“I’m supposed to be, right?” He reached for another crawfish and cracked it in half. “That’s the party line, anyway.”
“Screw the party line, Andrew. Be you. I like you better than Alec.”
“Be me.” He shook his head. “That’s easier said than done, Mac. Who am I?”
A question she’d asked herself plenty of times as she’d learned how to be a woman and a shapeshifter. “You’re an architect. You’re a witty bastard. You’re a dork. You’re a badass. You lose some of the old stuff and pick up some new crap, but most of it’s all the same.”
He remained silent through three more crawfish, then grinned again. “You think I’m a witty bastard? Yeah, I guess I am.”
Mackenzie laughed loudly enough to draw the attention of several wolves on the opposite end of the folding table. Three empty chairs sat between them and her, as if they’d needed the buffer of space to avoid being too close to a cougar and a turned wolf. “Yeah, Andrew. You’re funny and you know it. Who cares what the rest of them think?”
“I don’t,” he said seriously. “Which probably makes me a poor choice for council member.”
“Or a perfect choice, especially if things need changing.”
Andrew took a long look around. “I’m not sure there’s anything we need more.”
No, there wasn’t. She couldn’t even see Alec and Carmen through the crowd, but they were probably still stuck at the front of the lawn, smiles fixed to their faces as wolves from all over the country paraded before them like supplicants in a medieval court. It was absurd. Outdated. Stifling.
It had to change. “You can do it, Andrew. And we’ll be here too. Me and Jackson and Zola and Walker and everyone else, we’ll help. It doesn’t have to be just wolves anymore.”
He tossed an empty shell on the table. “Yeah? Tell that to the rest of these guys.”
T-3 Days (11:00 PM)
Jackson ducked a flying g-string and snagged another beer from the huge tub on Dixie John’s bar. “This is a madhouse.”
Alec made a grumpy noise and glared until the psychic stripper who’d been headed in his direction veered away sharply. “At least Miguel’s going to singlehandedly put half of them through college. That’s something.”
“Too much money, not enough sense.”
“He’s young,” Alec allowed with another grumble. “Just hope Kat’s shoving twenties in some cowboy’s gun belt right now too. Fair’s fair.”
The groom was a little drunk, something Jackson had only seen a few times in all their years of acquaintance. “Twenties? You must trust Nicky to have hired better entertainment.”
Alec snorted. “She’s snobby about everything else. Plus, I’m gonna keep on thinking Kat doesn’t know stripper etiquette. I’ll sleep better at night.”
“Hey, so long as Carmen doesn’t know it, you’re set.”
His face screwed up in another scowl, one that brought Derek ambling over from the other side of the room. “What did you do to Alec to make his face look like that?”
“Nothing that should’ve worked.” Jackson slapped Derek on the back. “Remind the man how blissful married life is.”
“Like a dream, Alec.”
“I’m not worried about being married,” Alec snapped, reaching for another bottle of beer—his sixth. “I just want this fucking circus of a wedding over with.”
Was that what he was telling himself now? That the hoopla would end with their vows? “One thing I’ve learned over the last week or so is that I was wrong. Dead wrong. This is the pre-show, man. The real circus starts when you two move to New York.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Alec rubbed at his head and sighed. “Why is the woman still marrying me?”
“Because she adores you.” Julio leaned past Alec to retrieve another beer. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that you’re going to live happily ever after?”
“Maybe,” Alec muttered. Then he sighed. “This may only be the beginning, but it’s the last time I’m letting them shove me into a tuxedo in front of a few hundred people. And maybe the last time I’m letting my mother anywhere near me.”
“Kenzie could still punch her,” Jackson offered. “She dying to, you know.”
Derek laughed. “Nick could help. Let them at her, Alec. What’s the fun of having cranky alpha women around if you don’t let them start fistfights once in a while?”
Julio snorted. “That hit is Carmen’s to take, even if she won’t do it.”
“Too bad.” Alec drained his beer and raised both eyebrows. “What the hell are you all doing staring at me? Did you decide to leave all the strippers for Miguel?”
He wanted to be sitting there about as much as Carmen probably wanted to be staring at a buffed and waxed cowboy stripper. “Come on,” Jackson said, rising. “Let’s get you to Mahalia’s so you can rescue Carmen. I’ll drive, and you can sober up on the way.”
It was a sign of just how bad things were that Alec capitulated without so much as a murmur of protest.
T-2 Days (12:30 AM)
Mackenzie handed Carmen another martini and leaned against the table, trying to position herself to block the sight of Sera writing her phone number on the Tarzan-themed stripper’s arm in sparkly blue ink. “Drink that before I do.”
Carmen giggled and downed it in three gulps. “How long do I have to stay here?”
“Until Jackson gets here with Alec. They’re on their way.” Though Jackson’s text message had made it clear he’d be taking the long route—long enough to let Alec sober up, which was a good thing. Carmen was drunk enough for both of them. “I think Sera’s going home with one of your strippers. Should I be stopping that?”
“Nah.” She waved a hand. “It’s a free country, Mac, and love is a beautiful thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Mackenzie surveyed the room again. Aside from the outliers—Kat was reading a book on her phone and Sera had moved on to letting Tarzan write his number on the inside of her arm—everyone was enjoying the entertainment with a good-natured enthusiasm that, nonetheless, was a far cry from love. “I guess so.”
“It is. You know.” Carmen wiggled her fingers and laughed again. “You glow too, because Jackson makes everything okay.”
Mackenzie couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, he does. And we’re both glad you came along to make Alec smile, because he was an unhappy bastard for a long time.”
“Mmm, not anymore.” Carmen leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “When he forgets all these other things, the ones that don’t matter, everything inside him is still. Peaceful.”
Empaths. Thank God Kat was too busy reading about imaginary cowboys to get drunk and gawk at them. One inebriated empath was one too many. “That’s awful sweet, honey, but I bet Alec doesn’t want me knowing he’s peaceful. Ruins his brooding image.”
“Oh yes.” She opened her eyes and blinked. “He’s a very, very scary man with a very, very broody demeanor.”
The door pushed open behind her, and Mackenzie caught the familiar scent of Jackson’s aftershave. “Thank God,” she murmured. “Up we go, Carmen. We’re getting you home, okay? I think you’ve partied all you can for the night.”
“I can’t leave my own...” The words trailed off as a soft smile curved her lips. “All right. Maybe it’s time to go home.”
Jackson laid a hand on Mackenzie’s shoulder. “Is Carmen remotely sober?”
“Not even a little.” She leaned back against his chest and felt the heat of him, the solid warmth that
