Penny

Penny was nodding and smiling and politely laughing on the outside.

On the inside, she was absolutely trembling with lust.

Not for the guy in front of her. This blond haircut was clearly on the lookout for birthing hips and a submissive, passive female to take home to his rich daddy to get his parents off his ass about one poor life choice or another.

No, she was trembling with lust for Bobby.

She had thought tonight would be the night.

She had thought he would make his move; but so far, he hadn’t.

As she listened to the blond boy tell the thunderingly boring story about deciding whether to buy a sailboat or a speedboat—a sailboat has class and beauty, but a speedboat has a big advantage: “It’s right there in the name, hahaha!” he was saying—Penny could feel Bobby’s eyes on her bare back. She knew he was watching her, as sure as she had memorized how he looked: dashing in his morning suit, the sunshine lighting up his auburn mane of hair, his shirt was unbuttoned down to mid chest, his bow tie hanging loose. Her throat dried up at the thought of that chest.

Bobby was not what you would call slim. He had the chest of a lumberjack. He ate like a lumberjack, too, never could turn down a dinner at JB Chicken, probably never ate a salad in his life. He was broad and strong and physically imposing. He was the biggest of all the shapeshifting wolves in their little pack, and also the best-looking one, in Penny’s opinion.

Good-looking was an understatement. He was a god. He was big, hot and deeply burned into her soul. No, not burned. Welded.

These thoughts teased her lady bits to life as sailboat/speedboat guy droned on. “And then Dad took one look at my vessel and said, ‘Son, you’ll have to take sailing lessons.’ As if I’d be steering the boat myself! Isn’t that hilarious?”

Penny was laughing and nodding but ready to explode. She was of a mind to tell this spoiled brat in front of her to fuck off, but as she owned a small business that relied on rich clients—which was how she’d met Rosemary DuChamps—Penny had to live her life making nice with the upper class. She genuinely loved Rosemary, but most of the time, she wanted to dropkick these silly rich people.

One thing she never had to worry about was putting on a good face for the wolf pack. They had been friends since middle school, where she and Bobby had first bonded at a field trip to Ashton’s daddy’s flagship restaurant, JB Chicken. After the tour from Jimmy Boudreaux himself, the class was treated to a massive spread. She and Bobby had fought over the chicken neck, while most of the rest of the class had stared, aghast.

Turns out, that was one way the Boudreauxs determined which school children were wolves, ergo kids they could trust to be around their son, Ashton. That field trip was one of the happier memories.

After nearly 15 years of friendship, her stomach still did a little flip every time she caught him staring at her.

She knew the physical side of their relationship was like a ticking time bomb. After what they had been through together as children, there was just no way they could be together without all the painful memories resurfacing.

Penny could still see the scared, brooding look in his eye at parties when nobody else was paying attention. He put up a good front. He took care of everyone. Everyone but himself.

She suddenly felt silly in this dress. She felt awkward around all of her beautiful new feline shapeshifter friends—panthers, wildcats, and who knows what else—who had mated with her wolf pals.

She was the lone member of the wedding party who had not found someone to go into a closet with to make out tonight.

It was definitely not going to be sailboat guy.

Nothing and nobody could compare to Bobby. She turned and caught a glimpse in her peripheral vision. There he was, alone at the table on the deck of the boat, his chest and hair and oozing masculinity just out there for everyone to see.

He’s going home with somebody tonight, even if it’s not me. He could take his pick of any one of Rosemary’s hellcat cousins or nieces. Or aunts for that matter. They had all been staring at him all damn day.

She turned some more and sipped her Cosmo, and watched Bobby fingering the maraschino cherry in his low ball glass. He looked every bit as glowering and tempting as he could possibly look. Weirdly, Lionel DuChamps was walking away. She wondered what on earth those two had to say to each other. Guys with booze, they’ll always find something to talk about. She had a good mind to go over there, grab Bobby’s cherry stem, and do something dirty with it in her mouth. And follow it up with unspeakable things involving her mouth and Bobby’s other…stem.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Penny turned to blond sailboat guy and patted him on the shoulder. “It was lovely speaking to you. Good luck with the rape charges.”

He reared back, confused. “I don’t have any rape charges.”

As she walked away, she said over her shoulder, “You probably will before the night’s over.”