couldn’t be expected to be a small guy. His dark eyes peered out under floppy brown hair. Brandon was a popular wilderness guide, and come summer, their game night would shift because weekends saw Brandon deep in the forest interior with his well-paying clients.
“Mom knew it was poker night, so she sent me with a fresh-baked Texas sheet cake and said to tell you to leave me gas money this time.” Tyler Williams’s parents owned the Fox Lake Motel, a local institution on the far end of town. Ty was a bona fide Fox Hollow native, and when he wasn’t working at the hotel, he was a volunteer firefighter along with Russ, Brandon, and Justin.
“Don’t bet money you can’t afford to lose,” Drew said, smacking Ty on the shoulder. “You’re a big boy.” They were all within a few years of each other in age, falling into that two-year gap between the Lowe brothers, except for Ty, who was in his late twenties.
“I got carried away,” Ty replied with a grin. His tawny hair and light brown eyes were a clue to what he looked like when he was in his bobcat form, and Russ swore that’s where Ty’s impulsiveness came from.
Justin was the only non-shifter of the five. Anthony had proclaimed Justin to be an “honorary shifter,” since he had been outnumbered. Russ’s late husband had been an Apennine wolf, a variety native to Italy.
“Gimme your wallet,” Russ said, rolling his eyes. He counted Ty’s money, waggled the foil-wrapped condom he found for the amusement of the others, withdrew several bills, and handed them to Ty.
“There’s your fun money.” Russ put the wallet on top of the refrigerator. “If you try to get more out, I’ll text your mom the picture of you passed out on the couch from last month’s game.”
Ty’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
“He totally would,” Drew affirmed, “and you know it.”
“Fucker,” Ty muttered, but his grin took the heat out of his comment.
They scarfed down the pizza, sharing whatever local gossip they’d managed to overhear or witness during the day. Fox Hollow might be small, but even when tourists weren’t swelling the population, there were enough people for drama to ensue.
“…left him and took the dog, now that she found out he was getting some on the side,” Brandon commented about one of their hapless acquaintances.
“Serves him right,” Drew said, before he drank down the last swallow of his beer. “It’s not the first time he cheated on her—she deserves better. Hell, anyone deserves better.”
“Now that we’ve got someone new at the library, you think they’ll bring back the summer theater program?” Ty asked. “My sister had her heart set on trying out, but when Walter died, everything closed down.”
“Might be a good question to ask Liam,” Drew said off-handedly, reaching for another bottle of beer and ignoring the stink eye Russ sent his way.
“Who’s Liam?” Justin asked.
“The new librarian,” Drew replied. “Russ met him when Liam had car trouble on his way into town last night.”
Everyone turned to look at Russ, who managed to kick Drew none-too-gently in the shin under the table in retribution. “His car broke down. I towed him in. He said he’d just been hired. That’s all I know.”
“Holy shit,” Justin said. “Eric Roberts is going to be pissed as hell about that.”
Russ felt his wolf bristle protectively. “Why the fuck would Roberts care? He’s with the Fox Institute. He doesn’t have anything to do with the community—that’s Jeffries.”
The Fox Institute was both a part of the town life and separate from it. The Institute had courted the good graces of the town that provided them with sanctuary by participating in fundraisers for new fire trucks, recreation fields, and other needed improvements. They provided a community liaison to coordinate the programs and events at the Institute with the Fox Hollow plans for the summer arts festival and the Fall Fling, both of which brought in tourist money and garnered goodwill and good PR for both parties.
But the library belonged to the town, although Jeffries sat on the oversight committee, as the Institute’s representative. Chaired the committee this year, if Russ remembered correctly.
“Roberts had a nephew or some such that he wanted to see get the job,” Justin replied. “One of my seaplane taxi passengers was venting on a cell phone call, and I got to hear all the ugly details. Apparently, the nephew had no relevant education or experience, but Roberts made a crack about knowing his alphabet so he could