Page 29 of A Wulver for the Week

“Girl! Hush,” I hiss.

“Like I didn’t know that? We share a wall,” Cora smirks at me. “That man doesn’t need to sleep, does he?”

“Um. He had a lot of coffee yesterday,” I fib. “Let’s go and get all luscious. This is Gerri’s moment, not mine.” I usher my younger cousins ahead of me.

“Minnie, listen to me. I’m not even like that. As long as you don’t get engaged during my wedding or the reception, I don’t mind if you want to make an announcement while the family is all together,” Gerri hints.

“Oh. Oh... Uh. We’re not at that stage yet.” I wish we were, but I’m not foolish enough to think a guy would propose after one night together. After six weeks of getting closer. After sharing a magical week in the islands...

Wait,arewe at that stage?

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Mama suddenly swoops in like a bird of prey, her hair already in rollers.

“Mama!”

“He loves to fish, likes your family, your family likes him, he’s got a steady job, and he’s a Braves fan! What are you waiting for?” Mama whacks me on the arm with the novel she’s carrying.

“I don’t know! For him to ask me, I guess. That’s all. Calm down, Mama, you’re bending your book. What are you reading, anyway?” I snatch the book as my mother makes a grab for it. “A Victorian Demon’s Guide to London, Love, and Being a Hero?Mama, what...” I flip open a random page and immediately feel my eyelashes catch fire. “Mother!”

“I’m a grown woman, Minerva Johnson. And don’t make me ask Cora just what she heard through that wall—and these are not cheap, thin motel walls, neither!” Mama purses her lips and slaps my arm with the book for good measure.

“Yes, Mama.”

“FOR HIM TO ASK ME.That’s all.”

I wasn’t eavesdropping. Not really. Wulvers have great hearing, and I was just passing by.

Okay, okay. I was following Minnie because she was walking bowlegged, and watching her try to sit down at breakfast made me feel so guilty.

And turned on.

“You’re a horrible man, Craig Macpherson,” I mutter to myself as I leave the spa area and stalk off to the beach, ready for a day of fishing with the menfolk. “It shouldnae turn you on to see the woman you love having a hard time sitting down!”

Except that it’s from Minnie accepting me as I am.Morethan accepting me.

I picture the final moments of our first coupling, where my knot was still swollen inside of her but beginning to shrink. She was riding me, grinding her mound to my knot as it was starting to slide from her. She used me to bring herself off one more time, cum gushing across us, her fingers clutching the ruff of fur that lies over my sternum. I could feel her peaking over and over during the hour we were knotted together, knowing she was full of me, full of my seed, and totally, thoroughly uninhibited.

She’s mine. My mate. I’ve marked her.

And now I’ve heard that she’ll accept my offer of marriage if I just ask.

“You look like you’re lost in the sauce, son,” Minerva’s father is suddenly next to me, a fishing rod in one hand and a cooler in the other. “Did the storms keep you up?”

“I’m fine, sir, thank you. The storms dinnae bother me, and they’ve cleared out some of the humidity. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” The storms from last night blew through in the wee hours and left today bright and glistening with blue water and blue sky kissing in the horizon.

“It’s glorious! And it’s supposed to be this way for the next three days. Good wedding weather, and good weather for flying out. You and Minnie ought to make your next trip down to see us.”

“I‘d love that, or you could come and stay with us— I mean, with her. Or me. I have a little townhouse with extra rooms.”

“Stay with you two, huh? That sounds pretty serious. I guess now is as good a time as any to ask. What are your intentions where Minnie is concerned?”

“I would like to marry her, sir, with your approval. Or without it. I want to marry her either way, but I’m hoping you’ll like the idea.”

Mr. Johnson’s face breaks into a huge smile, and he sticks out his hand. “I sure do like it! The one thing about Minnie taking her sweet time to meet someone is that I don’t worry about who she picked. She’s too damn picky to just grab anyone off the streets.”

My stomach twists. Not anyone off the streets, but shedidsort of grab me in desperation. And I’ve told her my secrets. Felt hers wrapped around me.

What if this is just a novelty? And it all wears off? Reality is so different from this tropical, all-expenses-paid vacation and constant celebration.

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