Everyone wearing white at a bachelorette party.

What next, a black wedding?

I step back to look at myself in the full-length mirror. “Hmm.”

I turn and look at my behind. This dress is a lot shorter than I would usually wear.

My minidress is fitted and strapless, and I’m wearing nude stilettos with a clutch in the same color. I’m fake tanned, my blonde hair is down and full, and my makeup is trying to be sexy.

“Not bad.”

I’m going to let my hair down tonight, have fun with the girls, maybe dance with someone to take my mind off everything. And by everything, I mean my out-of-bounds twat-face next-door neighbor Henley James.

That damn man is distracting.

I’ve been in my house for over two weeks now, and instead of painting and planning my renovations, all I’m doing is plotting and spying . . . on him.

It’s counterproductive and getting really annoying.

I get Barry’s huge bone out of the fridge and take it out back. “This should keep you busy,” I tell him. He just looks up at me, completely uninterested in my gift.

“You eat it,” I tell him.

He ignores it.

I go to walk back inside, and he tries to follow me. “No, you be a good boy and amuse yourself tonight. Momma needs a night out.”

He immediately begins to bark and scratch on the door to be let in.

“No,” I tell him.

“Woof, woof, woof,” he carries on.

“Seriously.” I glance at my watch. “I have to go.” I walk away from the back door. Maybe if he can’t see me, he’ll calm down. He’s quite happy to stay outside if I’m home.

I reapply my lipstick to the sound of him barking in the distance.

Fuck’s sake.

I don’t want Henley to go postal again.

“Barry, stop it.”

Henley

I hold the cards in my hand and take a drag of my cigar. My eyes flick around the table.

Poker night.

And I am kicking their asses.

Blake puts down a stack of chips. “I’ll raise you fifty.”

I narrow my eyes. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

“Looks like you boys are making another deposit into the bank of Henley James.” I smirk.

Blake holds the cigar between his teeth as he looks through his hand. “That bank is fucking corrupted.” He throws his cards down.

I chuckle. “What about you, soft cock?” I ask Ant.

“Fuck off,” Bennet mutters, deep in concentration, a pen strategically placed behind his ear. “Hold.”

“Full house.” I smirk as I lay the cards down.

The table erupts. “Fuck off,” they all cry. “You are one hundred percent cheating.”

I laugh as I begin to shuffle the cards.

A knock sounds at the door.

“That’s the pizza,” I say. We all throw twenty dollars onto the table, and Blake goes to answer the door.

“Who wants to double the stakes?” I smirk as I look around the table.

“Triple them,” Antony says.

I laugh as I lean back on my chair. “Begging to be bent over again, I see.”

“Well, hello there,” we hear Blake say in his trying-to-be sexy voice. “Who are you?”

“Is Henley home?” I hear Juliet’s voice, and I glance up to see her dressed in white and looking like Aphrodite herself.

Next minute I’m standing at the door. “Juliet.” My eyes drop down her tanned and muscular legs, and I imagine them around my ears.

I feel myself twinge with arousal.

Hmm.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says.

Suddenly all the boys are standing behind me, waiting to be introduced.

Fuck off.

“Hi, I’m Bennet.” He steps forward and shakes her hand. “It is great to meet you.”

I stare at him deadpan. Don’t even think about it.

“Hello.” She smiles. “I’m Juliet.” She points to her house with her thumb. “I just moved in next door.”

“That’s great,” Antony says in an overexaggerated way. “We are neighbors. Excellent.”

I give him a swift elbow to the ribs.

“I’m Blake.” He shakes her hand and turns her so that her back is facing me. “You look fabulous, by the way. White really sets off your eyes.”

“Oh . . . ,” she says, embarrassed. “Thanks, I guess.”

I step behind her and slice my finger across my throat at him.

“Juliet, come inside and play cards with us.”

“She’s here to see me,” I snap. At least she better be. I lead her down my front steps and away from the animals in the zoo.

“So sorry to barge in,” she says.

“No problem.” I concentrate on keeping my eyes on her face. I remember those great tits.

They bounce . . .

“I’m heading out tonight, and I just wanted to warn you that I have a problem with Barry,” she replies.

“Who’s Barry?”

“My dog. You know, the one you hate.”

I screw up my face. “You named your dog Barry?”

“He came with the name. Anyway, I have a date tonight, and . . .”

She’s going on a date . . . looking like that?

Owoooooooooooo. The dog howls from next door, and I instantly feel my hackles rise.

“Has there ever been a worse sound than that?” I ask her.

“He just doesn’t like me going out.”

That makes two of us.

“I’m not babysitting for you. I can’t help it if your dog is a wimp, Juliet. What were you thinking getting a mutt named Barry, anyway?”

“I know . . . but”—she hunches her shoulders up and tries to be cute—“if you could just—” She holds out a piece of paper with a phone number on it.

“Call the pound to come and take it back?” I reply dryly.

“No,” she snaps. “He will calm down when I leave. I’m sure of it.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Call me and I’ll come home.”

Owoooooooooooo cries the wimpy dog over the fence.

Hmm . . . I take the paper from her. “You better come straight home if I call because I am not listening to that carry on all night.”

“You won’t even hear him; you’re playing cards with your friends.”

“I’ll be bored of them soon.”

“Fuck off,” I hear the chorus of them all yell inside, and I roll my eyes. Of course they’re listening.

“So, if he doesn’t calm down, you’ll call me?”

“This is a major inconvenience.”

“Please?” She does a jig on the spot.

I exhale heavily. “I guess I’ll have to. I don’t want the entire street disrupted.”

“Thanks.”