How to Howl at the Moon by Eli Easton Read Free Book Online

through the bath water, testing the temperature. Lance looked at the steamy water and looked at Tim.
    Tim made no move to force Lance into the tub. He pulled off his own shirt, tugging the long-sleeved T-shirt over his head to reveal a thin frame with surprisingly broad shoulders, and then knelt by the tub. Lance looked away, surprised by the way Tim’s naked chest felt too intimate, almost as if he was an attractive woman. Then again, Tim’s skin looked really soft and he did smell awfully good.
    Lance sank down into a sit and plopped his pink pole of a leg down in front of him. He panted with anxiety. His dog was uneasy. The door was closed, and he was trapped in there. Trapped with a half-naked Tim. Tim, who was trying very hard to take care of him. The dog didn’t want to hurt Tim, which meant he was going to have to do whatever Tim wanted.
    “I’m going to get soaking wet, I suppose. It doesn’t matter. Come on, buddy. You need this. You’ll feel so much better with all that mud out of your fur.”
    Lance heaved a long, heartfelt sigh. Tim moved toward him, apparently intent on picking Lance up. Well, if this had to happen, at least Lance could retain some dignity. He pulled away and jumped into the tub himself. It wasn’t the most graceful maneuver he’d ever made, with his front left paw stiff and foreign feeling, and water went everywhere.
    Tim laughed. The sound sparkled off the bathroom tiles. “Okay, that works. Holy cow.” He threw some towels on the floor to sop up the spill and knelt beside the tub. “Let’s put your leg up here. Come on.” He gently tugged Lance’s pink leg up to rest on the edge of the tub. Now it was pink and wet. Lovely. But Tim dried it off carefully with a towel and that pink wrap was probably made out of alien space plastic or something, because it looked like it had never seen a drop of water in its life.
    Tim had his hands on Lance—one on the pink leg and one on the opposite shoulder. He stared as he knelt by the tub. He was wearing a funny little smile.
    “You have the biggest, bluest, most beautifulest eyes ever, do you know that?” He was using the kind of voice his mother used when she talked to baby Samantha.
    Lance huffed.
    “Wanna know something? I’ve never had a dog before. I always wanted one, but my mom didn’t want one in the house.” Tim stroked Lance’s temple, right by his ear. The warm water did feel good after the cold and the snow . Between that and the steam and Tim’s rumbly voice, it was hard not to relax. The fingers on his temple felt so good, like they were soothing away a headache he didn’t know he had. And he hadn’t noticed before, but Tim had a very deep voice. Maybe he’d never noticed it because Tim had always been nervous in the presence of Lance, the cop. Lance, the dog, really liked the tone of it, the way its low register tickled his ears, and the loving cadence to it.
    Yeah, he’d be real loving if he knew who you were.
    “And then when I worked for the nursery, I lived above the owner’s garage, and he wouldn’t let me have any pets there either! What a meany, huh?” Tim took Lance’s head in both hands and looked into his eyes. “We don’t like Marshall, do we? No we don’t!”
    Lance barked in agreement. He wasn’t easily won over by humans in any case, so not liking this Marshall wasn’t much of a stretch.
    “Probably for the best, though, since I spent most of my time working in the greenhouse. Not much of a life for a dog.” Tim poured shampoo into the palm of his hand and began to work it into Lance’s fur. “Hope this is okay. I don’t have any dog shampoo. Guess I’ll have to pick some up, huh?”
    Lance was trying to focus on the tidbits of information Tim was dropping—nursery, greenhouse, Marshall—and not on Tim’s hands, but it was hard. The way they worked over his soapy fur, the nails lightly scratching, felt incredible. His eyes went half-lidded and his tongue lolled out. Christ. No