Moonlight Journey_A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance by K. R. Alexander

Author:K. R. Alexander [Alexander, K. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Six Wolves Press
Published: 2018-11-26T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

We were still waiting by the time the others arrived and I issued a temporary ice cream ban so no one started posturing.

“There’s plenty. But let’s get the chicken first and get out of here. Then we can divide everything up.”

They finally called our order as the buckets began appearing on the counter and everyone—in an orderly fashion—claimed one. Isaac took a handful of paper napkins. Among a few cries of outrage that the chicken buckets were not, in fact, full, I grabbed more and hustled the others along. I asked for extra empty containers and spoons, then carried the plastic bags with the ice cream and sides while everyone else had a precious, if misleading, twelve-piece chicken bucket held to their chests.

We didn’t bother returning to the rooms, as I’d foolishly thought we would. They carried dinner only as far as the back of the Hampton Inn parking lot. Here they could sit on the curb, far from one another, with a wide open view of the lot and nothing but a scrub field at their backs.

I almost asked Isaac for a key card and number to take myself in. I knew better, though. My own craving for an actual chair and screened windows, running water, and air conditioning away from a scorching setting sun and dumpsters and insects was not worth disturbing everyone’s dinner by my retreat.

I sat on the curb like the rest, shading the ice cream bag and eating admittedly welcome mashed potatoes, gravy, and coleslaw after all the room temperature trail snacks. And tried not to listen.

I had to speak up when I heard the snapping bones. Like a bunch of beavers chewing their way through dinner.

“Hey,” I addressed Kage and Jason, nearest at my right, in a voice to carry to all. “These are not raw bones or marrow bones.”

Zar and Jason glanced at me. No one else even bothered to look up. At least the snapping mostly subsided while they stripped the meat as quickly as cartoon characters, dropping bones and maybe the stray bit of cartilage back in the buckets, or simply scattering on the ground in most cases.

A couple minutes later, seventy-one pieces of fried chicken had magically turned to bones and Zar was sitting next to me with the offer of the seventy-second.

“Don’t you want chicken?” He looked at my project of dividing up the potatoes and gravy with a biscuit each and some slaw, but did not comment or reach for anything.

“Thank you, Zar. Afters for you.” I traded him one of the prepared potato desserts and Zar remained beside me to eat.

This drew a crowd, everyone on their feet to converge on the potato servings, but I held up a hand.

“Could you please clean up? Bones in buckets, buckets in dumpster. Then afters.”

“Zar didn’t—” Kage started, always extra fast to notice injustice.

“Zar made tidy work of his bones in the first place.”

I went on eating, now joined by the drumstick, then passed out the divided servings with a biscuit on top of each.

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