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Were Me Out

By:Robyn Peterman

I began rearranging my mother's anally neat Tupperware and tried to appear calm and unaffected.

"Can't really tell you, darling. That would be unethical."

"Right," I mumbled and began counting all the meticulously stacked lids. There were twenty-four.

My dad took his job as pastor very seriously. He was a good man and I adored him-as did everyone in Hung, Georgia. Half of his congregation was human and had no clue he spent a great deal of his free time all furry and fanged while running through the woods with my mother.

We were a well-kept secret. Shifters had lived among humans for centuries. The less humans knew, the safer we were. My mom and dad had impressed on us all our lives how important living in secrecy was-especially my mom.

My mom was the love of my dad's life and his mate. My mom was all kinds of awesome and had more Tupperware than anyone I knew. I wanted a love like they had … real and true. I was pretty damn sure that my mom didn't check my dad's collar for lipstick that wasn't her own.

"However," my dad added thoughtfully with a slight grin-or maybe it was a grimace, I couldn't tell from my hunched over position on the floor. "Junior did seem to have a tremendous amount of impure thoughts about you."

"Is he a dumbass?" I shouted, jumping to my feet.

"Debatable," my dad replied with a chuckle.

"You think this is funny?" I demanded, standing up to my full five foot ten but still had to look up to my six foot four father. "He's trying to ruin my life. I don't find that even the least bit humorous."

"How exactly did you come to that conclusion, Sandy?" he asked, taking a seat at the large oak kitchen table and resting his chin on steepled fingers.

Crap. That was his I'm gonna lay a few unwanted truths on you position.

"Because he's a man hooker," I informed my dad in my outdoor voice.


"And I just used the word man and hooker in a sentence. I think that should explain it," I huffed and plopped myself down in the chair next to him.

"Your use of the English language is amazing, considering you have two Master's degrees and a doctorate. However, I do find your description of our Alpha interesting," he said with a raised brow and a barely suppressed smile.

"My unhealthy amount of education taught me to be succinct. Man hooker is the quickest way to make my point about our Alpha," I told him, trying not to grin. Unfortunately talking about Junior always made me grin.

"You sure about that?" my dad asked.

"About what? My unhealthy amount of somewhat useless degrees or the fact that Junior is loose in the morals department?"

"The loose part."

"Well, if you want to know if I've actually witnessed it, then no. However, his reputation is well known across several states."

I let my head fall to the table in defeat. Why did I have to be obsessed with the one guy who everyone else wanted-and had already had?

"Can't people change?" he asked.

"Nope," I stated with conviction-desperately wanting to be wrong.

"But you changed," Dad said, playing with a swan shaped napkin that my mother had meticulously folded.

For the life of me I couldn't make a swan out of a napkin, but I was an outstanding arm wrestler and could hack into even the most protected of government websites. Screw the swans. A person couldn't be good at everything.

"Dad, I changed on the outside-not the inside," I reminded him.

I'd been a large teenager, to put it kindly. My shift had come unnaturally late and my body did all sorts of horrible and embarrassing things during puberty-the worst was that my delayed shifting ability had caused a tremendous weight gain. It was a rare phenomenon in the Werewolf world, but leave it to me to be blessed with the one in a million malady.

"True, but before your first shift you were withdrawn and shy. After, you were a confident young woman who could give her crazy ass brothers a run for their money in the wrestling department," he noted with a grin.

"Dad, you just said ass," I informed him, trying to change the direction of the conversation-I wasn't fond of discussing my large days.

"Yes I did," he replied with a grin and a shrug. "And it fits-even a pastor can say a bad word now and then when referring to your brothers. All I'm saying is you might want to give the boy a chance. Not saying you have to mate with him-just hear him out."

"Wait a second," I said as my blood began to boil. "Are you saying I changed because I lost weight? That I'm a better person skinny?"

My dad shook his head and chuckled. "You, my child, are beautiful at any weight and I mean that. A person's body is just that-a body. I'm simply saying behaviors can occur due to reasons-external and internal."

"Why does it feel like you're saying much more than you're saying?" I asked, closing my eyes and wishing I'd just gone to my own house.

"Because I am. Now it's your job to figure out what I mean," he replied planting a kiss on the top of my head.

"I have to grow up?"

"Might be a good idea."

"I was going to do that tomorrow," I told him, opening one eye and peeking over at him.

"Sounds like a plan," he said as he grabbed an apple and started out of the kitchen. "Go talk to your mom. She might be able to shed some light on a few things."

"Cryptic much?" I muttered under my breath only to hear my dad laugh as he made his way down the hall. Werewolf hearing was outstanding, but I was pretty sure my dad could even hear my thoughts.


I was going to pull up my big girl panties-or thong, to be more accurate-and I was going to grow up.

But first I was going to talk to my mom.

Chapter Three

"Hi sweetie," Mom said with a delighted smile as she put down her knitting and patted the cushion next to her.

I glanced at the fluffy white hat she'd been working on and sighed-another skill I didn't have. Most things domestic weren't