Pawfully Wedded
Read the Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
GARBAGE
The Flamethrower
Friday morning, while the coffee dripped into the pot, the Flamethrower opened the cabinet under the kitchen sink and pulled out the bag of garbage. Until recently, the garbage had been filled with carrot tops, apple cores, and wilted lettuce, evidencing a woman’s futile attempts to impose a healthy diet on her household. These days, though, the bags mostly contained fast-food wrappers or frozen pizza roll boxes. The blue recycling bin had undergone a similar transformation. The bin had once housed empty bottles of cheap grocery-store chardonnay and crushed Budweiser cans, but now it held empty bottles of expensive imported beer. He worked hard. He deserved the good stuff. And he was done pinching pennies to save for a future that had become uncertain.
The recycling bin was only half full this morning, so he left it under the sink. He exited the kitchen into the garage, not bothering to put on a T-shirt to cover his bare chest. The cotton shorts he’d slept in covered his naughty bits. That was good enough for running the garbage to the curb. Besides, even though it was only a quarter past seven, it was already hotter than balls outside. Living in Texas had some benefits, but the weather damn sure wasn’t one of them.
After dropping the trash bag into the large rolling garbage can, he used his elbow to jab the button on the wall to raise the garage door. He walked toward the door as it rolled up, ducking under it to step out onto the driveway. Fughhhh …
Valerie, the bony, bubbly blonde who lived across the street, stood at her curb in skin-tight purple yoga pants and a matching tank top. As she positioned her garbage can, the rumble of the door caught her attention. She glanced up and spotted him in his driveway. “Howdy, neighbor!” she called. To his dismay, she sashayed across the street toward him, her voice dripping with false southern sweetness. “Hot enough for you?”
Early August in North Texas was too hot for Satan himself. The concrete was frying his feet, and he had to step off into the grass before responding. “Sure is.”
Valerie pursed her pink lips and tilted her head. “I haven’t seen your wife or son around lately. Everything okay?”
Nosy bitch. Even as she attempted to pry personal information out of him, her eyes flicked to his six-pack abs and firm pecs. The prying pissed him off, but he didn’t mind the ogling. He busted his ass at the gym five days a week, and he was proud to still look this good at forty-five. The woman’s own husband had a saggy gut that made him look six months pregnant. Maybe she’ll think of me the next time she screws him.
“We’re all doing great,” he lied. His wife and son were none of this busybody’s business. Besides, his wife would surely come to her senses soon and come back home so they could be a family again. He turned the subject to one he knew would get the woman off the subject of his marriage, even if it meant he’d be stuck listening to her yammer on for the next few minutes. “How are your girls? They ready for school to start up again?”
Sure enough, the woman straightened her head and beamed. “They sure are! Ainsley made the drill team. They’ve been practicing nonstop for the last two weeks to get ready for the first football game. She’s taken dance classes since she was five years old and puts the other girls to shame. Alexis signed up for all advanced placement classes—”
As Valerie rambled on, he smiled and nodded, feigning interest but tuning the woman out, the same way his son did when Ainsley and Alexis flirted with him. The girls made the game too easy, as simple to catch as a pop fly. He was proud his son preferred a chase, refusing to fall for any pretty face.
Finally, the woman stopped bragging long enough to take a breath. “Great to catch up!” he said before she could start up again. He left the garbage can at the curb and backed away at warp speed. “See ya!”
CHAPTER TWO
BRIDE TO BE
Fort Worth Police Officer Megan Luz
On a Saturday afternoon in early August, my former roommate and best human friend Frankie opened her front door. She gave me a smile as bright as her spiked blue hair and called over her shoulder to the ladies gathered in her living room. “The bride has arrived!”
She stepped back, welcoming me into her home along with Brigit, the oversized shepherd mix who was my work partner, packmate, and best furry friend. Surrounding me were dozens of gifts in pretty bags and wrapped boxes, as well as the women who’d bought the gifts for me. “Hi, everyone!”
A round of greetings and hugs were exchanged before Frankie led me to the recliner, which she’d festooned with what appeared to be a hundred yards of pristine white tulle. Zoe, Frankie’s calico cat, had claimed the seat and refused to relinquish it voluntarily. Frankie removed the stubborn cat and held out a hand, inviting me to take a seat. “Your throne, milady.”
Zoe cast me a disgusted glance over her shoulder and swished her tail before sauntering off. I sat down and smoothed the skirt of my ruffled white sundress. Meanwhile, Frankie picked up a silver-plated tray and flitted about, passing spinach-stuffed phyllo dough appetizers. “Take as many as you’d like. I made plenty.”
