Werewolves Don't Wear Cowboy Boots

Chapter 3: It's not a party until you bloody someone's nose

She didn't notice, at first, the way Mackenzie was staring at her. Bridget was temporarily preoccupied by the site of Angelo with his sleeves rolled up, hoisting heavy boxes of supplies into order in the storeroom. It was the "ahem" that pulled her back to reality.

Startled out of her daydream, Bridget glanced at the petite, pink-haired girl and was met with a knowing grin. "I mean, I can't blame you for being a little dazed. He is pretty hot."

Bridget gave a short laugh and one last appreciative look in the direction of the olive-skinned Adonis that worked alongside of them at the restaurant, then shook her head. "If only he talked. Do you know, I don't think he's said more than a handful of words to me?"

"Mhmmm." Kenzie's admiring gaze was locked firmly on Angelo. "I don't mind, though. It's not talking I want from him."

Bridget laughed and went back to filling the shakers of cheese. "You're terrible. But I can't say I entirely disagree."

Kenzie moved across the counter from Bridget and leaned against it, looking up at her with brown eyes shining merrily. "But on the subject of boys ... one of the customers invited me to a party tonight. Do you want to go along?"

Bridget considered how to answer for a moment, weighing the pros and cons.

Pro: She could go to a party and maybe enjoy herself.

Con: Would a party here be worth enjoying?

Pro: Even if it turned out to be a disaster, she would not be sitting alone in a silent house.

Con: Colum would not approve, which meant thinking up a believable lie or being very sly -- or both.

Pro: She had great practice at those things.

She smiled brightly at Kenzie and finished with the last of the shakers. "I'd love to go along."

It seemed like a grand idea at the time. And then hours later – after she'd orchestrated a convincing story for Colum and caught a ride with Kenzie – she found herself at said party wondering if, perhaps, this was the way the universe was punishing her for lying to her brother. It really wasn't so different from a party anywhere else. The music, the drinks, the dancing were all the same as any other gathering she'd been to. Aside from the accents, even the boys and girls dressed and acted just as boys and girls did anywhere. The difference was her. She was an outsider, and she felt it keenly, especially when Kenzie wandered off with some girls she knew.

Bridget sipped her drink slowly, trying to pretend she didn't notice the way she was being stared at. It was working well enough until a blonde in a sundress bumped into her, spilling a colorful cocktail all down the front of Bridget's white top.

"Oops. So sorry," the girl said with a smile that was not at all sincere.

She might have raged at the girl, but instead she swallowed back her anger and said, "It's no bother at all." It was – the top was a favorite and she couldn't very well afford to buy new clothes whenever she wished – but girls traveled in packs and fought dirty. Picking a fight, she knew, was not a good way to start life in a small community where everyone knew everyone else.

The blonde's eyebrows drew down as one of the boys separated from the pack and came to Bridget's assistance. "You should be more careful, Liz," he said to the girl as he flashed a smile toward Bridget. He had blue eyes, hair that looked as if it had as much product as any girl's, and an athletic build – slender rather than bulky. If his shirt was any indication, he played baseball for the local college. "Come on," he said, nodding his head toward the far side of the room. "Let me help you with that."