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“Aww, we didn’t mean anything by it,” Drake said sullenly.
“We were just paying her compliments,” Billy offered, looking up at Jack uneasily.
“Right. By offering to ‘double knot’ her?” I could hear the fury in Jack’s deep, growling voice and I thought uneasily that I had never seen him so angry before. He was usually a very even-tempered man but now he looked ready to rip both their heads off!
“Well you shouldn’t have her out so near the full moon if you don’t want her to get noticed!” Drake said defensively. “And what’s she doing with you anyway—it’s not like you can breed her yourself—you’re her Blood-guardian.”
“Yeah—you oughta bring her to the pack grounds and let someone else have a chance at her,” Billy chimed in.
“She’s not a Were, so nobody is going to be breeding her,” Daddy Jack growled. “Least of all your sorry asses. You boys had better get yourselves home—I know both your fathers and I won’t hesitate to call them and tell them what a pair of rude assholes they raised.”
At that point, the store owner came rushing over, wanting to know what was wrong and what had happened.
“Nothing,” Jack grated through a clenched jaw. “These two customers were just leaving while they still have all their teeth in their heads.”
Billy gave him a frightened look—if he’d been a dog, his tail would have been tucked between his legs. But Drake was still defiant.
“You think she’s not a Were? Think again, old man,” he snarled at Jack. “You only have to smell her scent to know she’s coming into her Heat Cycle!”
And he sniffed loudly as though to illustrate his point. Unfortunately, he had a gob of spaghetti sauce right under his nose and he snorted it right up his nostril, which caused him to hack and cough violently until his fair skin turned dark, blotchy red.
It would have been funny if what he was saying wasn’t so confusing and strange. What did he mean, saying I smelled like a “Were?”
Jack didn’t reply. He just gave the younger man a disgusted look and put his arm protectively around my shoulders.
“Come on, Princess—we’ll come back for these things later.”
“I’ll see they’re delivered to your cabin, Jack,” the owner said quickly. “On me—I’m sorry for this trouble.”
“Not your fault and I can pay my own bills,” Jack said. “But if you’d have them delivered, I’d appreciate it. Just put them on my card.”
Then he turned—taking me with him—and we left the store.
FIVE
We were silent on the way back home, until finally Uncle Jack turned to me and frowned.
“Do you see why maybe it’s not a good idea to go around without a bra, Madison?” he asked sternly.
“Blaming the victim, much, Jack?” I scoffed, feeling irritated enough not to call him “Daddy” for once. “It’s not my fault those assholes came after me!”
Jack blew out a breath in what sounded like pure frustration.
“Look—I know you ought to be able to wear whatever you want without getting harassed! In a perfect world, you could walk around naked and nobody would bat an eye. But we’re not living in a perfect world here, Princess. There are always going to be assholes like Drake Wilkes and Billy Masters around—I just want you to be safe.”
Well, I couldn’t argue with that. I could see he was just worried for my wellbeing. But the encounter at the grocery store had put me on edge and I still had a mind to argue.
“But they shouldn’t have—” I began.
“It’s all right if you want to run around the house without a bra—I know you like to feel free. But I’m going to have to insist that you wear one if we go into town from now on,” Jack lectured. “Otherwise you’re going to get more of the wrong kind of attention.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m just so sensitive lately,” I told him, nodding down at my tight nipples. “The lace on all my bras rubs me the wrong way and it hurts. It’s like all my bras have gotten too small and itchy lately.”
Jack gave me a sympathetic look.
“All right—I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you say so, Princess? We can always get you new bras.” He studied my jiggling breasts from the corner of his eye. “Might need to get a bigger size too—I think you might have grown some. I don’t think you’re a double D anymore. You might be a triple D now—or even bigger.”
“What?” I was shocked to hear him talking about women’s bra sizes like he knew all about them. “How do you know about that? About bra sizes, I mean?” I demanded.
Jack got a far-away look in his eyes—a kind of sad, pensive expression.
“I know more about women than you might think, baby girl. I was nearly mated—I mean married—once, you know. Her name was Jessica and I loved her dearly.”