Brigit lay at my feet, her head up, keeping a keen eye on the tray of appetizers in case one should fall to the floor. The shepherd mix was large for her breed and as fluffy as a dog could be. She was as cunning as they came, too, smarter than most humans. We shared such an unbreakable bond now that it was hard for me to remember why I’d initially been so resistant to being partnered with the dog. What’s a little fur on your clothing compared to unconditional love?
Following Frankie with a stack of napkins was my younger sister Gabby. Like me, Gabby got her dark hair from our Mexican-American father and her freckles from our Irish-American mother. Our Catholic upbringing was courtesy of both cultures.
Behind the kitchen counter, Summer raised two glasses of bubbling orange liquid. “Who wants a mimosa?” Summer was one of my fellow female officers from the Fort Worth Police Department. With her sunny demeanor and bouncy blond curls, she lived up to her name. When several hands shot up, Summer filled each one with a drink.
I’d attracted unwanted attention as a child with my stutter and, as a result, didn’t generally like being the center of attention. But today, among good friends and family, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. The round diamond glittered from the ring on my left hand as I picked up the first gift bag, which was small, and striped silver and white. The card inside noted that the gift was from Detective Audrey Jackson, who perched on a barstool across the room. The dark-skinned, clever-minded detective had become an invaluable mentor, pulling me into her cases and showing me the ropes. I hoped to follow in her footsteps and make detective one day.
I fished out the tissue paper and reached inside the bag, pulling out a small box containing a wireless video doorbell. Leave it to someone in law enforcement to give a home security item as a gift. “What a great idea!”
The detective took the mimosa Summer offered her and readied it for a sip. “With all the burglars and porch pirates hitting houses around town, you can never be too careful.”
“So true,” Summer chirped as she handed a champagne flute to my mother. When Gabby reached for one, Summer held the glass up, out of reach. “Got some ID, kiddo?”
My auburn-haired mother wagged a reproving finger at Gabby, who had several more years before she’d turn twenty-one. I hoped she wouldn’t rush them. Adulting could be great, but it was a lot of responsibility. As much as I loved being a police officer, keeping my community safe and helping solve crimes, the magnitude of my duties and the violence I witnessed sometimes got to me, weighing on my mind and soul. But I wasn’t about to spoil this fun event by thinking about work.
I took the mimosa Summer handed me and held it up in toast. “To all of you. The best family and friends a bride could ever have!” I was beyond lucky to have such an extraordinary group of ladies in my life. Each was smart, supportive, and strong in her own way. Frankie had well-defined muscles from years of skating roller derby and working as a firefighter, while my mother had the fortitude to birth and raise five children.
We clinked glasses and I took a sip of the sweet drink, the bubbles tickling my throat as it went down. Setting my champagne flute on the coffee table, I moved on to the next gift. Frankie had bought me a cute ceramic chip and dip tray shaped like a sombrero. No sooner had I lifted the tray out of the box to show the others than Zoe slinked up and climbed into the box. “This tray is so festive! It’ll be perfect for serving tortilla chips and guacamole on our next game night.”
Mom motioned with her hand. “Open mine next. It’s the one in the little pink bag.”
Rather than force Zoe out of the box, I set the tray aside to be repacked later. I picked up the bag my mother had pointed out, removed the tissue, and peeked inside. All I could see was a tiny ball of red fabric. I pulled it out to discover it was a sexy see-through lace teddy. Zoe reached up from the box to swipe at the lace, and the group giggled as my cheeks flamed as red as the lingerie. “Mom!” I cried. “This is a bridal shower, not a bachelorette party!”
My fiancé’s mother, Lisa, grinned from her seat on an ottoman. “Your mom isn’t the only one to blame. I helped her pick out that nightie. We’re hoping for a grandchild or two.”
“Seth and I haven’t even made it down the aisle yet.” I stuffed the teddy back into the bag. “It’s much too soon to be thinking about kids.”
“Don’t think too long,” Lisa said wistfully. “I’ve got lost time to make up for.”
