“I know how that feels,” he said as he knelt down and unwound the leashes from her legs while the pugs gave excited yips and yaps in-between delivering happy kisses to his face. “There, got you.”

When he glanced up at her from his position, his fingers still brushing the sides of her calves, he could have sworn he heard a crack of thunder, but the sky outside was bright the way only a cloudless December sky could be.

“You know there are training techniques you can use to get them to walk on an assigned side of you,” he said, the words coming out even as he could feel his entire family wince behind him—and, in fact, heard several of them groan. “The key is to hold the lead so that—”

“Nash,” Chelle said, cutting him off. “We’ll talk about it later.”

The rest of the wedding ceremony went by fast, and before he knew it, he had a simple gold band on his finger, and she had a matching one on hers.

“If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Karmel said, pausing for a moment before opening her mouth to continue.

“I object,” a man called out from the back of the apartment.

Every head in the room turned as if on a synchronized swivel to look where a scrawny guy in a huge cowboy hat stood in the doorway.

“Uncle Buckley,” Chelle said, her entire body practically vibrating with fury. “You weren’t invited, and you aren’t supposed to have a key to this place.”

This was her asshole uncle? The man had the perpetual shithead vibe to him that made it seem plausible that his hobbies were pulling the wings off of flies and telling small children that Santa Claus was fake. His narrow-eyed gaze focused on Chelle with an intensity that made Nash take a step forward to put his body between hers and her uncle’s as Groucho and Mary growled at Chelle’s feet, the fur on their backs going up in spikes.

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to be honoring your father’s will, not making a farce of it,” Buckley said. “That’s why I object.”

“On what grounds?” Karmel asked, annoyance dripping from her tone.

“Because all of this is a joke,” Buckley said, spittle flying from his lips. “There’s no way anyone would think of you as an eligible bride.”

“Why the hell not?” Nash asked, the words coming out before he realized he was going to say anything.

“Look at her,” Buckley spluttered. “She’s too old to have kids. She’s fat. She’s weird.”

Everything inside Nash went absolutely still, and his vision narrowed down to the point that all he could see was that dipshit’s bulbous nose. The one he was going to go break—maybe in more than one place.