Kitty Rocks the House - By Carrie Vaughn Page 0,86

over, even. Cheryl’s kids could play in the backyard.

After everyone left, Ben and I sat on the patio in the quiet backyard, regarding our view of the sunset over the mountains. Clouds streaked orange and pink against a fading blue sky. Scrub oak marked the boundaries of the property, and wild grasses replaced the lawn. The yard needed a little work after a winter of neglect. I looked forward to it. This was ours.

“We did it,” I said, sounding more than a little startled. “I can’t believe we did it. Look at us, house in the suburbs.”

“Well, we still have to clean and rent out the old place, get the mail transferred, do something about this yard, finish the basement—”

“Details,” I said. “It’s all details.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek, and he smiled.

My senses stretched out. I smelled deer, rabbits, coyotes, fox, and a dozen other creatures on the wind. A feast, right on our doorstep. In my gut, Wolf stretched. She wanted out, to run through this space and mark it as her own.

Not now, I told her. Time enough for that later. Now, we were human beings with a house and a bed and all was well.

Ben’s hand closed around mine. “You’re feeling it, too?”

Our Wolves spoke to each other, smelling the need on each other’s bodies, feeling the tension in the other’s muscles.

“Next full moon,” I said. “It’ll come soon enough.”

* * *

I WAS as nervous as I had been meeting my own in-laws. Well, in-law. Ben’s mother was sweet and welcoming, if a bit sad. Ben’s father was still in prison on a decade-old weapons conviction. Not only was I not sure I wanted to meet him, I wasn’t sure Ben wanted me to meet him. They’d had a falling out, when Ben refused to represent him in court. He hardly ever talked about him.

Family was such a fraught thing. However tangled and difficult it was, pack was family. Trey was bringing his fiancée, Sam, to New Moon to meet us.

“This is weird,” I muttered at Ben. “They’re not looking for some kind of approval, are they? Because that shouldn’t matter, if they love each other that’s it, right?”

He was smiling at me, amused by my discomfort as he often was. Like I was this social science experiment playing out in front of him. Thank goodness one of us was laid back. More likely, I had a feeling he just hid his nerves better than I did. I had to talk about everything.

“It’s a version of that thing that happens when two different groups of friends collide,” he said. “You just want everyone to get along. Imagine how nervous Trey probably is right now.”

Yeah, no doubt. Bringing the love of your life to meet the parents, or wolf parents, or whatever.

The front door opened, and I stood. There he was, and I swore I saw his tail wagging. He held the door and guided her in, fussing, hovering near her shoulder, almost trembling with enthusiasm as he gazed longingly at her. I wondered if she recognized the body language and understood how much devotion he was showing her.

She was cute, with short, dark hair, and a round face. Dressed for business in a skirt and blouse, pumps with low heels. No jewelry or makeup, just her own beaming smile. Sensible, friendly. She clasped his hand as Trey led her across the dining room. I decided I liked her.

They reached our table, Trey made introductions, and there was an awkward shuffle while everyone sat. We ordered drinks, and finally we had to get past the small talk to the issue at hand.

“It’s really good meeting you, Sam. Trey hasn’t talked about anything but you for a month.”

Blushing, she smiled at him. Yeah, I liked her.

She pulled a familiar-looking book from her purse. “I’m almost embarrassed to ask, I’m sure you get this all the time—would you sign this for me?”

I did, happy to. “Trey said it answered some of your questions?”

“I don’t know if it answered them … but it did make me feel better. Like maybe this isn’t so weird after all. I have to be honest, I’m not sure what I should think about you all. This pack thing,” Sam said, wincing. “Trey tried to explain it, that you were sort of like family, but not really, or maybe a little like AA, but not really—I’m a little confused.”

Werewolf pack as group therapy? There’s a thought. I considered for a moment and said,