The She-dogs surged forward and stared intently at the dress.

“I see nothing,” Sabina stated as if her word was the only one that counted. Sabina was Russian, Jess’s second in command and the one whom the pack had been named after, and she had the sexiest accent Mitch had heard in a while. “You are wrong,” she told Mitch.

“I’m not wrong.” He moved behind Jess, placing his hands on her sides. He lifted her up and shook her around for a few seconds. As he knew she would, Jess giggled like a six-year-old.

When he put her back down on the ground, the wild dogs took another look.

“Nipples, my friends,” May announced. Maylin was Mitch’s other favorite wild dog. Originally from somewhere in Alabama, she was cute, Asian, and thought he was “just a darlin’ sweetie!” Unfortunately both females were thoroughly mated. And they had a ton of kids each to prove it. What did one do with so many children? It’s not like you could put them to work in a factory to earn their pay—some considered that wrong.

“We have nipples,” May finished.

Mitch rested his chin on Jess’s shoulder and looked down. “How bad is it? I should examine the area closely. It’s all right, sweetie. I’m a cop.”

Jess reached back and slapped at his face. “You’re disgusting,” she laughed.

The dressmaker, who they had at the wedding for just such situations—who can afford that?—was summoned to the bride’s suite.

Mitch sat in a chair and watched them add matching satin straps to her dress so that it would stay up. Still sleeveless but much safer.

“Better?” Jess asked while she stood in front of him.

He leaned up and put his face right against her breasts. “Give me a moment to investigate.”

“Or,” a really angry voice snarled next to him, “I could tear your throat out now, and we can have a wedding and a funeral.”

Without actually moving away, Mitch turned his head and looked into the angry wolf eyes of Bobby Ray Smith, Smitty to his friends.

“Don’t get mad at me because I’m only trying to be helpful.”

That got Mitch a flash of wolf fangs before Jess pushed Smitty away.

“If either of you get blood on my dress, there will be hell to pay,” she told them.

“Sissy Mae!”

Sissy turned from the bar and faced her most favorite aunts in the world. Her mother’s sisters, but she didn’t hold that against them.

Squealing, she threw herself into their arms, and her aunts hugged her and showed her she wasn’t a complete failure, no matter what her mother said.

“Look at you, darlin’ girl. Ain’t you as pretty as a picture!” her Aunt Francine, the oldest of the Lewis sisters, exclaimed.

“Thank you.” Her momma had told her to lose a few pounds. “I have to admit, I was afraid of what the wild dogs would come up with for the gowns. Especially when I saw Jessie Ann’s wedding gown.” It wasn’t that the bride’s gown wasn’t beautiful. But it probably fit in a bit better in the year 1066.

Leave it to Jessie Ann to go for the weird.

Sissy pulled back from her aunts.

“I like that color on you, though,” Francine told her. “Although brown at a wedding…”

“It’s not brown,” Sissy explained because she’d heard it ten thousand times in the past six months. “It’s chocolate. Dark chocolate. Seventy-two percent—”

“Stop.” Francine held her hand up. “I can’t listen to any of that.”

Sissy laughed. “Leave it to Bobby Ray to catch himself a Jessie Ann.”

“Has she forgiven you?” Roberta, the second youngest, asked.

“She says she has, but I don’t believe her. I come in the room, she finds a way to leave it.”

“No one to blame but yourself on that, Sissy Mae.” Francine never let Sissy forget anything. “You tortured that little thing something fierce.”

“Torture is a harsh word. Accurate,” she added, “but harsh.”

Sissy smiled warmly at her Aunt Darla, the youngest of the sisters. “How’s my Uncle Eggie? I wish he’d come.”

“Aw, darlin’, you know better than that. My man is not good in crowds.” And Darla wasn’t much better.

“He’s probably in a Dumpster somewhere in Smithtown.”

“He better not be,” Darla playfully growled. “I warned him I better not find him in one again.”

“And Dee-Ann?” Sissy asked about her favorite cousin, Darla and Eggie’s only child.

Darla opened her mouth, then shrugged. “Honest, darlin’. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Aunt Darla. I’m sure Dee-Ann’s just fine.” At least Sissy hoped so. She loved her cousin, but Dee worked for the government and whatever she did kept her away from her family and out of touch for way too long in Sissy’s estimation.

“So…” Aunt Janette asked, her eyes bright, “when are you coming home, Sissy Mae?”

“Aww. Do you miss me?”

“Sure…and some cat heifers need another smackdown.”

Typical. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on, Sissy—”

“No, Aunt Janette.” Sissy shook her head for emphasis. “I told you before never again, and I meant it.”

“Ungrateful.”