When Bella was calm, I leaned down and gently set her in the pen next to Bruno.

  Mitch stood beside me.

  Wanda watched next to me while the two dogs sniffed each other's butts. "I think he likes her." She nodded. "Look at her. She's receptive."

  Just like that, Bruno mounted Bella. Quick as a flash, Wanda stepped over the enclosure wall and got up close and personal. With the dogs.

  "Shouldn't we close our eyes or something?" I whispered to Mitch. "Give them some privacy?"

  He gawked at the dogs, enthralled with the process.

  Wanda said to Bruno, "That's it, boy. Yeah. Gentle now."

  And then, to my surprise, she bent down and grabbed Bruno's penis. My eyes went wide. She had to guide it into Bella.

  I grimaced. "Is that necessary? Can't he do it on his own?" I was already giving Bruno low marks for lovemaking skills.

  "This helps prevent injury," Wanda said without looking at us.

  All I knew was that I didn't want to handle dog penises for a living. Cross animal mating handler off my list should hand lettering ever fail.

  Charlie certainly hadn't needed any human handling and intervention to get the job done. I didn't have so much admiration for Bruno right now.

  Bruno kept at it for several awkward minutes, thrusting and panting while we watched. When he slowed down and stopped, he barked and looked at Wanda. Like a servant waiting hand and foot on a king, Wanda lurched forward and guided his leg over Bella. She helped him turn so he stood butt to butt with my dog. Charlie hadn't needed any help with his moves, either.

  This was all too clinical for me. I closed my eyes. Natural was so much nicer.

  "They're tied," Wanda whispered excitedly. "I can't believe it. I've never seen it happen so quickly. My Bruno is the best. Everybody wants him."

  Yeah, well, they hadn't seen Charlie in action, clearly.

  I let out a breath. "Tied. Good." I opened one eye to verify, then turned around. "What do we do now? Go out for a cup of coffee?"

  "It will be fifteen to thirty minutes, maybe even forty-five, before they're through now."

  "I can't stay here and watch," I said. "I'm going out for a breath of fresh air."

  "Suit yourself. They don't need us now," Wanda said. "I'll be here. Just in case."

  If Bruno needed her help disengaging, he wasn't the stud he was made out to be. I strode out of the office into the parking area to watch the horses and calm down.

  Mitch followed me out. "That was beautiful."

  Beautiful? Had he seen the same lame sexual act happening inside that I had?

  "We're going to have puppies!" He rubbed his hands together excitedly.

  "We" really had nothing to do with it. Bella might have puppies. But in that moment, Mitch's true agenda hit me. The excited way he said "we." He saw this as an opportunity for us to stay in communication for the next several weeks as we hoped for a pregnancy. Then for another month or more if Bella was pregnant. Then until the puppies were weaned. And after that, what? For doggy family reunions?

  Mitch had cried when I called off the wedding. It broke my heart to hurt him. I still felt bad about that. But I knew it was right.

  Then he'd gotten angry. It was almost a relief. And I really couldn't blame him. I deserved his anger. I never should have run out of that bridal shop. That was pure panic attack. It took me by surprise as much as anyone. I was usually levelheaded. I wished I'd realized sooner that we weren't right for each other.

  Now it hit me with chilling clarity that he was hoping to win me back. This puppy business was largely a ploy to throw us together.

  Was he really delusional enough to think he could win me back with a shared puppy experience? With a puppy family?

  Chapter 9

  Shelby (Tied by a tie to an awkward situation.)

  I turned to Mitch, trying to be gentle. "The tie is good. But it doesn't necessarily mean she'll get pregnant." Was I kindly trying to set his expectations appropriately? Or was that my selfish hope showing?

  His hangdog look gave me an immediate attack of guilt.

  "Of course, I want you to get a puppy. I know how much you miss Bella. You deserve one of her offspring. A cute little puppy and all its unconditional love is… There aren't words. It's priceless. Believe me, I know." Bella was the reason I'd gotten over that runaway bride episode so quickly and put it in the past. "I want you to be happy."

