Page 14 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“What? I saw his eyes crawl down her body. I’m naming wildlife.”

“He’s the groom,” my mother said, appearing with a glass of champagne and the brittle smile of a woman already under siege. “Could we please not start?”

Aunt Linda turned to her. “Marianne, your future son-in-law has the sexual discipline of a raccoon in a dumpster.”

My mother stared at her. Dad looked at the ocean while I covered my mouth with my glass.

“This,” my mother said, “is exactly why I was concerned about seating.”

“I thought it was because I’m divorced and unsupervised,” Aunt Linda said.

“You are impossible.”

“And yet…invited.”

Mom looked at me next. Her expression softened in the way that usually meant she was about to ask something unfair in a gentle voice.

“You look lovely, Cassie.”

“Thank you.”

“I know tonight may feel awkward.”

“There’s optimism.”

She sighed. “But Tessa is very nervous. I need you to help keep things calm.”

Dad’s head turned and Aunt Linda’s eyebrows shot up.

There it was. The old family reflex. Tessa trembled, so I steadied. Tessa cried, so I quieted. Tessa wanted, so everyone rearranged the room until wanting no longer looked selfish.

“Mary,” Dad warned.

She ignored him. “Just for the weekend.”

I smiled at my mother. It was not a kind smile, but it behaved in public.

“I’ll do my best to make the man who cheated on me with my sister feel celebrated.”

Her face tightened. “Must you say it that way?”

“How would you prefer I phrase it?”

“This is her wedding weekend.”

“It was my relationship.”

“Cassie.”

Aunt Linda stepped between us with the grace of a bouncer in gold hoops. “Marianne, go drink something with bubbles before I say what we are both thinking and only one of us will enjoy.”

My mother drew herself up. “I am going to check on Tessa.”

“Excellent choice.”

She swept away.

Dad rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Linda.”