“The chances of her showing up are slim to none.”
Duncan had known Grant would argue with him. He settled into his seat and ignored the food on his plate. “That’s bullshit and you know it. The stories say that a werewolf is fifty times more likely to meet his mate during the amber moon. How can we pass up that chance?”
“I don’t know, man.”
Duncan shot Lance a hard look. “Come on, cuz. Either fish or cut bait. We sure as hell haven’t done any good finding her so far. How long are you two willing to wait? It’s either take a chance with the moon or send one of us out of town to hunt for her. Which of you two wants to leave?”
Neither one of them responded. They’d talked about it before, but they each loved their home and didn’t want to spend any time away. Even if they went in search of their mate, there was no way to predict if they’d find her.
That was the way of it. Every werewolf had an intended mate, a mate he’d recognize by the irresistible attraction that would warp to life once he met her. Oftentimes, especially if she was a shifter, she’d feel the overpowering connection, too. Human females could feel the connection, but that wasn’t a guarantee. Most did, but every once in a while the human female would ignore the sensation or be too terrified at the idea of loving a shifter that she’d resist the pull.
If a werewolf was lucky, that one special lady would also have the bond with his partners. What if that didn’t happen with his cousin and Grant? Duncan didn’t even want to think about that. He, Lance, and Grant had decided long ago that they wanted one woman to share. To have their dream dashed just wasn’t anything he could live with.
“You know we don’t want to leave any more than you do. But it may come to that. When it does, we draw straws. Short stick goes on the road.” Grant shoved a bite of his raw steak into his mouth then sighed. “Damn, but that’s good.”
Duncan looked to Lance, unwilling to let Grant change the subject. Yet he could tell by his cousin’s expression that it was going to be one of those times. He loved his cousin like a brother, but sometimes Lance tried to straddle the fence during arguments.
“Look, guys, you’re both right. We probably won’t meet her during the amber moon, which means we’ve lost nothing by having a little fun.” Lance kept his attention on his plate. “I guess what I’m saying is, where’s the harm? Still, either way, it’d be a shame to screw anything up.”
Grant clutched his fork, his meat halfway to his mouth. “So you two want to have fun with any random woman, regardless of the possible consequences. Is that what you’re thinking? If we’re just going to go crazy and fuck anything on two legs, then why the hell have we held back for the past year?”
Grant was referring to an agreement they’d made almost a year ago to the day. Since they were waiting for their mate, they’d agreed to refrain from casual sex with any woman.
“Damn it, Grant. Loosen up.” Duncan centered his efforts back on Lance. He’d force his cousin to take one side of the other. Preferably his side. “Lance, quit playing diplomat and help me out. Tell me you’re not saying we should stay home and drink ourselves into passing out so we won’t go out.”
“No.” Lance glanced around the room. “I’ve heard that getting passed out drunk won’t help. Of course, the last amber moon was a long time ago, so who knows how reliable the information is?”
It seemed Lance was still straddling the damn fence. He had to try a different tactic if he was going to get anywhere.
“We could go into Dallas.” Duncan didn’t want to travel for that special night, but it was better than the alternative. Their mate might be living there. At least it was worth a try. At least it was doing something.
“And risk shifting in the middle of the Dallas club scene?” Grant snatched the chunk of steak off his fork then speared another piece. “Do you want to be the one to out werewolves to the general population?”
“Come on, man. Don’t screw this up. It’s a gift from the heavens.”
Okay. So maybe that was taking it a bit too far. Judging by their faces, they think so, too.
“Holing up at your ranch won’t help.” Milly paused as she strolled around the room to freshen cups of coffee. “Unless, of course, you get someone to chain you down in your cellar. Even then, you might end up tearing off a leg or an arm to get out.”
“So what you’re saying is that we don’t have a choice.” Duncan didn’t like going down that path, but if it helped his cause, then so be it.