Dwayne's scream of pleasure made my stomach drop to my toes and Granny cackle with laughter. The girls were gonna crap.
"Um… Junior, not sure that's the best plan," I said as diplomatically as I could.
"Sure it is," Junior said with a satisfied smirk as he sat back and plopped his cowboy boot clad feet up on his messy desk. "Those bridal Weasels are trying to poison Sandy Moongie's mind against going out with me. Serves them right if Dwayne goes in and shakes it up a little."
Shaking it up was an understatement. Dwayne would have them hosting full on bridal drag shows if he had twenty-four hours. However, Junior's reasoning was interesting.
"Junior, I'm sure your man-whore reputation might be part of the issue," I said as I knocked his feet off of his desk.
"Those days are behind me," he explained.
"Since when?"
"Um… I'm guessin' it's been about a week, give or take a day," he said.
My eye roll was one of the largest I'd ever produced. I knew Junior had it bad for Sandy. The entire reason I had come back to Hung Island, Georgia was that I'd been sent down here undercover by the WTF to find out who was kidnapping Weres. It had turned out to be some egomaniacal Were Dragons who were trying to crossbreed species and take over the paranormal world. They were now dead thanks to a disastrous mind meld by Dwayne that killed two and my ripping off the head of the third.
Sandy had been one of the kidnapped Weres we had saved and she was far too smart to get involved with Junior…
"It's gonna take more than a week—give or take a few days, to get rid of your well-earned reputation," I told him.
"Two weeks?" he asked.
"Um… more like a year or so," Granny informed him.
"Dang it, I don't have a year," Junior grumbled as he stood up and accidently knocked everything off of his desk. He paced the office and we all backed up. Junior was huge and dangerously clumsy when he was agitated. "Some dumbass Were dude could snap her up in that time."
"Guess you should have thought about that when you were doing the horizontal hula with half of Georgia," Dwayne offered unhelpfully.
"Oh my hell," Junior said as he sat back down and dropped his head into his hands. "I'm gonna have to dedicate every waking minute I have to getting Sandy to believe I've finished my man hooker phase."
"He's really off the charts MENSA?" Dwayne whispered skeptically.
We all watched Junior scribble out a list of how he was going to get rid of his gigolo rep.
"Yep," I whispered back. "He's brilliant."
"Junior, you chatted with Hank yet?" Granny inquired as she sat down next to him and started her own list to help him out.
"Nope, you guys just got back two days ago. He told me we'd talk later today," Junior said as he peeked over at Granny's list and gasped. "Would I have to go to church and confess my sins? Sandy's dad is the preacher. I just feel that that might a little awkward and potentially deadly after we mate and all."
"Hell's bells, you're right, Junior. Preacher Moongie would skin you alive," she agreed as she crossed that one off the list. "You might not know how to keep your possum in your pants, but you're a nice boy. You don't deserve to die because you can't keep your flesh sword in your grundies."
"Thank you," he said.
"Welcome."
"Is it time for me to do my community service at the shop?" Dwayne asked as he bounced up and down like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Don't you want to know if Junior can hack?" I reminded him.
"Oh dear god, yes," Dwayne said as he slipped his heels back on. "Junior, I have a little bitty problem on my hands."
"Potentially a cluster womper of epic proportions," Granny added.
"Yes," Dwayne admitted. "It seems like I might have posed as a priest a couple hundred years ago and might have accidentally performed an illegal wedding. It was an oversight on my part. I was so excited to get to wear something that resembled a dress without getting my ass kicked that I possibly got carried away."
"You lost me," Junior said.
"I performed an unlicensed and illegal wedding between two… umm…" Dwayne was at a loss.
"Two what?" Junior asked.
"Cows," Dwayne choked out.
"So what?" Junior said with a laugh and a shrug. "Two cows can't get married in Georgia. That would be a gay marriage. And let me go on record and say I'm all for gay marriage. However, for it to be legal it would have to be a cow and a bull, and as far as I know most people don't hold weddings for their farm animals. Bulls are bigger man whores than me. Old Farmer McDonald only has one bull and about thirty cows. That son of a bovine gets around."
"He's really MENSA?" Dwayne asked again.
"Yep," Junior said sadly. "But don't spread it around. It hurts my rep with the ladies."
"Oh my god," I huffed as I sat down, knowing this was going to take a while. "I thought you were giving up the ladies for Sandy."
"Sweet Jesus, you're right." Junior slapped his head and scribbled a few more to do's on his list. "I'm gonna take out an ad in the paper about my brains."
"That's an alarmingly fantastic idea," Dwayne said kindly. "But I'm not talking about farm animals. I unlawfully wedded two Were Cows."