Dire Wolf Mates - Chapter 54: Chapter 54

“Seriously, Ari, you gonna split the tomahawk steak with me?” he asked.
“No, you ate almost all of it last time, and I was starving.”
“You don’t look like you’re starving,” he muttered, and she kicked him under the table.
The band was on break, and someone put a loud dance song on. Ariella didn’t mind, but she knew George hated just about anything other than rock music. She grinned and shook her head, bopping to the beat.
“Get your own dinner, dork face,” she replied.
"Fine.”
The server returned for their entrée orders, and Ariella tried to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. She wondered if Brock was even in the kitchen tonight. So far, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the blond giant. George was rambling on about something, but she was too busy wallowing in self misery to pay any attention.
Stop it.
"Hello? Earth to Ari. I am talking to you. Why are we here?”
“You’re the one who followed me, Georgie Porgie,” she swallowed down another mouthful of the sumptuous white wine she’d ordered with her appetizer.
“I told you I had to drop off some legal forms to Leo, and Sheila is always my best chance of pinning that man down. You know how he is.”
“Yes, Georgie, I know,” she replied and bit back her laughter at her brother’s annoyed expression.
It was always fun teasing her baby bro. Ari sighed and pushed her now empty plate towards the center of the table. The appetizer had been sublime. She might be pissed at Brock, but he was one hell of a chef. She continued to think so as the next course was served.
“Gimme a bite,” George whined, sticking his fork in her swordfish steak.
“There’s three pounds of Argentinian beef on your plate, George, hands off my fish,” she snapped at him.
Seafood was her weakness, and nothing was better than a perfectly fried Atlantic cod. The dish was almost perfect. Only one thing could make it better. Some of that good quality sustainably harvested seafood that only Eat Well Live Proud could deliver.
If only she could convince him to switch all his fish to their new eco-friendly seafood line. It was of a much better grade than what he was serving now, and this was good stuff. But she was certain she could do better for Brock, er, that was, for the restaurant. Not the man. He was not hers to do anything for. Or to.
Gulp.
What?
“I bet this place could take number one in Blue Valley Monthly’s Top Ten Eateries,” George said, and he wasn’t wrong.
The list was posted every month like clockwork in print and on the monthly magazine’s website. Who didn’t want that kind of free advertising? She shook her head and took another sip of wine, emptying the glass as she contemplated the problem.
Her own palate was highly developed and where she appreciated the seasoning and superb technique Brock used to create his dishes, the fact was this was not the best seafood available, and really, why shouldn’t it be?
Taste buds still tingling with delight, Ari eyed her brother’s food and, just because she could, she reached over and snagged George’s still untouched side dish. She scooted it a bit closer to her side of the table, scooping the delicious creamed spinach into her mouth and moaning triumphantly at the wonderful texture and flavors.
George simply rolled his eyes and pushed it all the way in front of her.
“Go ahead, Ari. I told you, I didn’t want the creamed spinach when you ordered it,” he grumbled.
Ariella didn’t want to overdo it, but one more bite wouldn’t hurt. The creamy goodness had a hint of lemon zest on top. So good, it actually made her forget it was an actual vegetable dish.
“Well, thanks for inviting me, sis. But next time, maybe we do lunch instead,” George frowned as the band came back on stage. They were tuning their instruments, and the lead singer started getting the audience hyped up with some banter.
Ariella looked on and grinned. Things were gonna be fun tonight. She could already feel it sizzling in the air, like magic.
“I mean, Brock is a talented chef, but this place is so, so⁠—”
“Fun?” she supplied and giggled at her stick-in-the-mud sibling’s expense. “Georgie, you need to let your hair down.”
He wasn’t the only one. Her inner Lioness purred happily, and she patted her now full tummy with a smile on her lips. It was a fact, her would-be mate was a genius.
“Oh crap! Ari, we should go now. Mom is here,” George was half turned in his chair and squinting at where a loud ruckus sounded out from across the bar.
Sure enough, Patricia Golden, their own mother, with her silver streaked hair and a pair of pleather pants that should be deemed illegal painted on her butt, was the cause of it.
It was eight o’clock on a Saturday night, and the band was just right, playing the kind of rock and roll music that made you want to dance and fuck and fight maybe all at the same time to the already hyped up crowd. New Jersey was a wonderful melting pot of human and supernatural cultures, and Serious Moonlight attracted them all.
Of course. It made perfect sense. Why wouldn’t their mother be in the middle of all this? Ariella grinned in her mother’s direction.
“I know,” she answered George. “I invited her.”
Ariella laughed when her brother groaned and held his head as if it was the worst thing in the world to happen. She had three older sisters, and one baby bro, but out of all of them, Ariella was the only one who thought of their mother as her BFF.
Their mom could be quite the handful. Of course, her recent flirtation with the Lion King of their Pride had started several rumors that the two were about to get hitched. But far as Ariella knew, the older, but still hot, Lioness was decidedly ringless.
Good thing, or not? The jury was still out on that one.
Hence, the reason she’d joined her daughter and son for a couple of rounds of tequila shots, and some good old fashioned hell raising, like only those of the Big Cat persuasion could really appreciate. Ari was just depressed enough to want that kind of trouble. After all, things were going nowhere and fast with Brock.
She stood up and looked at her brother with narrowed eyes. It was the kind of look she’d given him as a cub just before she’d pinned his ass to the floor.
