“I'll go with you to the gala."
He smiled over his newspaper. “Good."
“No funny stuff."
“Funny stuff?" he said, folding the newspaper and setting it on his lap.
“No funny stuff. I'm just going to the gala and that's it."
“Okay, no funny stuff." He paused. “Define funny stuff?"
“You know what I'm talking about," she said.
He was being obtuse and maybe he thought he was being cute.
“I just want to be sure I know what's not going to happen after the gala. Can't blame a guy for being sure. I might want to go out for a drink afterward or to a party. Is that funny stuff?"
“No, that's not funny stuff."
He folded his hands on his lap. “Then define funny stuff."
She cleared her throat and waved a hand. Why was she suddenly so shy to talk about s*x? In her wolf world, it was just someth
