Page 5 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

She nodded for emphasis, and I repeated the gesture back at her. While the grand majority of my family had thick Italian, Jersey, or even Italian-Jersey accents, my sister often played hers up for emphasis. I never took it as her being fake, but rather a way of expressing herself in a family where time and attention were the two tightest resources.

“But, oh! You should see my new girl. She owns a football club in the UK. Here, hold my babies!”

She shoved her purse into Paulie’s arms. He took it, of course, because we all knew that her two children, Rosemary and Oregano, were inside.

I wasn’t into small dogs, and a Yorkshire Terrier and a Chihuahua were the definition of small, but Ginna lavished them with so much energy and enrichment that neither had anxiety, aggression, or bladder problems. They loved their mama and most wolf shifters since they smelled related—at least, that’s what she told us.

“Here she is,” she said, brandishing her phone and shoving it into Paulie’s face. She was smiling, but I wasn’t sure if that was just because her high ponytail was so tight it was tugging up the corners of her mouth. “Isn’t she gorgeous? She says she loves spoiling someone down to earth like me.”

I nearly choked on my spit and quickly turned my attention back to the cake while my sister monologued. I knew she meant every word, but I also knew the two would eventually break up and then she’d be on to the next rich boyfriend or girlfriend she could land.

Some of the family judged her for it, but honestly, I admired her for doing her own thing. I was twenty-nine—wait, no; I was thirty now—and I’d never so much as lived on my own. Ginna had apartments in the heart of NYC, LA, Paris, and London. She knew what she was doing and living well.

She was living for herself.

That thought stayed with me while I finished cutting the cake. It lingered in my mind, trying to slither down all sorts of rabbit holes I didn’t want to contemplate. In the human world, it would be weird that I was still living with my parents and had no plans to ever be on my own, but I was a wolf. I had pack.

That made it normal… right?

“Here’s your cake,” I said when the furor in my head became too much. And as usual, Ginna’s wide, shining grin made me warm, especially when I noticed that she’d switched her fang gem to a Hello Kitty one. I personally always kept my canines human unless I was in my animal form, but Ginna had never felt the need to hide that part of herself. From what I understood, most humans thought she’d gotten a cosmetic procedure to give her vamp fangs.

“Ugh, you’re such a darling! You spoil me, sissy. One of these days you gotta let me fly you up to NYC and we’ll hit the town! Spa days, my gym, the nightlife! All of it! And those city boys would love a country girl like you. City girls, too, in case you’ve aged into that.”

“I have not,” I said with a chuckle. Women were beautiful, and I often found myself wishing I could look like others, but I never felt that same titillation I got in the presence of a very intriguing man.

Then again, I hadn’t even felt that for a man lately. Somehow, without me noticing, my life had fallen into a routine that was work-home-monthly pack run-then work again. When had that happened? I’d had a social life once… hadn’t I?

“That’s fine. But seriously, send me your schedule, and let’s do this.”

“Yes, let’s,” I agreed.

It was safe to agree because Ginna, with all her chaotic magnetism, would inevitably forget by the time she got home. She’d throw herself into her next adventure, which would keep her occupied for at least three months. I’d long since learned not to take it personally, and if I was being honest, the whole idea intimidated me. The farthest I’d been away from home and pack was my high school marching band trip to NYC to see a play on Broadway.

Was… was I a fuddy-duddy? I was only thirty!

More thoughts crowded into my mind, turning the orderly queue of my stream of consciousness into a standing-room-only throng of very angry patrons. It was entirely too occupying, and I didn’t even realize I was handing out slices of cake to everyone who walked by until one of my aunties cleared her throat.

I blinked at her, coming back to reality and recognizing the face but blanking on the name. Olivia-Three… I was pretty sure. Sometimes it was hard to remember and I didn’t know if that was down to my memory fraying at the edges or the fact that a lot of us were a bit too similar.

“Aren’t you going to have a piece, cara?”

“Oh yeah, of course!” I answered quickly, smiling brightly like a good host was supposed to.

“Well, I hope you put it aside then.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries at all, auntie!” The words came out of my mouth before I fully understood what she meant, and it wasn’t until she was happily tottering away with her slice that my hearing slotted into its position. Whipping around, I looked at the massive sheet cake that had taken four people to carry. There were no slices left.

None.

Not a one.

In fact, all that was left was a sliver from when I’d cut a slice a bit too wonky.

“How did that happen?” I gasped involuntarily. I’d made sure there were about three dozen slices set to the side, and I knew I didn’t go through all of them.

So had people been walking up behind me and helping themselves until there was none left for the birthday girl?

What the f⁠—