Perils of a Papillon (Fuzzy Love #3) - Tara Lain Page 0,4

like a plow horse, trying to get to his favorite girl, and Toby had to stick out a sneakered foot against the ceramic tile floor to get enough traction to hold him back. His hands slipped on the leash and he looked around frantically, but there was no help in the empty waiting room, and obviously, no one to call off Batshit inside the clinic.

He’d try to pull Harry out the door except the beast needed his vaccinations or they couldn’t get his license renewed.

“Woof, woof!”

“Harry, damn it!” Toby slid a foot across the floor as Harry threatened to tear down the door that separated him from his lady love.

At that second, the front door of the clinic opened and he walked in clutching his pet carrier.

Him. Just looking at him shot adrenaline into Toby. He gasped, and his hands loosened.

Harry lunged forward and hit the door with both feet, his leash flapping. The door burst open, Batshit leaped out, and in less than a second, Harry chased Bat in circles, wrapping the leash so tightly around Toby’s ankles that he couldn’t balance.

Like a felled tree, admittedly a small one, Toby teetered and tipped toward the floor, his feet bound together like Harry’s prisoner. Oh hell, this is going to hurt!

But it didn’t. Instead of hitting the polished floor with hands, shoulder, or nose, Toby fell into strong, wiry arms that clutched him against an equally strong, lean chest. A soft voice murmured in his ear, “Gotcha.”

“Oh wow, thank you.” Toby stared up into eyes as dark as the chocolate called 100% Black, an architecturally interesting face with high, high cheekbones, a strong, straight nose, and carved jaw, set into relief because the guy was so thin. In fact, the only fat things on him, that Toby could see were his lips that didn’t match the rest of the spare masterpiece. In fact, they were opulent, extravagant, lavish, sumptuous, and a host of other adjectives, and if Toby didn’t change his train of thought, he’d lose it and kiss the guy.

A couple things happened at once. The front door opened and a woman walked in. She took one look at their tableau—one guy hanging stiff as the proverbial board because his ankles were wrapped together in another guy’s arms, faces inches apart while two dogs performed ecstasies of tongue machinations that were probably illegal in Southern states. She gasped.

From Toby’s other side, Erica, the clinic’s second-in-command, yelled, “What in hell’s going on here?” She snorted a laugh. “As if I didn’t know. Jesus, can’t you control your ardor for one second?”

Holy shit, does she think we’re making out? Flames tickled Toby’s cheeks and he struggled to get back to upright—in his posture, not just his jeans. What am I doing? A parent from the school could walk in any moment, ready to destroy my reputation.

Unfortunately, no amount of wriggling could get him on his feet and untied at the same time.

The guy said, “Hang on, give me a second.” He propped Toby into a vertical position, and still holding him so he didn’t tip over again, he unfastened the leash from Toby’s ankles. Finally, Toby stepped free, practically shaking with embarrassment. Truthfully, there were a couple other stimuli mixed in there, but that didn’t give Erica a reason to accuse him of fornication in her waiting room.

He looked up at Erica, frowning.

Erica stood there, hands on her hips—staring down at Harry who was tongue-bathing Batshit like his own all-day sucker.

Toby let out a breath and barked a laugh. His gaze crept to the guy who’d saved him, who’d also managed to get himself to his feet. Toby gazed up—and up. Wow. “Uh, thank you so much. If I’d hit the ground, it would have hurt a lot.”

Chapter Two

The handsome guy shrugged wide, thin shoulders. “No problem.” Picking up his carrier, he walked to the far side of the waiting room, sat, and peered into the door of the crate, his face softening to a half smile.

Toby’s heart beat way too hard.

Erica looked around at the woman and the guy. “Folks, I’m going to take the werewolf here first so he can stop creating havoc.” She reached down and grabbed Harry’s leash. Even though neither Toby nor Molly could control Harry, Erica always could. Like a very model of canine deportment, Harry followed Erica into the back.

“Woof!”

Toby looked down at the cute brown-and-white face, half-Gremlin and half-fox, with ears the size of Texas, staring up at him. He patted his leg