“Practice saying it. Jim won. Jim won. Jim won.”
His friend snickered, pushing one pile to the side as he dropped a wink at Lillie. “Sometimes my friend has delusions of grandeur.”
“Only sometimes?” Lillie deadpanned, laughing as Jim’s fingers danced on her waist, tickling her.
Damon’s laugh echoed in the room. “I like you.” He motioned to Jim. “Shut up and change.” He slipped off his jacket and shirt, reaching into his pile for a sky-blue bundle of fabric.
Lillie smiled. It wasn’t that she considered Damon particularly vain, but he’d purchased a shirt in a colour exactly matching his eyes. Jim noticed as well, and they exchanged amused glances.
She peeked at the clothing Jim was sorting through, but instead of dark brown there was a black T-shirt.
“Do I get to keep my underwear?” Jim jibed.
A low chuckle escaped Damon. “We’re not discussing boxers versus briefs versus commando. We had that conversation when we were twelve. Once a lifetime is enough.”
A couple of wolves in their animal form trotted past as the guys changed. Lillie leaned back on a nearby table and didn’t bother to hide her admiration.
By shifter standards, going down to skin wasn’t considered dirty. They needed to be naked when they shifted. That didn’t lower her appreciation for the eye candy on display. Both of them, Damon’s leaner wolf physique, Jim’s bulkier overall mass.
Damon finally pulled on his jacket and held out his arms, rotating slowly. “So, what do you think?”
Faded jeans, that killer T-shirt nicely showcasing the muscles he’d forced the material over, all of it topped with a leather jacket that had a massive wolf head on the back and Leader of the Pack emblazoned over it.
Lillie nodded her approval. “I like.”
Jim flipped his jacket over, and Lillie left her perch to peek around him, clinging to his arms. His logo was an enormous bear head, definitely a grizzly, and the banner said Don’t Miss The Branch.
She puzzled for a moment before the children’s song popped into her head, threatening to become an unending earworm.
God, that was hysterical.
“I love it.”
Jim grunted lightly. “At least the bastard didn’t use teddy bears like he did before.”
“I swear the guy at the print shop had the biggest trouble understanding what I wanted. And he wanted me to give you his name.”
A frown crossed Jim’s face. “Why?”
Damon cleared his throat. “He says he loves bears.”
“He didn’t know we were shifters, did he?” Jim’s eyes widened with understanding the same moment it hit Lillie.
Oh my. “You’re not hairy enough to be that kind of bear.”
Oops.
Lillie covered her mouth with her hand even as Damon lost his serious expression and burst into peals of laughter.
Jim shook his head. “Glad I could be of entertainment. Yeah, not enough fur in human form, and I don’t swing that way, so the poor guy will have to keep on dreaming.”
His friend wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I tell you, keeping a straight face was damn hard.”
“I bet it destroyed you,” Jim drawled.
“I love both your outfits, and you look great,” Lillie offered.
Jim nodded his agreement. “I don’t know who you killed to get the outfits, but I’m keeping mine. We only need bikes to complete the set.”
“Now that you mention it…” Damon looked her over carefully, nodding as she pulled on her leather jacket. “I think we’re ready.”
He led them out the nearby exit door to where two beautiful motorcycles stood waiting.
“Sweet.” Lillie walked around them, running her hand over the shiny metal and soft black leather. “Harleys?”
“Mine is,” Damon confirmed, patting one of the bikes. He pointed at the other one that Jim was already throwing a leg over. “That’s a Ducati. Jim has more expensive tastes than I do. I had to splurge for the fancy Italian job for him.”
“My friend, I forgive you for every sin you’ve ever committed against me.” Jim ran his hands over the handlebars, shaking his head slightly as he admired the bike. “Well, except for the incident when we were seven. That one I will hate you for until my dying day.”
Damon pulled a helmet off his bike, pointing to the back of Jim’s. “I don’t know why you insist that was my fault. Bears swim, wolves swim. How was I supposed to know not all honey badgers like to swim?”
“You weren’t the one she climbed on top of,” Jim growled.
Lillie was thrilled to see a helmet for her as well, but she waited until Jim handed it to her, suddenly apprehensive to come between the two old friends. “I don’t have to join you. This is something special for you and—”
“Put on your helmet and get your butt on the bike,” Jim ordered. Then his stern expression softened. “As long as you’re comfortable. You’re not afraid, are you?”
She flushed slightly at exactly how comfortable she was. “Not if you’re driving.”