"Boy, she really hit a large cross-section of deities," Dwayne observed.
"Can you pry me out of her knockers?" I begged, still unable to see anything except the cavern between her bosoms.
"I'll give it a shot," he said. "Mrs. Wilson, you truly have the gams to pull off some gauchos," Dwayne gushed.
"Oh, do you think so?" she asked, flattered as she dropped me to the ground and moved in to examine Dwayne's fashion disaster that covered his lower half.
As I sat sprawled on the grass I tried to regulate my breathing. My future mother-in-law had one hell of a deadly hug. It reminded me yet again to stay on her good side. I'd hate to get introduced to her left hook.
"Are you okay?" Sandy Moongie asked quietly as she squatted down next to me and gently lifted my chin.
Sandy and I had gone to high school together and I adored her. Heavy and shy in her teen years, she had slimmed down and looked like a damned super model now—wild blonde curls framed her heart-shaped face and her cornflower blue eyes were huge. She had been one of the gals I'd saved from the Dragons and we were bonded for life.
"Will be in about thirty seconds," I replied with a weak grin. "She's a scary mother humper."
"You got that right. So… I'm not sure whether to say thank you or to tackle your ass for telling Hank and his brother that I'm a computer whiz."
My grin was now large. I luuurved that she wouldn't call Junior by name. I was certain she had it as bad as he did.
"What?" she asked as her eyes narrowed.
"Nothing," I said. I put my hands out to Sandy for some help up. My ribs were still burning from the loving I'd just received from Mrs. Wilson.
"Will you ever call her mom?" Sandy asked as she pulled me to my feet.
That gave me pause and indigestion. "Oh my hell, do you think I'll have to?"
"Don't know." She shrugged and laughed. "Knowing her, she'll make you call her Mrs. Wilson the rest of her unnaturally long life."
"I'd bet my life her dress is butthole fugly," I muttered as I checked my midsection for blood or a protruding rib.
Sandy bit at her full lips and stared at the ground.
"Tell me," I hissed as I yanked her away from the Pack so we wouldn't be heard.
"She wore one similar to what my mother wore," she said slowly while trying not to laugh.
"And?" I demanded.
"It's freakin awful—huge, with sleeves bigger than my head and acres of material… and a rhinestone tiara veil," she gasped out, barely containing herself.
"Is it white?"
"Of course it's white," she said, confused.
"Son of a bitch, Dwayne is dead," I muttered as I spun around and started to march back into the fray to behead my BFF.
"Oh shit," she muttered. "Come back here."
"Look, I have to maim Dwayne for getting me into this or at least spill something on his gauchos that will permanently stain them," I explained impatiently as I walked back to her. "Can this wait?"
"No, it can't," she said as she twisted her hands. "I know Junior will brief you guys on this, but it looks like one of his geeky friends accidently put Dwayne's name into the search engine with the Were Cows." Sandy paled considerably and her eyes were wide.
"What does that mean?" I asked, fairly sure I knew.
"It means the Cows could know Dwayne is alive and well," she said.
"That is sucktastic," I yelled catching the attention of the group admiring Dwayne's heinous ensemble. From the looks of it, he and Mrs. Wilson were now besties. I smiled and waved as I dragged Sandy farther into the woods.
"What else do you know?"
"That's really about it. Junior let the geek guy have it so bad I was hurtin' when he was done," she said with a shudder.
"Did you think it was hot?" I asked.
"What the hell kind of question is that?" she asked as heat crept up her cheeks.
"A legit one," I said. "Answer it."
Sandy rolled her eyes and I giggled.
"Fine," she huffed. "It was hot, but Junior is such a knob I'm not going there."
"You do realize you just called your Alpha a knob," I informed her.
"Shit," she mumbled. She walked farther into the woods, leaned on a tree and resumed chewing on her lips.
"Look, if it helps, he's given up his man-whore ways," I told her.
Her eyebrows shot up and she snorted with disgust. "When? Last week?"
"Well, um… yeah."
"Priceless," Sandy said with another eye roll. "Come on, we need to get back. The knob is going to be inducted soon."
She started back to the clearing and I gently took her arm.
"Sandy, he's really not a knob," I told her.
She blew out a long sigh and her shoulders slumped forward.
"Essie, he really is."
"Well, okay—he is, but he's trying very hard not to be," I said, working to plead his case. I knew I should be freaking about the Were Cows, but I could only handle one thing at a time. Helping Junior out was the easiest of the jobs I had at the moment… maybe.
"Essie, it will take a miracle or a castration for that boy to keep his pecker in his pants," Sandy stated in a resigned voice. "Do I think he's hot? Yes. Brilliant? Absolutely. Would I like to ride him till he's blind? You bet. The Werewolf for me? Not in a million years. So while I appreciate you trying to de-knob Junior, your case is falling on deaf ears."