Cole glanced at her watch. “Leila said tenish.”
“I’m teasing. You’re way too serious. Collier, this is Noel, Leila’s Agility teacher, and her friend Sam. And this.” She kissed his dreads. “This is my husband, also known as Eye-C. He’s just home from a tour.”
“What’s up?” Scott, expression cool, put out his fist.
After a second’s hesitation, Eye-C gave him a fist bump. “It’s cool.” He looked at his wife. “I’m home. Need to lay it down. Now.”
Shajuanna gave her husband a look that didn’t need interpretation. “You hit the shower then I’ll hit the sheets.”
He gave her a look that took advantage of the fact that her towering height put her bosom nearly at his eye level then reached out and snagged open her neckline and leaned to look in.
Shajuanna smiled. “You good to go?”
“There’s no question.” He released her top and walked away.
Chuckling to herself, Shajuanna hugged Cole. Next she bent down to greet Hugo. “And this ebony sugarplum I know is Hugo.” She waited until the Bouvier nudged her hand before she petted him.
After a moment she looked at the chocolate Lab. “Now who’s this?”
“Izzy.” Scott gave Izzy permission to approach Shajuanna.
Shajuanna smiled and patted her. “Just what I need under my roof, another beautiful bitch.” Her laughter carried through the entry.
“Come here, boyfriend.” She gave Scott a full-bodied hug that Cole noticed included a pat on his butt. She winked at Cole. “See you guys later. My man’s waiting. Grab a drink and then tell Isaac I said show you the kennels.”
It turned out Isaac was the man-mountain of a bodyguard. He was still dressed in a suit, as if it were armor. He led them into the main part of the house, a large family room, casually but expensively decorated with leather furnishings and granite flooring. Shajuanna had come a long way from sharing a bedroom with her brother.
“Get your drinks and something to eat first.” For a man so large his voice was curiously soft. “No food or drinks allowed in the kennel. I’ll be back in fifteen.”
Scott and Cole looked around, clocking the people, the mood, and the numbers.
The party was much more low-key than either of them had expected. The music was jazzy, Brazilian in tone. Less than thirty people were in attendance. However, every other person had a dog on a leash, everything from toys held protectively under the arm to a Neapolitan mastiff spread out like a hundred-and-fifty-pound throw in the far corner.
Scott leaned in toward Cole. “Let’s hope he had a good meal recently.”
Cole nodded and patted Hugo, who had just discovered the worthy rival for his position as alpha male in the room. “Hugo. Pfui.”
Hugo glanced up at her for confirmation. “Lass da sein.” In other words, forget about it.
He woofed under his breath and sat down, deliberately glancing away.
“Why do you talk to Hugo in German?” Leila had appeared before them, dressed in curly poodle ears on a bandeau. She had two more in her hands and offered them.
Cole took a pair.
Scott looked at them as if they might bite. “No.”
“I speak to Hugo in German because it’s the international language for dog training.” A white lie but not totally untrue. It was the dominant language for law-enforcement dog training.
Leila looked very serious, as usual. “Can you teach it to me?”
“When you’ve learned all the commands for Agility in English we’ll see.” Uncomfortable with a promise she knew she’d never be around to keep, she changed the subject. “Where’s the birthday boy?”
“He’s with Mama. It’s a surprise party. He’s got a cake and everything.” Leila pointed to a table in the breakfast area. “Want to see?”
Scott gazed longingly at the food spread out nearby. “You girls go see. Izzy and I are thirsty. You want a drink?”
Cole nodded. “Something light.”
“Your ears?” Leila pointed.
Cole slipped on her polka dot Dalmatian doggy ears. “How do I look?”
“Bitchy.” Leila’s giggle made her sound like the nine-year-old she was.
After a turn about the Puppy Table, Leila went to look for her mother. Cole came back to show Scott her plate. “Look what I found.”
“Sweet.” Scott grabbed the biggest of the two cupcakes from her plate.
“No, no!” Cole grabbed his wrist. “That’s for Izzy. It’s a Pupcake.”
Scott stared suspiciously at the confection in his hand then sniffed it. “It smells like peanut butter and cinnamon.”
“With real cream cheese frosting. I took that off. But Hugo loved the cake part. You should see what they have for the dogs. Sweet potato pretzels. Dog bone cookies. Puppy Chow mix. There’s even a three-tier cake. It’s a doggy’s wet dream.”
To confirm that, Hugo barked. Unfortunately his deep woof rattled the composure of every lapdog within hearing and drew the frowns of the other guests.