Zach looked crushed. “Is that the only reason?”
Misconstruing Zach’s expression could end in massive public humiliation—specifically mine. Crossing my fingers and tucking my hands into the pockets of my dress, I nodded and lied. “Zorro is the only reason I’m staying for a week.”
“Guurrlfriend!” Zorro squealed with joy as he came barreling down the stairs with the pine-scented cats on his heels. My beautiful BFF was in one solid piece and as handsome as ever. His vertical pupils set in bright blue eyes could be off-putting, but I found them exotic and cool—he was a fainting goat Shifter after all. Zorro’s sandy blond hair fell over one eye, styled expertly. He grabbed me and swung me around like a doll. “You’re alive! Best day ever.”
Holding tightly to my best friend, I was torn between laughter and tears. Zorro had missed the showdown between Zach and Fabio. Maybe that was a good thing. He and Zach were also very tight.
“Best day ever,” I whispered as he stopped spinning me and hugged me close.
It was and it wasn’t. But Zorro was alive. Zach was alive. And I was alive. It was good enough for now.
“Will you come to my rehearsal?” Zorro asked.
I glanced over at Zach who stared right back at me. I was tempted to yank him up by his boxer briefs and tell him he was being an idiot about his family. Instead, I turned back to Zorro.
“I’d love to go to rehearsal with you.” I winced at his pink leather assless chaps. “Are you wearing those pants?”
“Absolutely, guurrlfriend!” He wiggled his butt at me. “Helps me get into character.”
“As the shark?” I asked with a giggle.
“I will be a shark like no other,” Zorro promised with a wink as he walked me out to the front porch.
Understatement of the century.
Looking over his shoulder to make sure we were alone, Zorro pressed his forehead to mine and sighed. “I didn’t know if you would make it.”
“I made it,” I said, swiping at a tear. “We all did.”
Zorro inspected me from head to toe, then nodded in satisfaction. “Guurrlfriend, I prayed to the Goddess so hard while you were in the tree, she must be sick of me.” He laughed and shook his head. “Zach was a straight-up hot mess. Had to force-feed him for a few weeks.”
Zorro had always been the caretaker. While Henrietta Smith had mostly gone after Zach’s blood, Zorro had taken the brunt of her voracious hunger when Zach was near death. Both men had tried to protect me from the abomination, but I’d taken my share of hits to relieve the horrific burden on the two men who meant the world to me. The fact that we were alive and Zach was free of the curse stole my breath.
“Everything is going to be alright now,” Zorro said with a wide grin.
I nodded and smiled. I’d tell him later that I wasn’t staying. Right now, I was living in the moment.
And the moment was as lovely as the smile on Zorro’s sweet face.
Chapter Five
According to the sign in the lobby, the community center was used for the Assjacket Community Theatre, the Assjacket Cloggers, the Assjacket Hot Yoga Club, the Assjacket Knitting Circle, the Assjacket Book Club, the Assjacket Curling Society, and the Assjacket Assjackians. I was curious about what the Assjacket Assjackians did, but realized some things were better left up to the imagination.
“Is this a joke?” I whispered to Sassy as we sat in the back row of the cavernous room and watched the shitshow unfold on the built-in stage.
I’d successfully avoided Zach like the plague and slipped out of the house with Zorro. I was still mad and sad that Zach had been such a wanker to his father even though my entire body tingled when he was near. The time would come for us to talk, but now I was here for Zorro.
Bob the beaver—with a sad and sparse looking unibrow—ran around the large room with a sheaf of paper in his hands, talking to himself a mile a minute. Roger the rabbit sat at the piano and plunked out tune after tune about how it felt to get eaten by a shark in graphic detail. Zorro stood off to the left of the piano, looking like he was in the ninth level of hell as a few other Assjackians zipped around looking terrified and lost.
“Nope,” Sassy said. “It’s a catastro-tree. That’s French for huge fucking mess.”
I giggled. “Actually, it was Puntreelish.”
“Shut the front door,” Sassy said with wide eyes and a wider smile. “I’m speaking a new language?”
“You are,” I told her. “It the language of the dryads and the trees.”
“You know,” she said, lowering her voice and putting her stiletto clad feet up on the row of chairs in front of us. “Sometimes, my excrement knowledge of language makes me feel like I’m almost smart. I mean, I know I’m not, but it’s good to aspirate to greatness. I’ve tried for months to learn Canadian, and I can’t understand a dang word of it.”
“Sassy,” I said, taking her hand and trying not to laugh. “You’re very smart in lots of different ways. From what I hear, you’re a wonderful mom to your adopted chipmunk Shifter sons and you can ride a broom like a professional.”
“I love riding my broom! Works best commando—that’s German for no panties. Did you know that?” she inquired with a naughty grin.
“Nope, but I do now,” I said with a laugh. “Are you in the show?”
“I was,” she said, looking forlorn. “I’m not sure if I am anymore since they changed it to Jaws. Last year I starred in the musical version of Mommie Dearest. I was Christina, and I was amazeballs. I killed the number No More Wire Hangers.”
I nodded because I wasn’t sure how to react to that one.
“Where’s the famous director?” I asked, glancing around.
“She’s late and not fashionably. She showed up out of nowhere