  I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for the way things turned out. I never meant to hurt you—"

  "No. I get it," he said. "I understand. Wedding stress is a real thing. Some brides can't handle it. With the added pressure of being in the industry, I understand how you could crack."

  Umm…where was this leading? I hadn't cracked. I hadn't had a last-minute case of unreasonable, illogical cold feet. I was a master cold-feet calmer. I know my cold feet from a real case of you-don't-belong-together. Mitch and I didn't belong together. What we'd had had been fun, but it wasn't the stuff of growing old together.

  "What are you doing this weekend?" he asked out of the blue.

  I froze. "Uh."

  "Sunday is going to be an emotional day. For both of us. You know, since we were supposed to be getting married."

  Yeah. It was hard to forget that.

  "I was thinking we could spend the day together. Just the three of us—you, me, and Bella. Have a picnic. Talk things out."

  "I have plans," I said automatically. If I'd thought first, I could have been less blunt. "I'm sorry." I turned on my heel to go back into the barn.

  Mitch caught my arm. "I still love you, Shel. I still have the marriage license. It won't expire for months. We can still use it. Have a private ceremony. Something small. No stress. Just a trip to the courthouse if you want. Grab a couple witnesses off the street. Surprise everybody."

  I swallowed hard.

  "Think about it."

  "I—"

  "If your plans fall through, give me a call. I'll be available. Anytime. I'm not tearing up that license. I'm not giving up hope."

  On the drive home, I let Bella stick her nose out the window, as promised.

  "You were such a good girl," I cooed as we headed home. "See? That wasn't so bad. If a little clinical. I mean, Bruno is no Charlie, right? If it's any consolation, I've had my share of dates like that."

  Bella barked like she was agreeing with me.

  "But he got the job done." I tried to put some rah-rah in my voice. "With a little help. And now—puppies! Hopefully."

  Personally, I would have loved to stick my nose out the window, too. The wind in my face. My ex-fiancé in the rearview mirror. What could be better?

  I dropped Bella off at home. Since I'd been planning to get married over Memorial Weekend, and then go on a weeklong honeymoon, I didn't have any projects or work scheduled. I was free to spend the afternoon looking for a dress. But the time off meant a strained budget, too.

  West Seattle has an eclectic array of shops. It was a short walk to the main shopping area from my home. The day had warmed and the sun had come out. A walk would do me good.

  Friends of mine in the industry ran a small secondhand boutique. They sold gently used wedding dresses, bridesmaid dresses, and lovely evening gowns that been previously owned. I was hoping they had something vintage and beautiful for me. If they didn't, I'd have to try renting. Or see if my friends in Bellevue had something.

  When shopping for an expensive item for a bargain price, the best places to try were the secondhand and Goodwill stores in the upscale neighborhoods. I'd texted Staci and Zander to be on the lookout for something for me yesterday after getting home from Puppy Love and set aside anything they thought might work. They were the expert scavengers and often made trades with other secondhand stores around the area.

  I crossed my fingers that they had a line on something. Zander had once scored three vintage Coco Chanel gowns for the store at a garage sale on Hunts Point. None of the dresses were my size—all of them had been petites, to both Zander's and my disappointment. But I had admired them greatly, and Staci and Zander had gotten a great price when they sold them.

  I went to my bedroom to grab a light sweater for the walk. My wedding dress still hung in its bag on the highest bar in my multi-tiered closet. So beautifully bagged to keep it "pristine."

  I almost laughed aloud at the folly of that bag and its mission to keep my now stained dress lily white. Right. After my infamous run from the fitting?

  Most brides worry about spilling wine or marinara sauce on their dress. Or pricking their finger and getting a drop of blood on it before the wedding. Or a splotch of makeup. For a while there was a trend to trash the dress at or after the wedding. No one I knew was worried about a grass stain on the butt. I got the prize.

  Thousands of dollars down the drain on a dress fitted precisely to me that I would never wear. I was the not-so-proud owner of a perfectly beautiful dress with only a slight grassy mud stain on the butt. Nothing a good cleaner couldn't get out. Probably. Grass stains can be notoriously stubborn. Maybe bleach would do the trick. The dress was white. No colors to fade. But now that the video of me running had gone viral, what bride would want the bad-luck wedding dress, as it had been dubbed?

