Page 55 of Wag More Bark Less

My dog dropped to the floor, groaning dramatically.

When all my layers aside from a pair of coral panties were shed, I moved around the bed to lift the dress by its corset. Or, what remained of it. Even before I stepped into the garment, I noticed the warped boning. Because it wasn’t enough that the fabric was slaughtered. Luanne had to change the actual shape of the dress too.

I tugged it up slowly, wincing every time one of the snags caught.

Oddly enough, the one part of the dress left intact was the zipper. I had to suck in my stomach and hold my breath, but I managed to pull it all the way to the top, just below my shoulder blades. I’d picked this A-line gown specifically so I could show off my lone tattoo—another reason I didn’t want Luanne to see it until it was too late to protest.

I moved to the full-length mirror beside the closet and instantly started to bawl.

It was beyond hideous.

“I look like the bride of Frankenstein,” I sobbed, dropping to the floor.

Ellie rushed over, crawling into my lap and pressing her body against my chest. She tucked her head in the crook of my neck, and I held her tight, crying uncontrollably. When I started to hyperventilate, she licked my cheek several times.

I focused on breathing slower, except . . . there was no air getting in.

“Shit. I can’t—I can’t breathe.” The fucking dress was suffocating me. I reached behind my back, yanking at the zipper. But it was stuck. Of course it was. “Ellie. Scissors. Knife. Sharp,” I pleaded, quite certain my dog didn’t know the command for such things.

I tried to leave the room, but the hoop skirt caught on the doorframe. I didn’t have the strength to shove myself through it. Ellie sprinted out of the room just as my vision faded to gray.

If I die in this damn dress, I’m haunting Luanne and her pathetic son.

If I survived, I vowed to never put on another wedding dress again.

TWENTY

LUKE

I stood in my backyard, Foo Fighters blasting from my earbuds, hands propped on my rake, as the familiar neighborhood squirrel prepared to launch himself from the fence onto Mrs. Granger’s bird feeder for the third time. He didn’t give two shits that I was watching him from ten feet away. I couldn’t decide if it was sheer determination or just a hefty amount of audacity.

The furry critter launched himself and landed on top of the bird feeder, avoiding not only the slippery pole but the spinning device attached to the tray only he was heavy enough to set off.

“Fucking impressive,” I murmured. If he made it this far, who was I to spoil his fun?

Holding on to the top with his back feet, he stretched the length of the cylinder toward the seeds. His little paws were nearly there when the faint sound of barking caught my attention.

The squirrel froze, then slipped. The little guy grabbed the tray, but of course that set off the spinner. He held on as long as he could, but within seconds, he flew backward and landed in Mrs. Granger’s pumpkin patch that had all but taken over her vegetable garden.

I tugged an earbud free and turned to find Ellie on the deck, barking repeatedly. And Maggie said her dog didn’t care about squirrels.

“Ellie, c’mon. He’s not harming anyone.”

She barked louder and faster, and I had half a mind to march up the deck to tell Maggie to get her dog inside before the neighbors got annoyed. I hesitated, though. It wasn’t Ellie I was mad at. Hell, it wasn’t even Miss Mayhem.

It was me.

That kiss fucking unraveled me, and I didn’t want to pick apart what that might mean. I thought if I put distance between us and reinforced the layers of ice I kept solidly around my heart, I could reset my brain. Make it forget that kiss ever happened. And if that didn’t work, I hoped being cold would make Maggie steer clear of me until I got my head on straight.

But at the rate things were going, that wouldn’t happen until long after she drove out of town for good.

These past couple of days had been nothing short of torture. No one warned me she’d be spending her days on her laptop at the Legion Hall, helping half our veteran population at the same time I was scheduled to lead the parade float detail.

How the hell was I supposed to focus when I kept catching glimpses of her in the background, hearing her laugh, and watching the grouchiest of the old vets break a smile minutes after they bitched and moaned about computers because she calmly talked them through the process in a language they clearly understood? Hell, most of them gave her a hug before they left. Knowing these men as I did, I wouldn’t have believed it for a second if I hadn’t witnessed it myself.

Ellie scrambled down the deck steps, despite the gate at the top of the staircase being closed a minute ago—at least, I swore it was closed—and bolted in my direction, her incessant barking ratcheting up another notch.

I stepped to the side, expecting her to charge the fence. I was debating whether she could jump it when she instead skidded to a stop right at my feet. She barked sharply at me.