Page 53 of Crave

“Lacey?”

Dallas instantly released me. I leaped away from him, stumbling in the hay. But it was too late. Heart pounding, I whirled towards the bandstand. My mother looked between me and Dallas, face slack with disbelief. But that wasn’t the worst part. Not the part that stilled the breath in my lungs. It was the slender man with wire-rimmed glasses standing beside her.

She was here with a werewolf.

9

Dallas

“DALLAS CALDWELL?”

Had to give the Blair girls credit. They didn’t half-ass anything. One second, Juliet was glaring daggers at me and the next, Lacey had rushed in to drag her mom bodily behind her, eyes flaring amber as she faced down the unfamiliar male werewolf.

For what it was worth, the guy looked about as threatening as your local college professor. Slim build. Deep brown skin. Afro cropped close in a grown-out buzz. Pretty sure that swanky cashmere sweater and slacks combo retailed for more than my monthly car payment.

Lacey bared her teeth. “Lay a finger on her and I will so throat punch you.”

So much for introductions.

Everyone under that big blinking tree from the band conductor to the antler-bedecked basset hound munching contentedly on funnel cake whipped their heads around to stare. Time to get out of there. And fast.

“Sidebar.”

Grabbing Lacey by the elbow before she could shift and eat two or three of the carolers, I dragged her off towards a line of cut Christmas trees hiding the parking lot from view. By some miracle, Juliet and he-who-was-about-to-be-lunchmeat followed.

We stopped just behind a row of food trucks, the smell of hot chocolate and kettle corn thick in the air. Which was apparently cue for everyone to start yelling at once.

“Dallas Caldwell? Are you kidding me?”

“Me?” Lacey growled, shooting a dark look in the direction of werewolf guy. I mentally catalogued the location of all her knives and came up two short.Not good. “You didn’t even tell me you were seeing anyone.”

“No way.” Juliet held up a finger. “This is so not about me. You’re with him?” If I’d previously thought it was impossible for anyone to stare at me with more revulsion than my dad had standing over me in the barn the night I was sent away, I was wrong. “Please tell me this is some sort of sick joke.”

“I never meant to hurt Lacey.”

Juliet glared daggers. “I’d suggest not talking. You’ve done enough damage.”

I held up both hands. “You can believe me or not, but it’s the truth.”

Lacey rubbed her forehead. “Okay. Not helping.”

“Yes, and of course privileged little rich boy Dallas Caldwell always deserves one more chance.”

“If we’re going to Dr. Phil this, do we really have to do it here?” Lacey bared her teeth at her mom’s date. “And in front of him?”

Lunchmeat waved his coffee, which I could smell without even needing to read the label was one of those super-hipster Austin drinks. Soy non-fat sugar-free decaf with an infusion of healing energy. “I’m Simon—"

I shook my head. “Dude. Not helping.”

He cringed. “Right. Sorry.”

Mother and daughter faced off. “Those first months after you came back, you were like a ghost. I’d go to bed and you’d pace the house for hours, wandering from room to room, unable to sleep, barely wanting to eat. You lost so much weight I barely recognized you—”

Lacey covered her face. “Mom, please.”

“You wouldn’t see a counselor. Wouldn’t talk to any of your old friends. Some nights you sat on the couch for hours staring straight ahead as if I wasn’t even in the room. You—”

Rubbing her temples, she swayed in place.