AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When she was a young lady, Mama Ginger got cited for mooning a busload of tourists in town for the annual lace-tatting convention. But Gabriel didn’t know that, so he looked appropriately chagrined.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, slinking back into the bar.
“And Jane, you just go on over to the bride’s table and sit down. But first, fix your lipstick. You look like a tramp.” My jaw dropped. “You heard me. Now, scoot!”
When I emerged from the bathroom, feeling far less clean than when I went in, Jolene, Zeb, my vampire friends, and some of Jolene’s uncles were doing shots at the bar. This included Uncle Zane, who sounded a lot like Boomhauer from King of the Hill. The only words you could understand were his curse words. And he cursed a lot. His twin brother, Dane, made a point not to curse, instead using elementary-grade curse substitutes. When I made my preshot toast, “Here’s to heavy security at the wedding,” Zane said something along the lines of “Like that will do any damned good.” Dane told Zane to watch his effing mouth in front of the effing ladies, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, come on, just say the words,” Jolene drawled, patting Dane on the back. “We all know what you’re trying to say, just go ahead, be a man and go for the guessto.”
I chuckled. “Either you’ve had too much punch or I think you mean gusto.”
Zeb snorted as he took another drink. “Well, Jolene’s not exactly a rocket scientist. She also says ‘foo pas’ instead of faux pas and ‘lie-berry’ instead of library.”
Jolene recoiled as if Zeb had slapped her. Zane and Dane looked at Zeb as if they were sure they’d heard him wrong, then abandoned their drinks, returned to the werewolf side of the room, and glared at their nephew-to-be. Even Dick and Gabriel seemed uncomfortable.
Despite the disturbing pallor that had sapped her cheeks, Jolene gave a forced, tinkly little laugh. “It’s a good thing I have smart friends. I think I’ll just get some more punch.”
Zeb rolled his eyes and punched Gabriel’s shoulder. “It’s a good thing she’s got such a pretty face, because there’s not much going on behind it.”
I sent a significant look toward Zeb. He had that hazy, befuddled look on his face again, like someone coming out of anesthesia. He seemed to shake it off, his eyes blinking as he tried to follow Jolene’s path across the room. A brief flash of remorse crossed his features. Then it was replaced by some empty macho smirk. “You might want to go apologize to her.”
Zeb took another drink and crushed the cup in his hand before tossing it over his shoulder. “You’re right. Otherwise, I’ll be paying for it later. Am I right?”
Zeb slapped me on the butt and wandered away. My jaw dropped. Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, but from the look on his face, I don’t think he was able to process whether Zeb had just besmirched my honor or butt-slapping was something we did when I was still human. Trust me, it was not. But I wasn’t about to goad my drunk vampire boyfriend in this tense atmosphere.
“What was that about?” asked Dick, who was watching Zeb with a mix of irritation and concern. “Zeb’s not usually such a—”
“Ash-hole?” Gabriel slurred, and swayed slightly.
Eager to change the direction of the conversation, I stared into Gabriel’s dilated pupils. “How did you get drunk so quickly? I thought our vampire constitutions kept us from being cheap drunks.”
“I’m not drunk!” Gabriel cried, indignant. “All I’ve had to drink was this punch Jolene’s cousins gave me. It’s delicious. It tastes like pineapple.”
“You were completely sober when I left you a few minutes ago.” I sniffed the cup and turned to watch as the bartenders poured two gallon jugs of grain alcohol into a galvanized metal tub with Kool-Aid, sliced apples, pineapple, and pears.
Like many a college freshman before him, Gabriel had fallen into the hooch trap.
Hooch is liquid evil. It’s about forty-proof, but the Kool-Aid and fruit cover the taste of the alcohol. So before you know you’re drunk, you’ve had about four Solo cups’ worth.
“Well, it’s a good thing you can’t eat the fruit,” I muttered.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this.” Dick chuckled, watching as Gabriel squinted at the neon bar lights. “Gabriel couldn’t hold his liquor when we were kids, either. He ruined the last good carpet at my house sicking up my daddy’s best bourbon. You should have seen how green his face got—”
Gabriel slapped a clumsy hand over Dick’s mouth. “Shh. Jane shouldn’t have to hear that story. It’s not a nice story, you can tell by looking at her face. I love Jane’s face. She makes the sweetest little face when I take her—hey!” He pouted when I slid his hooch out of reach.
“I think I’d like to hear this,” Dick said, his expression serious.
“You, go outside and sober up,” I told Gabriel, shoving him toward the door. I turned on a smirking Dick. “You, stop thinking about my sex faces.”
Dick grinned. “I’ll just follow Gabriel outside to see if he throws up.”
“Worst. Party. Ever,” I grumbled as I searched for the bride-to-be.
Jolene was drowning her sorrows in beer weenies. I would tell her that she was going to eat her way out of a size 4, but she had that hypermetabolism going for her. Plus, you just don’t want to interrupt someone with superstrength when they’re stress-eating. So I sort of nudged a plate of chicken wings at her without making eye contact. I saw a biologist do it once on a tiger special, something about submissive gestures and keeping all of your digits intact.
Jolene tore into the wings with a sort of glum sniffle, but I could tell her heart wasn’t in her munching.
“I’m sorry Zeb said that,” I told her.
