Chapter 6

      A full moon on singles’ night, it wouldn’t be hard to find a partner for the evening. Tristan, weary of the primitive drive for sex a full moon triggered, just wanted to get it over.

      In his twenties, he’d been more appreciative of the biological urge. Now, in his midthirties, he’d become too tired or too bored to care.

      Still, he had to be careful about coupling with the same female too often or risk inspiring false hope about future possibilities. Though he was always upfront about his commitment to singlehood, some women considered it their mission to convert him to the ranks of the happily mated. In his family, happy and mated were an incongruent pairing.

      He lifted a frosted beer mug to his lips. Cold, dark ale slid down his throat and plunked into his empty stomach. The gnawing clench didn’t ease and likely wouldn’t until the full moon passed.

      “Hey, Tristan.” One of the she-wolves had broken away from her friends to sidle up to his table. A dark-haired beauty, her slightly upturned nose and pretty eyes spaced close together made her look exotic and mysterious.

      “Sonia, you look lovely tonight.” He focused on her face rather than ogling the swells of her breasts popping out of the low-cut neckline. At least twelve years his junior, she didn’t appeal to him on a sexual level and it bothered him that some of the older males nearby were practically panting for her.

      “Are you waiting for someone?” She-wolves didn’t flush from embarrassment and they definitely weren’t shy. But, Tristan heard the hitch in her breath as she waited for his response.

      “Sorry, doll, I am.” He lied, knowing he wouldn’t bed her tonight or any night.

      He hated that the process of selecting a moon-fuck partner had become so tedious and torturous. Some unmated wolfans had regular partners for the full-moon nights. The pair usually did not maintain a social relationship. They merely rendezvoused in the woods and took care of business as wolves. Tristan had considered doing the same, but hadn’t had the time to discuss a possible partnership with the limited, unmated she-wolves his age.

      “Aww.” Sonia’s voice turned soft and seductive. “Mind if I keep you company while you wait?”

      “Not tonight.” Or any other night as far as he was concerned.

      Her smile turned pouty. “I’ll be at the bar, if you change your mind.”

      I won’t.

      Tristan tipped his head, then picked up the beer mug and swallowed the ale without tasting it. Sonia sashayed toward her friends. She was the fourth she-wolf he’d turned down tonight. If he kept at it, he wouldn’t get laid.

      For the past two months, he’d missed the full-moon fuck. The first time, Ruby had fallen ill and he’d taken her to the hospital. The second, he got called in to help a neighboring town’s law enforcement deal with a multicar collision that had resulted in a dozen casualties.

      Tonight, Tristan had no choice. He had to have sex or run the risk of elevated wolfan hormones awakening his beast.

      An unexpected electric charge pulsed along his nerves. His heartbeat kicked up two notches. Before the restaurant doors opened, he made a guess at who would enter. Even though he shouldn’t, he couldn’t wait to see her.

      Penelope cautiously stepped into the restaurant. Tonight, her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. She wore white jeans and a billowy black blouse that hid her generous curves.

      Curves his hands ached to feel again and that had tormented him in his dreams.

      Intense desire spread through his body like a wildfire during a drought. The full-moon effects were starting early.

      A tumble with her might be foremost on his mind, but was definitely not on his agenda. He’d pegged her as a forever kind of woman and he needed to stay far, far away from her.

      Her confident stance was slightly marred by her uncertain gaze as she eyeballed her surroundings. Though she failed to notice him, Tristan couldn’t drag his attention from her.

      The hostess greeted her and picked up one menu.

      Here alone and not expecting anyone.

      His evening just got better and more complicated. Not unlike felines, curiosity often got the best of wolfans. And he wanted to know why she’d specifically called out for him, Friday night.

      Watching Penelope follow the hostess to a table, he scooted back from his own.

      “Tristan!” A feminine squeal rang in his left ear. Slender arms lassoed his neck and a sloppy kiss dampened his cheek.

      Damn!

      He hated being blindsided. Keeping a tight cap on his irritation, Tristan focused on the woman making a concerted effort to squeeze onto his lap.

      “Hello, doll.” Tristan didn’t budge an inch to allow her room.

      He searched her vaguely familiar features but couldn’t recall her name. Heavy perfume and cigarette smoke clung to her skin, so her scent was no help in identifying her, either.

      “Long time no see,” she said, all breathy and dramatically animated. “I hoped you would be here.”

      “And so I am.” He consciously smiled, racking his brain for a name.

      A name, a name, he’d give up his dinner to remember her name.

      Well, maybe not. Wolfans loved to eat.

      Shoving back the table, she managed to wedge herself onto his lap. Her arms draped his shoulders. Long, red nails raked his hair.

      Huh!

      Not one single spark. He felt absolutely nothing.

      What the hell was wrong with him?

      A full moon, a willing woman and not one flicker of interest. He might’ve suspected some type of dysfunction if not for his reaction to Penelope.

      “What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?” Not that he cared, but her response might help him figure out her identity.

      “Kenny and I divorced. The rat bastard skipped out on child support so the kids and I had to move back to Maico to live with my mom.” Tears glistened in her heavily painted eyes.

      Somehow, Tristan