Page 53 of Beware of Dog (Lean Dogs Legacy #6)

It was a dizzying week leading up to the wedding, and Cass found she had to force herself through her classes, worrying all the time about who would be arriving that day and what sort of drama might unfold in her absence.

Tenny and Reese continued to stay at the flat, but thankfully everyone else booked hotel rooms, even her mother, who arrived with Miles and Tommy on Tuesday.

Shep picked her up from class, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing over the obvious pains he’d taken with his appearance.

Under his cut and jacket, he wore a button-up blue shirt that had actually seen the business side of an iron.

His jeans looked new: dark blue, stiff in the legs, without a single rip or hole anywhere to be seen.

His boots gleamed in the sunlight. He’d put so much gel in his hair that it was crunchy, and though he always smelled good to Cass, he’d doused himself in so much cologne today that it burned her nostrils when she got up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“You look nice.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered, and passed over her helmet. “Come on or we’ll be late.”

She managed to hold on to her laughter until he’d started the bike, and the growl of the engine drowned it out.

They made their way through afternoon downtown traffic to the New Yorker. Shep stood beside his bike a long moment after they’d parked, fiddling with his hair. Cass couldn’t keep back a laugh then, and he scowled at her.

“It’s cute how nervous you are.”

“Shuddup,” he said, nervously , and ducked down to peer at himself in the bike’s mirror. “I’ve never met the woman before, and I’ve already put a ring on you. It’ll help my case if I don’t look like I just scraped myself off the floor of a dive bar.”

She chuckled. “You never look like that.”

He shot her a yeah right glance and fluffed his hair up in front.

Cass propped a hand on her hip. “You get that you’re hot, right?”

He straightened, and gave her a deadpan stare. Tapped the bridge of his nose, where the old break had healed crooked. “Yeah. ‘Cause that’s what mothers want for their daughters: hot.”

“I’m complimenting you, you goofus,” she said, smiling.

“Yeah, great, I don’t think your mom cares how much I can bench press. Meanwhile.” He gestured to his face. “I have a face made for parking lot brawls.”

“Made by parking lot brawls, maybe,” she said. “But you’re very handsome.” She cocked her hip and batted her lashes. Put on a fake, breathy voice. “You’re a dish, darling, she’ll love you.”

His eyes bugged, and then, finally, as she’d hoped, he grinned. “What the fuck was that ?”

“A character I’m workshopping.” She looped her arm through his and towed him up the sidewalk. “Tenny has all these alter egos, I figure I should get one of my own. I think I’ll call her Darla.”

“Darla,” he echoed, chuckling.

“She has a thing for bad boys. American bad boys, specifically. Nothing turns her on like a busted nose and a Jersey accent.”

“Damn. Sounds like Darla hit the jackpot.”

“Oh, she did.”

By the time they pushed through the doors of the hotel, he was grinning, his body relaxed beside hers, and that had been the whole goal.

They crossed the marble floors with Shep still laughing; passed beneath the extravagant art deco chandelier, and Cass steered him toward three familiar faces while his attention was on her, and not the meeting to come.

Miles and Tommy sat flanking Emily on one of the broad, modern blue sofas that ringed the lobby. Miles lifted a hand in greeting; Tommy’s gaze went straight to Shep, and it wasn’t Fox-intense, but it was aiming for that.

Emily looked smaller and older than Cass remembered. A little thinner, and paler, her hair, always dyed, shot through with streaks of gray, though it was as neatly cut and styled as ever. She wore glasses, black-rimmed oval frames that magnified her eyes, even from a distance.

“Okay, but,” Shep started, and then fell silent, his arm stiffening against hers when he caught sight of the trio on the sofas. “Aw, shit,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” Cass whispered, and towed him the rest of the way forward.

Miles stood first. “Hi.”

Cass released Shep so she could accept his hug, and then there was Tommy, hugging her sideways with one arm, watching as Miles traded hand claps and a quick bro hug with Shep.

“Hey, good to see you, man,” Shep said, and Miles patted his arm as he drew back.

“Yeah. You too.”

Arm still around Cass, Tommy stuck his hand forward. “Tommy.”

“Don’t put on that voice, you prick,” Cass sighed. “If he’s not afraid of Tenny, he’s certainly not going to be afraid of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, affronted.

Shep accepted Tommy’s shake; Cass could see the muscles flex in his forearm and knew the grip was tight. “Shep,” he said, matching Tommy’s don’t-fuck-with-me tone, and then some.

“Yes, yes, you’re both very manly,” Cass said, shrugging out from under Tommy’s arm. “Let’s skip the theatrics.”

Then Emily stood, and Cass’s stomach tightened with nerves. “Hi, Mum.”

