Page 135 of Beware of Dog

This wasn’t the first time Cass had crossed the threshold of Shep’s designated cabin up the hill in the woods behind the clubhouse, but it was the first time she’d entered it as his lover. His fiancée, even.

It was one room, with a bathroom that jutted off the back, all very rudimentary. Metal bed frame, military footlocker, an old dresser with peeling white paint where he stowed his clothes, not many now that most of his things had migrated toManhattan. A round dining table sat in front of the window, two chairs, a desk lamp. The first thing she spotted when she walked in, the thing she’d been looking for, actually, was a familiar stack of skin mags on the nightstand.

“A little light reading before bed?” she asked, innocently.

Shep followed the line of her gaze and said, “Aw, shit.” He crossed the room, gathered up the magazines, and bent to shove them under the bed. Two slipped off the top and landed splayed-open on the hardwood.

Cass tilted her head for a better angle and said, “Well that doesn’t look comfortable.”

Shep muttered under his breath and kicked them under the bed with the others, glossy paper crinkling and tearing under his bootheel.

Cass laughed. “Don’t hurt yourself. I’ve seen those before, you know.”

“Yeah, but that was…shit.” One tried to slither from under the bed, and he snatched it up, crumpled it in both hands, and chucked it across the room to land with a neat swoosh in the wastebasket in the corner. He was breathing harder than the situation warranted. His brows shot up. “That was before your dad told me to make sure you come really hard when we fuck.”

“Hewhat? Oh,disgusting. Isthatwhat the two of you were talking about?”

Shep grimaced. “He said,” doing air quotes, “to be ‘good’ to you in bed. Like, who says that? And I am.” His face fell. “I am, right? You’re…” He gestured vaguely.

“Yes, you’re wonderful,” she said with a wave. “Our neighbors probably hate us I make so much noise.”

He grinned. “Those are good noises.”

She wasn’t going to get distracted. “I can’t believe he said that.” She turned and dropped down on the end of the bed, old iron bedsprings creaking. “Ican. But. Just.Ew.”

Shep sat down beside her. “He’s a fucked-up dude.”

“He has ten children with ten women. He, and all of us, are fucked up.”

He slung an arm across her shoulders, heavy, grounding, always welcome. He did it so often that she’d come to expect it; she felt too light, like she might float away, when it wasn’t there. “Not too fucked up for me,” he said in a put-on, cheesy mockery of sincerity that, nevertheless, managed to sound pretty damn sincere.

She leaned into his hold and patted his thigh. “Thank God. What would I do with someone well-adjusted?”

“Eat him alive, probably,” he said, and they both chuckled. He jostled her lightly, and turned his head to press his lips to her temple. “Hey, you wanna get married tomorrow?”

Her smile started in her chest, warmth spilling down through her ribs, welling up into her throat until it stretched her lips. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

His forearm swung forward off her shoulder so his hand covered her breast. “You gonna let me begood to you in bedlike your daddy told me to?”

“Oh, no!” She made an outraged noise, and he fell back across the bed easily, laughing, when she shoved him.

Thirty-Two

“Here,” Becca said, leaning in on Cass’s right side. In the mirror, she was nothing but an arm, a hand, and a coffee mug. “You look queasy.”

She was, and that bothered her. She wasn’t scared. Wasn’t even nervous. She was getting married, and she was marrying Shep, and she’d fallen asleep last night sweat-sticky and deeply satisfied, using his shoulder for a pillow. But she’d awakened this morning with a knot in her stomach, and it was only getting tighter as the big event inched closer.

“I can’t handle any more coffee,” she said, holding up a hand. In the mirror, Raven’s thin fingers moved sure and swift through her hair, working it out flat with the comb, slicking it with something citrus-smelling, and then twisting it into intricate curls she secured with bobby pins that blended seamlessly with her hair.

“Oh, honey, it’s champagne,” Becca said with a chuckle, and Cass took it readily.

She took a sip, and then, via the reflection, noted that Emmie and Eden also held mugs.

As if reading her thoughts, Axelle said, “They’re saving the flutes for outside. So we gotta make do.” She lifted her mug toward the mirror. “Cheers.”

A light rap sounded at the door before it opened, and Joanna called, “Knock knock!” as she entered. “How are we getting along ladies?” She wore a black dress with lace at the collar and a tasteful amount of leopard-print piping down the sides. Her heels were leopard-print, too, Cass could see in the mirror.

“Makeup’s done,” Raven said around a mouthful of bobby pins. “Hair’s halfway there.”

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