“What?” he asked.
Increasing the power of her stare, she almost gave the game away by grinning when he squeaked. Georgie never could best her in that game. Getting the message, he reached for his wallet and dropped two bills on the table.
Having practically licked her plate clean, she purposely left half of George’s on the plain white ceramic dish. Brock might be able to ignore her, but if there was one thing that really miffed the big buff doggy, it was when someone didn’t finish their food.
Well, tough furballs!
She walked away from the table and left her baby bro to follow, joining their mother with a quick hug and kiss.
“Hey kids! Mama’s on a roll,” she hooted and pointed to the row of lovely golden shots waiting for them.
The fabulously redheaded Sheila Rand-Crowley smirked as she set a shaker of salt and some sliced limes next to the little shot glasses all lined up like soldiers going off to battle. Ariella supposed they were in a way.
“Hello ladies, and George,” Sheila greeted them with a wink.
Ari nodded back. She liked their new princess. A lot. Sheila might be a Dire Wolf Shifter, but she’d married the crowned prince of the Lion Pride and was now officially one of her kin seeing as how Ari was Leo’s honorary cousin and all.
“Um, Mom, I don’t think⁠—”
“Don’t think, Georgie, just have a shot,” Patricia Golden said and pressed the small glass against her youngest cub’s lips until he had no choice but to swallow the fiery liquid.
Typically, alcohol had little to no effect on Shifters unless—and that was a big UNLESS—it was taken in rapid succession or mixed with one of the handful of herbs whose chemical makeup would render the Shifter’s naturally enhanced metabolism nil.
Like Magibrew—which was recently banned from this establishment. There were other things that could behave in a similar fashion. Highly concentrated catnip drops could produce the same effect. They were sometimes used to help Lionesses and other feline Shifters during labor, to ease the birthing of one or several cubs. She’d made her mother promise never to trick her into taking that stuff again, so she was not worried.
A mistake, Ariella realized after she swallowed down her first shot, and noted a very familiar and very distinct bitter flavor. Dang it all to heck, it was catnip!
Having been dosed a time or two by her mother and sisters over the years, Ariella knew her stuff. Never George, though. Her baby bro was too much of a stick in the mud for those kinds of shenanigans.
Fucking hell.
The herb was fast-acting when concentrated like this, and her mother would have gotten some very hard to find, medical grade stuff. Her inner Lioness’ eyes dilated, and Ariella felt as if her blood was boiling. Confound it, that woman did it again! Her mother had played her.
And here of all the places! She had only minutes before she could become completely uninhibited. And who knew what would happen then? Ariella closed her eyes and turned to confront the woman who’d given birth to her.
“Mom! Did you put catnip in my shot?”
Ariella stomped her foot for affect but her mother waved a manicured hand in her face and made shushing noises.
“Shush up, baby, the band is playing!”
She should have suspected when she’d told her mother the trouble she’d been having with Brock that the woman would resort to some sort of wild extremes to help Ari get his attention.
Prrrr. Good Mama.
Shut up!
She shook her head, trying to ignore her feline and tried to think back to what she’d said to make Patricia lose her dang mind. Ugh. It must have been when she’d confessed to her mother, she suspected Brock was her fated mate. But in her defense, she only expected the woman to just give her some motherly advice or bake cookies or something. She should’ve known better.
Sigh.
Her mom used to pull stunts like this all the time, but after months of dating King Donovan, Ari thought she’d settled down. Something must’ve happened between them. Rumors of weddings aside, there must be a reason her mother was acting this way. Ariella’s eyes flashed at the woman, who was gyrating like mad in her pleather pants.
My eyes!
“I am not done talkin’ to you, Mom. And for fuck’s sake, stop doing that before you bust a seam again!”
“I don’t mind givin’ them a show, baby girl. If they can’t stand the heat, they know what to do!”
Patricia winked and sashayed away, leaving Ariella to follow. A wave of dizziness hit her, and Ari closed her eyes as the effects of the catnip dosed alcohol made themselves known. Not that she was normally a tight ass. Well, not exactly, but Ariella had been working harder than ever lately. Probably had something to do with the fact her mate didn’t want her. Just thinking about it made her sad beyond measure, and sad was not how she wanted to feel.
Dance, purred her she-Cat.
The suggestion sounded good to her. She’d often envied normals their ability to have a drink and simply unwind. The problem with her was her pesky supernatural ability to metabolize alcohol. Heck, she’d need a few bottles to even get a buzz.
Catnip laced booze fixed that. Ariella grinned. She had some liquid courage in her now. Heck yeah, she should dance. Sure, her mom’s way of bonding with her cubs was unorthodox, but it was fun, and mostly harmless.
Ariella’s limbs felt loose as she brought her hands to her face. She let her cool fingers brush the warm skin of her cheeks and neck, tying back her mane of curly dark hair. She was feeling warmer by the second.
Ari searched the room with half-lidded eyes, head bobbing to the music. Maybe she should embrace this new, uninhibited feeling as a gift from her mother. Yeah. She could do that. Have a little harmless fun, right? After all, she was an unattached female, and she was not getting any younger.
“You feeling alright, Ari?” Sheila interrupted her thoughts.
Ari turned to her cousin-in-law, noting the red eyebrows that seemed to disappear into her hairline as Ariella wobbled a little on her feet.