Claws & Crochet

Part 91

ZOEY

"But who is going to get us our beers?"

"Byron, I love you, but you need to grow some ovaries."

"The phrase is, grow some balls," Donovan argues.

"Ovaries are tough," I point out. "Balls are sensitive. If I aimed a kick between your legs, what would you do?"

Unconsciously, my brother guards his privates with both his hands, as if he thinks I'm going to enact the hypothetical situation.

Point proven.

"Exactly. Balls make you weak. Grow some ovaries, apologize to the girl, and stop dating people at your favorite hangout spots."

Byron grumbles while Donovan watches me with wary eyes, still trying to figure out if my question was rhetorical or not.

The four Gunner boys are gathered in the driveway, putting off their departure with an endless list of excuses. Some more valid than others.

"There's no cell signal here! No Wi-Fi!" Carver holds his phone up to the sky as if an extra foot of height might change things.

"I'm going to fix that." Warner clomps down from the front porch, stepping over a napping Bruce on his way. My man looks delicious in his work boots and worn jeans. He's left his leathers off today, in work mode.

When I decided to stay in Pine Falls, my mom announced she was signing the cabin over to me. An early Christmas present. And birthday present. And next Christmas, too.

She left the day after the confrontation with Rebecca, needing to get back to her job.

My brothers also have jobs, but they've dragged their feet an extra day, as if that's all that's needed to get me to return to Denver with them.

Their efforts are futile.

Since I'm officially staying, a few upgrades need to be made to Minnie's place.

My place.

And my werewolf is all too happy to help.

Despite their whining, Carver, Byron, and Donovan seemed to have warmed up to my boyfriend, reaching out to give him farewell backslaps and one-armed hugs.

Abram's arms stay crossed, and his face remains blank. That is until the crunch of tires on the driveway and the hood of a familiar truck appears. The yellow vehicle has my oldest brother scowling.

"The building crew has arrived!" Courtney shouts from the driver's seat, as Tanya leans out the shotgun window, gaping at my brothers.

"Oh my god! Is this what men look like in Denver?" Warner's sister asks at full volume. Carver grins, while Byron and Donovan shift in discomfort. Good, maybe the besotted teenager will finally get them to go before they collectively lose their jobs.

"You need to get out in the world girl." Courtney climbs out and saunters over to our little gathering. "Did I miss the glitter wrestling?"

If it's possible, Abram's frown gets deeper. He is not a Courtney fan. Too bad because she's one of my new best friends.

"Why are you here?" He asks, and I slap his arm for the rude tone he uses.

Courtney just smirks and flicks one of his bulging biceps before strolling to the bed of her truck and gesturing at an abundance of wood. "Building crew. Like I said."

"How much do you bench?" Tanya asks Donovan, staring up at my brother with sparkling eyes.

"Uh," he shifts uncomfortably, glancing my way for a rescue. "Around two fifty, I guess?"

"Really? That's it? Hell, I can do two fifty," she says, disappointment clear in her tone.

Carver coughs out a laugh as Donovan's face goes red. The teenaged werewolf moves to join Courtney. The two women start unloading the wood on their own, my brothers watching with wide eyes. Warner moves to join them, leaving me alone with my family.

"Are they building a new treehouse?" Donovan asks.

"The treehouse." Abram points at me, with an almost accusing finger. "That still doesn't make sense."

"I told you," I try keeping my voice casual. "It was all a misunderstanding. Warner's mom thought I wanted to take the thing down, and she thought she was helping me out by starting on it. She had no idea I still climbed up in the thing."

Lies. I hate lying to my brothers. But this thing between me and Warner is still new. If it doesn't work out, I can't guarantee they wouldn't use the knowledge of his family trouble to enact some intricate form of revenge.

Also, the amount of explaining necessary to get them to believe in the supernatural gives me a phantom headache.

"Did she at least apologize?" Abram glowers in the direction of town. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a stiffness in Warner's shoulders and sad cast to Tanya's face. Apparently, werewolves have better than normal hearing.

"Of course." More lies. Need to get off this topic.

"We're not building a treehouse!" Courtney shouts before disappearing around the side of the cabin. Leaving us all in suspense.

When she returns, it's to the full attention of her audience. Fists planted on her hips, she announces, "We're building a chicken coop. Queen Omelet has been wondering when she can come home."

"Oh god, you're actually going to raise chickens?" Byron stares at me in horror.

The idea gives me a wonderful sense of grounding.

"Yeah. I'm going to raise chickens." I catch Warner's eye as he hefts a load of wood onto his shoulder. The happy grin he wears is like a hug straight to the heart.

Poor birds. They're going to have to deal with a wolf in their henhouse.