A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,79
sleep with her in her bed? In their bed? He had other plans for their bed.
He glanced back at her as she peered into the huge cage where Sheba lay curled up on her bed while her pups ran to the cage door.
“They’re not family pets?” she asked.
He heard the distinct dissatisfaction in her voice. “They’re like family, lass. They only come out here to sleep at night. During the day, they join the family in various activities. They’re only here right now because this is bath day, and we needed them gathered in one place. After their bath, they get to be walked and join other family members for the rest of the day.”
Logan busily opened all the cage doors. The wolfhounds were huge and ferocious-looking with their shaggy, wiry coats, bristly hair over their eyes, and chin whiskers giving them an old-man appearance. They jumped all over each other, vying to reach Cearnach to earn his attention, while others were checking Elaine out thoroughly—the newcomer to the clan.
Cearnach opened the door for Sheba. Elaine was grinning broadly as she tried to pet all the rambunctious dogs at once. Elaine looked so sweet, right at home with the dogs as the pups licked her all over in greeting. He chuckled under his breath.
Sheba rose, stretched, then trotted over to greet them.
He crouched down to pet her pups as they scrambled over each other to lick and bite him.
“They’re huge for being eight weeks old. I had a yellow Labrador retriever. Her pups at this age were so much smaller, like the difference between a young fawn and a baby moose.”
Cearnach laughed. “Aye. The adult males are taller than a man when standing on their hind legs. Come on,” he coaxed the pups as he took Elaine’s hand and walked through the kennel and into a large shower room with stainless steel benches on one side, a sink on another, and hoses hanging from one wall.
Logan greeted the dogs competing for his attention, but he was checking Elaine out, watching the way the dogs were nosing her, smelling her, brushing up against her, and how she was petting them all.
“You have what? Fifteen adult wolfhounds, ten puppies, and two poodles?” she asked, trying to count them.
“Aye. Sheba’s pups will go to good homes,” Cearnach said. “Most of them. If Ian can convince Julia, that is.”
“How do you know which you’ve washed and which you haven’t with all this chaos?”
“Logan will take the washed dogs into the drying room as soon as I’ve finished with them.”
“Do you want me to help?” Elaine asked, sounding eager.
He smiled at her. “They’re awfully”—one jumped up on him and he finished with—“rambunctious. They’d probably knock you over. Especially as the floor gets wet.”
He began to rinse one of the dogs, though two others tried to tackle the spray. The dogs bumped into Cearnach, who ignored the distractions. Then he turned off the hose and set it on its hook before he began soaping down the dog.
He glanced over to see what Logan and Elaine were doing. She was sitting on one of the benches, cuddling three puppies at once while all were delightfully licking her throat and chin and nipping at her fingers. She was grinning and chuckling. Logan was watching her, beaming.
As soon as Cearnach rinsed the dog, Logan came to take him to the drying room and whispered, “If you don’t want her to be your girlfriend, she can be mine.”
Before Cearnach could respond, Logan, serious as could be, led the wet dog off to the drying room.
Cearnach glanced back at Elaine and saw her washing one of the pups in the large sink. He smiled and shook his head. She would fit right in with the pack.
By the time Cearnach had begun to work on Anlan, father of Sheba’s pups and the last of the male wolfhounds he had to wash, Dillon, the most mischievous of the males, had spied the hose with a devilish gleam in his dark brown eyes. Cearnach knew what he was up to before the dog lunged, but he couldn’t thwart Dillon fast enough.
The dog grabbed the hose and gave it a tug, sending a stream of water Elaine’s way. The water blasted her in the chest and she squealed in surprise.
The stream of water swung wildly as Cearnach wrestled the hose away from the dog’s tight grip. The spray came back around and hit Elaine’s face as she tried to get out of the way.