Free Blood and Chocolate by Annette Curtis Klause

books.
    â€œThat’s okay,” she said. “I only wondered. My great-aunt uses that deck.” It was easier to call Persia Devereux that than to explain. A pack was like family, and all older members were aunts and uncles. “She’s very good.”
    â€œCool. Your aunt reads Tarot. What other neat stuff does your family do?”
    Wouldn’t you like to know?
she thought.
    â€œThat’s a wicked smile.” He put his arms around her. “Are you getting ideas now I’ve got you in my den of iniquity?”
    Den.
She liked his choice of words. “And what ideas would I be getting?”
    â€œSomething like this.” His lips met hers, and his hand slid up to cup her left breast gently. She put her own hand over his and made him squeeze harder as her tongue snaked into his mouth. Why did he always have to be so damn polite?
    He moaned.
That’s better,
she thought.
Loosen up, boy.
    â€œDessert time!” Ashley’s voice echoed up the stairwell.
    â€œOh, man.” Aiden kissed her neck. “Better go, or she’ll come and get us.” His voice was husky. Vivian loved hearing him sound that way. “You go on down,” he said, releasing her. “I’ve got to do a couple of things.”
    Yeah, like pour a glass of cold water down your shorts,
she thought, and grinned. “See you soon,” she whispered, and slinked out in a way that she knew would keep him up there a few extra minutes.
    After dessert, Vivian excused herself. “I need to use the bathroom,” she explained.
    â€œAiden, show Vivian the rest room in the basement, will you, so she doesn’t have to go traipsing upstairs again,” Mrs. Teague said.
    To keep me away from his bedroom, you mean,
Vivian thought. When Vivian had come downstairs, Mrs. Teague had stared at her as if Aiden had left handprints all over her dress.
    Aiden took Vivian through a door into a workroom. Guns hung on the wall and a workbench was scattered with parts and tools.
    â€œDad’s hobby,” Aiden explained. “He collects and repairs antique guns.”
    Vivian was fascinated. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to some equipment on the bench.
    â€œHe makes his own bullets for some of them,” Aiden said.
    â€œIsn’t that hard?”
    Aiden shook his head. “No. He taught me.”
    Vivian was surprised. “I wouldn’t think you were into guns.”
    â€œI’m not. That was a long time ago. He used to take me out hunting,” Aiden said. “You know, like a ‘real American’ father and son are supposed to do. I hated it. There should be more to being with your father than going out and killing something together.”
    Vivian didn’t speak. She’d give anything to be able to go out and kill something with her father again. This made her feel sadly distant from Aiden. She took his hand from her waist. “I’ll meet you back outside,” she said.
    â€œOh, yeah. The bathroom. Over there.” He pointed to a door near the stairs.
    Coming out of the bathroom, Vivian heard voices upstairs from the direction of the kitchen.
    â€œShe seems rather sophisticated for Aiden, don’t you think?” said Mrs. Teague.
    â€œShe does seem mature.” Vivian could hear the innuendo in Mr. Teague’s voice. It made her skin crawl.
    â€œYou watch yourself.” Mrs. Teague didn’t sound amused. “You’d better have a talk with that boy.”
    Vivian heard the sound of a screen door closing.
Have a talk with him about what?
she wondered. What had she done wrong? Why did Mrs. Teague not want a mate for her son?
    The rest of the visit was ruined for Vivian.
    â€œYour parents don’t like me,” she said on the way home.
    â€œThat’s a good sign,” Aiden said. “They don’t like any of the people I care for.”
    But it wasn’t only his parents.
    Vivian took a deep breath.