Emily stepped forward. She clutched the strap of her purse across her chest, and Cass saw, with alarm, that her eyes were bright with unshed tears behind her glasses. “Hello, darling.”

“Oh, Mum, don’t cry .” When Cass stepped forward, Emily opened her arms, and her hug was tight, her breath shuddery in Cass’s ear. “Are you upset? Please don’t be unhappy.”

“I’m not,” Emily assured. She squeezed her once, hard, and then pulled back to dig a tissue from her purse and dab at her eyes. “It’s so good to see you, love. I’ve missed you terribly.” She sniffed, and smiled.

Then her gaze cut almost shyly toward Shep. “Okay, then. Introduce me to your handsome gentleman.”

Cass wished that now was an appropriate time to whip out her phone and take a picture, because Shep’s nauseated look was the sort of thing that needed preserving. She rubbed at the outside of his arm and said, “Mum, this is Frank. Frank, this is my mum, Emily.”

Comically, Shep lifted his hand, looked at it, looked at Emily, and then offered an uncertain shake. “Hi. Good to meet you.” He sounded like he needed to clear his throat, and Cass bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Hello.” Emily didn’t do the whole handshake thing, but she gripped Shep’s fingers delicately in her own for a brief press, and then let go. She looked Shep up and down, and then leaned toward Cass and stage-whispered, “Bit older than I thought.”

“ Mum .”

Emily smiled, all dimpled, girlish innocence. “Lovely to look at, though.”

Shep blushed, the tips of his ears going tomato-red, and Miles and Tommy grinned in a way that meant they were definitely going to tell this story to everyone.

~*~

Raven met them for an early dinner at her favorite Italian place. They had a reservation, a big round corner booth in the back, where they wouldn’t interrupt the other diners if the boys got rowdy, an inevitability given Reese and Tenny joined them, and Shep’s personality in general.

The three women sat in the very center of the big, curved banquette, Raven and Cass flanking Emily. On Cass’s other side, Shep’s arm brushed hers as he leaned an elbow on the table and pointed his fork at Tommy. “Nah. No way. That never happened.”

“Oh, I’ll show you.” Tommy pulled out his phone, full-up with righteousness and whiskey, face flushed as he scrolled for photos. “You’ll eat your fucking words, Yank.”

Cass laid a hand on his thigh under the table. He patted her hand and said, still too loud: “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Cass shook her head and gave up.

When she turned toward her mom, she saw Emily’s gaze pinging from one side of the table to the other, and back again, and again. “Is it always like this?”

Cass was an only child, and though Emily saw the boys now and then, it was never for long, and never in a group setting. She’d not spent any time at Baskerville Hall, so she wasn’t used to Dogs going at one another like this. It was good-natured, but it was a lot.

“Unfortunately,” Raven said with an eyeroll. “Especially if Tenny is involved,” she said, pointedly, raising her voice.

Tenny lifted his hands. “I’m not even a part of this conversation.” He gestured between Tommy and Shep.

“Somehow, this must be your fault,” Raven shot back.

Emily leaned in closer to Cass, their shoulders pressed together.

Cass said, “It gets a little crazy when there’s several of us together. But.” She shrugged. “It’s fun.”

Emily nodded, slowly, overwhelmed.

Cass put her hand back on Shep’s thigh, and this time, she pinched him.

“Ow!” His head snapped around her direction, and when they made eye contact, Cass widened her eyes and tipped her head toward Emily.

Shep frowned, and then he got it, brows shooting up, expression going sheepish. He shoved Tommy’s phone back across the table with a, “Yeah, yeah, sure,” and bent back over his plate, more subdued.

Tommy fell back into his seat, tucked his phone away, and Reese did something out of sight that made Tenny jump in his seat.

The table fell silent, and Cass realized just how loud they’d been against the backdrop of piped-in string music, the chime of cutlery, and the low murmur of the kitchen through the flap doors.

Miles cast an almost-desperate glance around the table, begging someone to break the quiet.

Emily twirled spaghetti onto her fork and said, as if the previous chaos hadn’t happened, “So, Frank. You’re a Lean Dog.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He darted a sideways look at Cass, and she realized, with a lurch, that they hadn’t come up with any sort of cover story.

Emily knew very little about the Dogs, by design: she thought they were bike enthusiasts with normal day jobs.

Some of the Dogs had real jobs, but Shep wasn’t one of them.

“What else do you do? Cass hasn’t told me very much at all,” she said, with a gentle note of reprimand.

Oh shit.

Across the table, Tenny’s brows said oh shit , too.

Cass took a breath, ready to bullshit her way through it, but Shep said, “I work security. Private security.”