Page 25 of Wrong Number, Right Cougar

“We owe you more than sandwiches.” I wasn’t sure what because the amount of money I could give them would be insulting. As much as we’d worked on budgeting for this place, we constantly found more and more supplies that needed buying.

“Yeah, you owe us a vacation at this resort.” He wrapped his arm around Peter. They weren’t mates, but I suspected they were more than friends.

I thought about his suggestion. Obviously, it was a yes. But it was so much more than that. They would be some of our first customers. Sure, they weren’t paid guests—but they wanted to be here and that felt amazing.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

My mate was out on the deck looking for loose nails or screws. There technically shouldn’t have been any nails, but it wasn’t the most well-designed structure, and we didn’t have the money to fully replace it yet.

With inspection only three days away, the tedious task of making sure they didn’t find anything sticking up was important, because not only were they checking on permit execution, but they were also licensing us for hospitality occupancy. If we passed, we’d finally be allowed to reopen the place almost right away.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure how Old Man Blaze managed all those years without getting shut down, given how it was barely kept up and mostly to shifter standards—not human code. Probably because the town was small and the inspector, Joe, was also the mailman and the bartender at Oars. Gotta love small towns.

“How’s it going?” I squatted down and gave him a kiss.

“It looks great. I only found two this round.”

This round because it was one of many. We decided that until we didn’t find any, we’d keep going. According to Stan, the inspector once cut his foot on a nail, and that was that. He became the nail inspector. Why was he barefoot? I didn’t know. I didn’t ask, and it didn’t matter. All that did was that we got this place where it needed to be.

“My cousin and I are gonna go make sure all the outlet covers are going to meet code.”

Another stupid thing to worry about. Why did it matter what kind of outlet covers we had? They were fifty-cent products and really didn’t have much to do with anything. But according to the list we were given, they mattered, and there were a ton of them here.

“Go have fun with that.”

And that was how the day went. We did all the little menial tasks we knew needed to get done. There were a couple of larger projects that still had to be completed—making the beds for the cabins, hanging curtains, that sort of thing. Just the silly stuff that mattered for getting our hospitality license in line. But all that had to wait for the paint to dry, which made today perfect for all this minutiae.

It wasn’t even dinner time when my cousin’s friends—who I now called the Miracle Painters—were completely done, and we all decided to call it a day, grabbing sandwich fixings and heading down to the lake for a picnic and to swim.

And for those of us with fur, to let our fur out.

I wasn’t sure how my mate was going to handle shifters that weren’t me and were different animals, but he was the one who suggested this. He wanted to know that, as a human, he could run a place that catered to shifters without making them uncomfortable.

I had to give him credit. It wasn’t something I would’ve even thought about—but he had. And then he wanted to do something about it.

“These are the best sandwiches ever.” Peter fell back onto the grass, holding his stomach. “I’m moving in here.”

“Says the guy who can’t go a Friday night without hitting the clubs,” my cousin jabbed.

“That’s because clubs are awesome.”

“Yeah, I’ll take your word for it,” I teased. I didn’t see what was fun about being jammed together with a bunch of other people, listening to music that was too loud for even shifters to hear conversations, and dealing with drunken humans. But hey—everybody deserved their fun. I would take mine here by the lake with people I cared about.

“Are you swimming with us?” Thorn stood up and pulled his shirt off, leaving him in only his shorts. I’d have preferred he wore nothing—but not in front of the others. That view was for me and me alone.

“I… I could swim.” Peter started to get undressed, and my mate kept his eyes on me, waiting for me to do the same, something I could never deny him.

And when I was done taking my fur, our bear, cougar, and koala friends were ready to go.

“Fair warning,” Frank had said before his shift, “koalas look terrifying when they’re wet.”

“Yeah, okay.” My mate grinned. “I’ll take your word?—”

Little did he know, but I was already in my fur and hadn’t been able to warn him. He’d learn soon enough.

I bolted toward the lake and jumped in with a splash, my mate following right behind me.

The koala took his sweet time before coming in, and when he did, he dove straight under and popped up—and my mate began to cackle. Not the reaction I’d been expecting.

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