Love and Shenanigans (Ballybeg, Book 1) (The Ballybeg Series) by Zara Keane

tremulous. “Is this a marriage certificate?” 

Chapter Seven
    “AW, FUCK!” Gavin tossed his water bottle to the ground and inspected the damage.
    Wiggly Poo gave a final retch, then bounded up to Gavin and licked his hand.
    “Get off me, you bad dog. Look what you’ve done.”
    Wiggly Poo retrieved the remnants of Gavin’s wedding suit trousers from his dog basket and deposited them at his master’s feet.
    “Are you expecting praise for massacring my trousers?”
    The dog wagged his tail.
    “Do you think we should call the vet?” Jonas leaned against the doorframe of Gavin’s bedroom, a smile curving his lips.
    “That fecker ate my wedding suit.” Gavin held up the shredded trousers. “He deserves to be sick.”
    “You’re a heartless dog daddy.” Jonas was laughing. The traitor!
    “For the last time, it’s not my dog.”
    “Whatever you say, mate.” His friend straightened and reached for Gavin’s suit jacket. “He’s after puking all over this, too.”
    “What the hell am I going to do?” He threw open his wardrobe and rifled through his clothes. “Muireann’s going to kill me.”
    “An unfortunate start to married life,” Jonas said dryly. “Have you no other suit you could wear?”
    “None Muireann would deem acceptable. It has to be a morning suit.”
    “Okay. You hop in the shower, and I’ll ring the suit rental place on Patrick Street.”
    “Shouldn’t we take the dog to the vet first? If I need to take him, it’d better be now. We’re not due at the church until eleven.”
    “Nah. He looks remarkably cheerful for a dog that just threw up. We’ll give him breakfast and see how he fares.”
    “Right.” Gavin leaned his head against the wardrobe door, thoughts racing, chest heaving. “Dammit. Muireann will be pissed. She was dead set on me wearing that suit.”
    “Shower. Shave. I’ll take care of the dog and the phone call.”
    “Jonas, you’re a star. Thank you.”
    “No worries. Now get moving.” Jonas picked up Wiggly Poo. “And don’t have a panic attack in the shower.”
    “Not panic. Asthma.” Gavin gestured toward Wiggly Poo.
    Jonas arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, right.”
    Gavin stripped in his en suite bathroom and stepped into the shower. He blasted it at top power, relishing the feeling of the needles of water stabbing his back. Everything would be fine. He’d find a solution. Even if he couldn’t wear the suit Muireann had chosen, he wouldn’t show up at the church in his birthday suit.
    He washed, shaved, and dressed with as much speed as he could muster in his groggy state. Jeans and a T-shirt would do until he got a suit at The Black Tie. By the time he entered the kitchen, Jonas had breakfast on the table.
    Gavin sniffed the air in appreciation. “A full Irish. Jonas, I might marry you instead.”
    “I figured a culinary coronary would be a fitting end to the morning.”
    “Woof!” Wiggly Poo dashed under the kitchen table and buried his snout in Gavin’s crotch.
    “Wiggly Poo. We need to have a word about your manners. Crotch sniffing is not socially acceptable.”
    “You’re not seriously going to leave the poor creature saddled with that name?”
    “I dunno.” Gavin examined the dog. “It sort of suits him.”
    Jonas speared a fried mushroom. “I spoke to Nora at The Black Tie. She’s rooting in the back for a couple of suits for you. Said it’s a pity you’re so tall.”
    “I won’t be shrinking between now and the ceremony. Whatever she has will have to do.”
    “Right-o. Eat up, and we’ll go by after we drop the dog off.”
    “Sure your aunt realizes what she’s letting herself in for?”
    “Ignorance is bliss, my friend. Besides, Mary’s good with dogs. She’ll be grand.”
    “It’s her house I’m worried about.”
    He piled his plate high with rashers, sausages, black and white puddings, fried mushrooms, and tomatoes. On one point Jonas was correct: he was the superior cook. “Delicious.”
    “The dog seems to