Candice glanced up at where the vet obscured her view of the sleeping, spread-eagled Justin.
As the vet picked up an evil-looking scalpel, Candice closed her notebook.
“Doc?”
The vet paused, blade hovering above the spread-eagled “dog,” and glanced over his shoulder at her.
“I’m sorry. I know this is going to seem odd, but I’ve changed my mind.”
He frowned at her.
She gave a purposefully silly, girly-girl laugh. “Oopsie, sorry. I guess I just can’t go through with it, no matter how . . . uh, naughty he’s been. I’ll still pay you for the neutering, though. Don’t worry.” She fished her checkbook out of her purse and hastily wrote the vet a check. Then she nodded at the sleeping Justin. “How long will he be out?”
“A couple hours.”
“Perfect. Can you help me lift him into my car?”
Nine
Justin woke up in the ditch not far from the clearing where the party was still in full swing, as evidenced by the randy growls and breathless giggles that drifted on the night air. At first he was totally disoriented. His mouth felt like a bird had shit in it and he had a killer headache. What the hell? He’d gone to the party as a farewell to his old life, and then...
With a terrified yelp, his memory rushed back. Commanding his human form to come to him, he sat up, gasping and reaching between his legs. All there! He was all there.
What had happened? Why had Candice freaked out?
But even before Justin found the neatly folded note she’d left staked to the ground beside him with . . . he shuddered . . . something that looked disturbingly like a scalpel, he knew what had happened. Someone had told her about him. He was fully aware of his bad reputation. He’d never really given a shit. Until now. He opened the piece of notebook paper. The full moon had brightened the sky enough for him to easily read her bold writing.
Girls might think it’s cute or exciting to be with a man who collects lovers like a dog collects fleas. Well, that’s just one of the many differences between girls and women. Gigolo men piss grown women off. I’m a grown woman. The game you played with me pisses me off. I suggest you stick to girls. Next time you may lose more than a few orgy hours. Keep in mind, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” Ah, to hell with that poetic crap. Basically, I wanted to say, GO FUCK YOURSELF, JUSTIN!
When he returned to wolf form he didn’t notice the sensual stir of his morphing flesh, and he didn’t rush back to the clearing to pair up with an eager young wolf to reassure himself that everything was still in working order. Instead he padded slowly home—the garage apartment his parents pretended to rent to him as part of his salary and benefits at the restaurant, which felt as empty and meaningless as his life had become.
“You should be almost done with that awful poetry class, right?” Godiva asked her friend.
Candice was sitting on her balcony, arm resting against her little table, pad and pencil beside her. She stared out at the forest while she propped the phone against her shoulder and kept doodling on her notebook paper. “Yep. Almost.”
“And that means the whole MFA is almost done, right?”
“Yep. Almost.”
“And snow is almost done falling out of that giant flying rabbit’s ass, right?”
“Yep. Al—” Candice frowned, realizing what Godiva had really said. “Don’t be such a smart-ass.”
“You know, I hear he’s back in town.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“So don’t talk—just listen. He’s back in town, but werewolf gossip has it that he’s only here temporarily. Seems he’s just come to collect some of his stuff to take back to his new apartment in Denver.”
“And why should I care?”
Godiva kept talking as if Candice hadn’t spoken. “Word also has it that he’s still not slutting around. No parties. No orgies. No cheerleaders. Not even the slightest hint of a girlfriend, wolf or not.”
“Godiva! I do not give a shit. I haven’t talked to him in weeks.”
“Well, maybe you should!”
“I cannot believe you’re saying that. You’re the one who told me what a slut he was. And I saw it with my own eyes. He lied to me and was fucking every bitch in sight that night.”
“Girlfriend, I told you what Romeo told me—that several werewolves told him that Justin wasn’t doing anyone that night. And, as far as my excellent gossip network—which includes forest fairies, and you know those little shits live for gossip and red meat—can tell, Justin Woods has not been with anyone since the three dates he had with you.”
“Two dates. And one of them wasn’t even official.”
“Whatever. I think you should call him.”
“What! I am
“Oh, give it up. You know very well he’s no boy.”
“Again I say whatever. And he knows my phone number. If he wanted to talk to me, he’d call me.”
“Candice Cox, may I please remind you that the last time you interacted with him you almost had his balls