  Yeah, stupid. I needed to get rid of the dress. I just hadn't decided how yet.

  I have another dirty little secret—I have a habit of keeping relics from broken engagements. Though I couldn't say why. Psychological flaw? The hoarding instinct? It wasn't out of sentimentality. Maybe it was a way to remind myself not to make the same mistake again. I hoped that was all it was.

  I went to my armoire and pulled a small box from the back of the top shelf. Mitch, damn him, had gotten me thinking about these.

  I took the box to the bed and sat with it in my lap a moment before gently removing the lid. Four ring boxes sat inside—one black velvet, one white satin, one a lovely dark wood, and one glitzy, tacky one from Vegas. One was from a discount jewelry place with no logo, one from "your friend in the diamond business," one from the engagement experts, the place to get your engagement ring, and one from the jewelry store attached to the twenty-four-hour Vegas wedding chapel. Three empty engagement ring boxes, including Mitch's. One ring box with a man's plain gold wedding band still inside.

  I'd given Mitch his ring back, but for some reason, not the box. Maybe it was because it seemed pointless after slipping his ring off my finger and handing it back to say, "Hey. Hold on. Let me go back to my place and get the box for that, too. You'll probably want that."

  Turns out there's no good way to give a guy his ring back and no good time to return the ring box later. I guess if you can't refuse the ring when he gets down on one knee holding the ring box up to you, then giving the box back later is just heaping insult on injury.

  No, I hadn't given the box back in any of my broken engagements. Yes, I have another dirty little secret—I have broken four engagements. No one but me knows about all of them. Each box reminds me of the mistakes I made and the moment in my history when I thought I could tie the knot with a guy who turned out later to be Mr. Wrong.

  The only box with a ring still in it was from my runaway Vegas wedding. I had my groom's ring in my purse when I'd done the sign-up-for-a-wedding-and-dash move.

  Fortunately, I'd never gotten to the stage of buying a wedding ring for my first two fiancés. And I was able to return Mitch's. But that ring box from a Vegas jewelry store was a big black eye on my history. I still couldn't remember buying it. I supposed I could pawn it if times ever got really tight. But, drunk, I apparently wasn't that generous. When I finally got all my credit card charges for that trip, I found a charge for two hundred dollars for the ring.

  I slapped the lid back on the big box, shoved it to the back of the armoire, and grabbed the sweater I'd been looking for. Now wasn't the time to dwell on failures.

  Without a backward glance at my failed wedding dress, I headed to the living room to get my keys. When Bella saw me grab them, she barked and ran back and forth to the door, begging to go with me.

  "You hate clothes shopping. Remember when I took you with me wedding dress shopping that one time? Better for you to stay here. You'll have more fun. Even though Staci and Zander spoil you." I stopped myself. "But not too much fun. Stay inside. I'll tell Staci and Zander hello for you."

  I headed out, up the hill, along the old cracked sidewalk in the sunshine that Seattleites never took for granted. Along the way I got a cup of coffee to go from one of my favorite shops and arrived at the boutique properly caffeinated and in a happy mood.

  Zander met me at the door. "Shellll…by. We've been waiting for you." He had a singsong way of saying my name. Today he was being particularly dramatic about it, his way of teasing and letting me know how happy he was to see me.

  Zander was an aging former drag queen and still sometimes cross-dresser. Today he was dressed as a man in a classically cut bright blue suit that only someone like Zander could pull off. On him, it looked gorgeous. He had a shaved head, heavily rimmed black glasses, and a smile that lit up any room. He called into the backroom, "Staci, she's here!"

  He pulled me into an exuberant hug. "How are you, girl? A date with a billionaire? Is that what you said? To the Hudson/Kangley wedding. My, my.

  "Now, how did you score an invitation? Every one of us was dying for a piece of that wedding pie. If only I had another vintage Chanel, we might have had a fighting chance. You know Staci and I are going to want all the details. Staci."