Lisa had given birth to Seth when she was only Gabby’s age, an unwed teenager unprepared to become a mother. Seth’s father had never been in the picture. Lisa had never told Seth who his father was, presumably because he’d wanted nothing to do with the son he’d fathered. After giving birth to Seth, Lisa had dropped out of high school. When she found being a teen mom too much to handle, she left Seth in the care of her parents and took off. While Lisa’s mother—Seth’s grandmother—had been kind and loving, she had died before her time. Seth spent much of his childhood living with a surly grandfather who’d suffered from grief and undiagnosed PTSD from the Vietnam War. Fortunately, the family had recently reunited and begun to heal from their wounds. Lisa had returned to Fort Worth, and Seth and his grandfather had begun to let go of their pain and resentment. They’d lost a lot of years but, with any luck, we’d all have many happy ones ahead of us. I had no doubt Lisa would be a wonderful grandmother someday. For the first time, it dawned on me that my children would have only one grandfather. I felt a little tug at my heartstrings. Forcing the thought from mind, I turned my attention back to the presents.
Summer’s gift was a beautiful crystal frame for a wedding photo, while two other friends had gone together to buy an espresso machine. With the odd hours Seth and I worked caffeine was a must. I held up the box for everyone to see. “This machine will get a lot of use.”
Another friend gave me two sets of hiking poles. I removed them from the package to give them a go. They were adjustable, lightweight but sturdy. I gave her a smile. “These will come in handy on the honeymoon.”
Seth and I planned to vacation in Utah after our wedding in late September. The timing would be ideal, after the summer crowds had gone but before the extreme winter weather set in. I couldn’t wait to see the rock formations in Arches National Park, the sandcastle-like hoodoos in Bryce Canyon, or the beautiful red cliffs and waterfalls in Zion. Besides the natural beauty, the remote areas sounded peaceful and relaxing, a great place to get away from it all and enjoy a romantic sojourn with a new spouse. Of course, Brigit would tag along with us. She worked as hard as I did and deserved some rest and relaxation. Seth’s dog Blast, too. Blast was trained to sniff out accelerants and explosives for the fire department’s bomb squad. The skilled dog had earned a vacation as well. Besides, Seth and I would miss our furry, four-footed partners if we didn’t take them with us. We’d both grown accustomed to having our dogs at our sides 24/7. To spend a week away from our canines was simply unthinkable.
When I finished opening my gifts and had exchanged dozens of hugs with the guests, Frankie circled again, this time with a platter of finger sandwiches. Although Brigit didn’t raise her head from the carpet, I noticed her nose twitch. No doubt she smelled the food coming closer and hoped to get her teeth on one of the sandwiches.
I tipped my champagne flute to down the remains of the mimosa and settled back in the chair, reveling in the moment. I hadn’t felt so happy, relaxed, and lighthearted in a long time. I had my wedding and honeymoon to look forward to, and no crime investigation weighing on my mind.
I should have known that carefree feeling wouldn’t last.
CHAPTER THREE
OOPSIE
K-9 Sergeant Brigit
Frankie approached with a tray piled high with sandwiches. With three-hundred million olfactory receptors in her nose compared to a human’s mere six million, Brigit could discern exactly what was on the plate. Whole-grain bread. Avocado. Tomatoes. Lettuce. The mock tuna salad made from mashed garbanzo beans, chopped celery, lemon juice, garlic salt, and eggless mayonnaise, one of Megan’s—and Brigit’s—favorites.
Until recently, Frankie and her calico cat Zoe had shared the home where Brigit lived with Megan. Seth and Blast had replaced Frankie when she’d moved out and taken her cat with her. Brigit didn’t miss the cat a bit. The useless beast had been arrogant and annoying, acting like she owned the place. Zoe sometimes stole Brigit’s spot in the sun, sprawling on the rug and soaking up the rays. She’d often sleep on Megan’s bed, too, not seeming to realize she was not part of their pack. She even drank out of Brigit’s water bowl! The only good thing she ever did was occasionally knock something off the kitchen counter that Brigit could snack on.
Speaking of snacks . . .
Megan reached her hand toward Frankie’s tray. Megan might share a bite with Brigit, but the dog couldn’t be entirely sure of her partner’s intentions and she wasn’t about to take a chance on missing out on those yummy-smelling sandwiches. Frankie was sweet, and Brigit knew she wouldn’t want to accidentally step on her paws. The dog wagged her tail, strategically brushing it against Frankie’s ankle to make her think she’d stepped closer to Brigit than she really had. As expected, Frankie jerked backed, tipped the tray in her hands, and sent three finger sandwiches plummeting over the edge.
As Frankie gasped in dismay, Brigit snatched the first sandwich out of the air before it could even hit the ground. The second sandwich spent only a millisecond on the carpet before she grabbed it up. The last one lay on the ground slightly longer than five seconds, but dogs have no five-second rule. As soon as Brigit finished the second sandwich, she gobbled up the third one, too. Yum! Best party ever!