybody minds.” She cast a deliberate glance out to the bar, where Cooper had walked in and was talking with Buzz.

  Cooper was wearing a light blue button-up shirt that looked as if he threw it in the dryer for a few minutes rather than iron it. His shaggy hair was slicked back. He was staring intently at his beer and trying to ignore Lynette, who seemed to be pulling on his arm and asking him to dance. Buzz looked up at Evie and elbowed Cooper. Cooper looked at me and nearly lost his grip on his bottle.

  That was the kind of reaction a girl is looking for when she straps herself into support garments. It was too bad it came from Cooper.

  “Well, I see someone doesn’t mind that you dressed up,” Evie said.

  “I’m putting my coat back on,” I told her.

  “Now, that would be a shame.”

  I turned to find Alan standing in front of me. He was wearing a black suit jacket over a pristine white Oxford shirt and jeans. Given the way he swaggered up to me, I think he might have had a couple of beers in him. I smiled, giving him the slightest of eyelash flutters as he held out his hand and pulled me to the dance floor.

  Buzz had hired a band from Burnee to come in and play a mix of country-western and classic rock. The current selection, a gruffer version of “Brown Eyed Girl,” had Alan spinning me fast toward the center of the crowd.

  “Have I mentioned that you’re the prettiest girl in the room?” he asked over the peppy guitar riff.

  I blushed. I couldn’t help it. I was all girled up in my little red dress, and he complimented me. A blushing response was practically coded in my feminine chromosomes. “No.”

  “Well, I will.”

  I laughed, dipping my head and bumping it against Alan’s shoulder. He chuckled and ran a hand along the bare skin of my arms. I pursed my lips, waiting for a reaction, a shiver, a quiver. Hell, I would have settled for a twitch. But Alan’s touch didn’t give me any response besides a warm rush of affection. My brows creased. I deliberately splayed my fingers across the back of Alan’s neck, stroking the smooth skin there. Alan’s eyes warmed, and his head tipped toward mine. I felt nothing beyond that vague impression of approaching disaster. I gritted my teeth. Why weren’t my stupid hormones working right?

  Over Alan’s shoulder, I saw Cooper scowl. Now, that I had a reaction to—a white-hot spear of awareness, of annoyance, that shot right through to my toes. I narrowed my eyes at him, ready to snarl. Fortunately, Alan spun us so that my back was turned to Cooper.

  Alan was a good dancer, an excellent lead. He made it easy to fight off my sour mood, although I couldn’t seem to manufacture the lustful feelings I wanted for him. We coasted around the dance floor as he grinned and joked with the other couples, including Nate and Gertie. The Gogans moved smoothly in a box step with the ease of two people who’d learned to dance together. Nate was clearly thrilled with my choice of partner. I could see him drawing up the purchase contract for my house in his head.

  I formally met a lot of my neighbors who didn’t bother coming into town unless it was a special occasion. Ther
e was the expected reticence on the part of a few, but the fact that I was dancing with Alan seemed to smooth it over. It was as if he was vouching for me somehow. I felt grateful for it.

  “So how do you like the local night life?” he asked, the tip of his nose grazing my cheek.

  I peered around the room, watching my boisterous friends trying to squeeze every last drop of fun from the evening before they faced long months of winter seclusion. I tilted my face at an inviting angle, then immediately straightened so that my mouth wasn’t quite so close to his. “It’s lively.”

  If Alan was aware of my conflict, he certainly didn’t seem fazed by it. He pressed me closer, his mouth almost brushing my ear as he said, “You know, there are still a few days before the cold really sets in. Last chance to get out and see some of the backcountry. I know some really good trails, places nobody else around here could take you. And the weather is supposed to be stable this weekend.”

  “Wouldn’t it be kind of dangerous? What with the attacks and all . . .”

  “I’ll protect you. I can be your own personal wilderness bodyguard.”

  I chuckled. He slipped his hand ever so subtly down the small of my back to curve around my left butt cheek. I stiffened, inadvertently pressing my breasts against his chest. He took this as a green light and clutched me even tighter against his waist. The rational part of my brain screamed at me to relax and see where this might go, that Alan was an attractive, uncomplicated specimen and possibly my only chance this winter at halfway decent sex that didn’t involve batteries. The more primal part of my brain had me arching back from him, wriggling my hips away from where he had me pinned against his body.