  He held me at arm's length and studied me as if taking my measurements. "Yes, yes. I think it will do."

  Staci hustled in from the back room. She was a slender, gray-haired woman, elegantly dressed. She always wore a long, loopy necklace of some sort. Today was no different. Long strands of pearls punctuated by gold beads swung back and forth and bounced against her bust as she rushed in.

  "There you are! So good to see you, Shelby. Good to see you out and about." She put just the right amount of sympathy and pity in her voice. She and Zander were well aware of the stain my failed engagement had caused to my reputation. "And dating again already."

  We exchanged a quick hug.

  "So, tell me all about this billionaire." Staci didn't hide her excitement.

  My gaze bounced between the two of them. "I'm sure you've already looked him up."

  "Of course we did." Zander looked scandalized that there was any other option. "He loves dogs. We know that much. That's good. Isn't that on your must-have list for potential husbands?"

  "Well, yeah. I'm not looking that far ahead right now. This is a first date."

  "Never go on a first date with a man you know you couldn't marry," Staci said.

  I corrected myself. "Actually, the wedding will be a second date. He's taking me out to Soundview Burgers tonight."

  "Soundview?" Staci asked.

  "Their burgers are delicious, Stace," Zander said. "True romance doesn't need big budgets. A casual billionaire. That's good. No pretention. We like our casual billionaires. Just because a man can spend a lot of money doesn't mean he always should." He winked at me and did an aside with his hand against the side of his mouth. "Ask me how I know."

  "I suggested it," I said. "So he could meet Bella."

  "Excellent plan," Zander said. "If Bella doesn't like him, you'll have to cross him off your list, billionaire or not."

  "Bella will love him," Staci said. "He owns Puppy Love. They say he's excellent with dogs."

  I wondered who "they" were.

  "You two are up to something. You're like two kids on Christmas. Stop stalling. You have something you think I'll love. Where is it?" My pulse raced. I made a point of looking around the boutique.

  They exchanged a conspiratorial look.

  "I think we may be able to help," Zander said.

  "Did you get another Chanel?" I asked a little too eagerly.

  "Alas, no." He sighed. "I'm still lamenting that they weren't my size. I believed for a long time that finding three Chanels at once used up my lifetime's allotment of luck. But I was wrong! I have something that I think will be better for you." Zander took my arm. "This way."

  He led me back to the fitting rooms with Staci following behind us. He took me to the room at the end of the row. "Staci, do the honors."

  "No, this is you, Zander. It's your find." Staci turned to me. "The man is a genius at finding true treasures. They just seem to gravitate to him."

  "He is irresistible," I said with a wink.

  "I'm magnetic, that's true." Zander beamed and threw the dressing room door open with a flourish.

  I gasped. A gown so beautiful it took my breath away hung—really, almost floated—on the rack in front of me. It glittered gently, golden beneath the soft, warm, flattering lights.

  My mouth fell open. It took me a minute to find my voice again. "That is not vintage. Is that a Monique Lhuillier? Current season?"

  Zander took my arm again and propelled me forward toward it. "It is indeed. Gathered bodice. V-neck. Gold metallic glitter fireworks tulle. You always wanted to be a princess." He winked at me. "Silk lined. Wait until you see the cape."

  "No." I shook my head in disbelief. "You have the cape, too?"

  Zander grinned. "In the bag on the next rack. We didn't want to overwhelm you all at once."

  Staci came up next to me and put her hand on my arm. "Stunning, isn't it?"

  "And it's all your size." Zander took my hand and led me to the dress. "Touch it. Feel it." He guided my hand to the dress. "Absorb the luxury and richness. It's magic, isn't it?"

  I pulled back. "I can't. This is from this season's collection. It's brand new. I can't afford it, even secondhand."

  "Ah, but you can." Zander pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "I got it for a hundred dollars at a Goodwill on Mercer Island."

  "This was at the Goodwill?" I couldn't believe it. I hated to call him a liar, but…

  "Technically, the Goodwill parking lot. It never actually made it into the Goodwill. By the grace of the fashion gods. Can you imagine what those people would have done with it? Or to it?" Zander shuddered.