Page 45 of Bewitched By the Werewolf
“You don’t like surprises, do you?”
“What gave it away? My constant questions or the knife in my boot?”
“Although the knife was a top indicator, I would say it was your utter lack of patience and unyielding suspicion.”
I hum and nod, trying not to break character with a girly giggle. I like Ryder’s sass. He’s funny. Am I going to tell him that? Not yet. I’m about to deliver the most insistent speech about surprises killing the unwilling recipient but stop short when we round a line of trees and a clearing comes into view.
This is where everyone was heading. There has to be at least half the town in attendance. I don’t recall seeing this many people coming down the path. Where did they all come from?
There are couples snuggling on blankets and kids running around chasing one another, groups of young teens gathered in animated chatter. It’s what I would expect a town picnic to look like. There’s even tables set up along one line of trees at the back of the clearing with spreads of treats, drinks, and popcorn. Popcorn because at the far end of the bustling clearing rests an old-school drive in theater screen, propped up against the tall trees for support. Perched in some sort of hunting box in a tree opposite of the screen I spot someone readying a projector.
It’s a movie theater. An outdoor, walk-up,free,movie theater?
I’ve literally stopped still, taking in the sight before me, completely and utterly surprised. In a good way. No murderous killer hiding in the forest waiting for me. Not that I think Ryder would let anything like that happen to me. I feel safe around him, and not just because he’s the sheriff. It’s his overall aura, it’s protective and powerful.
Ryder reaches over and taps a knuckle under my chin. I hadn’t realized I was open mouth gaping at the sight.
“Not what you were expecting?” he asks. I can hear the smile in his voice, but I don’t turn my attention away from the outdoor movie theater to check.
“Not even a little bit,” I admit. If he had asked me to guess, anything I would have come up with wouldn’t even have come close to the truth.
“See? Some surprises are worth waiting for.”
“What is this exactly? Do you do this every night?”
“Movie under the stars night is put on by the library once a week during the warmer months. Once the temperature drops and the rain and snow start, it’s not very much fun.”
“No, I suppose it wouldn’t be,” I agree. “Are we staying for the movie?” Now I do turn to look up at him, strangely hopeful he says yes.
“If you would like to. I have a spot in the back I like to sit in so I can keep an eye on everyone.”
“Always on duty huh?”
He shrugs but doesn’t answer, instead places his hand on the small of my back and leads me farther into the field and crowd of people. I spot familiar faces, people I’ve befriended in town. Most of which were solely to seek out information and discover the truth, but I’ve grown to actually like most of them. They’re all so weirdly nice and friendly. For so many years everyone always knew me as the creepy werewolf girl and made snide comments both behind my back and to my face. It’s refreshing to be seen as just Tess and nothing more.
“Are you hungry? Would you like anything to eat or drink?”
Ryder gestures to the tables and I eye them from a distance, not wanting to interfere with those already lined up. It has been a long time since I had a bowl of popcorn.
“Popcorn sounds good.”
We venture to the popcorn table where they have one of those wheeled mobile popcorn machines. It’s painted red and white with stripes and images of popcorn. They have to pour in real kernels and butter and wait for them to pop. No microwave bags here.
Dottie and a young man stand behind the table, filling paper bags with hot buttery popcorn that smells almost as good as Ryder. Melted butter and salt on hot fresh popped corn kernels. It makes my mouth water, and I have to lick my lips to keep from drooling.
“Hi there Tess, Ryder. Would you like some fresh popcorn?” Dottie holds up a freshly topped off bag with matching red and white stripes.
“Absolutely. It smells amazing,” I answer earnestly.
“Secret’s in the butter.” She winks and shooshes me conspiratorially. “Secret family recipe.”
“Ma,” the guy next to her scolds with a smile on his face. “Don’t be giving away my secret recipes to strangers. What’s the point of them being secret then?”
Ma? As in mother? As in Dottie birthed this completely grown ass man that looks way too old to be her son?
“Oh hush. I’m not giving away anything. I’m just promoting the special quality of the product. Nothing wrong with that.”
Dottie’ssonshakes his head but laughs at his mother, returning to filling more bags for others. He’s a handsome guy, taller than his mother but with the same dirty blonde hair color. I look between him and Dottie utterly confused. Do they have the fountain of youth around here somewhere? Maybe I should be hunting for that and not shifters.
