15. Rowan
Author’s Note:
Tails are a glorious thing, so don’t mock it until you try it.
I’m just saying. Rowan has a teeny tiny sad backstory regarding his tail, but you know Milo loves him just as he is.
Also, I was tempted to insert another sex scene in this chapter (my boyfriend has been very inspirational), but I guess they should talk about feelings first. Don’t worry, there will be nothing so trite as rose petals with their declarations of love.
ROWAN
Milo didn’t mind that I had a tail. Milo liked my tail. Milo was also currently snoring like a chainsaw, pressed up against my side, his hand resting on my chest and his mouth pressed to my skin. I think he might even have been drooling on me a bit.
I really liked it.
We were going to end up sticking together, and I knew I should get up and clean us off. And I would in a moment, but Milo calm and quiet and relaxed against me was a really nice feeling.
Milo grumbled something unintelligible in his sleep. Even when passed out, the man couldn’t stop talking. I wasn’t sure when the constant chatter went from annoying to cute, but at some point it had.
My parents were mated, and so was my older sister.
It’s not like I didn’t know how it happened.
I just didn’t expect it to happen to me.
But there was no denying that what I felt for Milo went beyond friendship.
It went beyond having a few rolls in the hay together, too.
I felt more protective and more possessive toward him than I had ever felt toward anyone I’d dated.
And he hadn’t minded my tail.
I’d only revealed that part of myself to one other human, and the result had not been good. I’d been dating the guy for two years, and I’d thought he was open-minded and kind-hearted. Then I’d shown him my tail during sex.
It had not gone well.
He’d freaked out, and he’d refused to believe that I was a hellhound.
He’d called me a delusional, deformed freak.
I hadn’t really thought the guy was my mate, but I thought we had something wonderful going.
I had begun to hope that we had a future, despite my family warning me that he wasn’t right for me.
It turned out that they were right, and I’d never shown my tail to another human. Until Milo, that is.
I must have been squeezing him a bit too hard, because he mumbled, “I got you, boo,” and patted my chest, then he went right back to snoring. Loudly.
I tried to carefully take my arm out from under his head, ready to quietly roll away so he could sleep and I could clean us up.
Only the slight movement of my arm seemed to trigger some sort of stage ten clinger mode, because suddenly Milo was gripping onto me even harder, and he threw his leg over mine.
“I gotta get up,” I whispered.
Milo grumbled and squeezed, and he might have even pulled out a few chest hairs with one hand. Ouch.
“Milo, honey, I gotta clean us up,” I whispered.
The snoring stopped and his eyes shot open. He was staring at me intensely, and I tried to figure out what the heck I’d done.
“Awww, boo, you called me honey.” He patted my chest again, let me disentagle myself from him, and promptly went back to snoring.
That was okay. I would clean us up, then I would snuggle in for a snooze as well. We’d had a late night, and there was plenty more work to be done when we woke up.
The next few days flew by in a rush of activity.
We ended up volunteering with one of the shelters that was handling the dogs, which enabled us to make sure that they were being treated well and didn’t somehow end up back in fighting rings.
Not that we didn’t trust the people we’d set up to handle things; we did, but it soothed something in both of us to see what happened to the dogs.
Plus, I could tell when a prospective owner came in who had less than stellar motivation for wanting a dog.
We didn’t get many, but we did get one or two, and I warned them off easily enough.
Baby stayed for another night with the vet, and then we were able to bring her home to Milo’s.
He insisted I stay over to help take care of “our child,” although Baby slept through the night just fine.
She was actually one of the sweetest dogs I’d ever met.
She was gentle, easygoing, and loved cuddling up with us to watch television.
It was all very homey and domestic. Milo and I spent a lot of time talking. We covered everything from our families to our favorite movies, and I (thank goodness) did most of the cooking and managed to keep Milo out of the kitchen.
The days were filled with volunteering and visiting his “crew” in the retirement home, and the evenings were spent snuggling with Baby and then heading to bed and having intimate moments together. It was all pretty perfect.
So of course there was bound to be a hiccup or two.
“Don’t you think Baby needs a sibling?” Milo asked as we walked into the pet shelter.
They’d finally closed down the puppy mill, and there was an influx of new dogs to be rehomed. Milo had been making noise about getting another dog since he’d heard.
“No,” I answered. “I thought we agreed we would only give another day or two to the shelter before we moved on to the neo-Nazi problem.”
“What does that have to do with Baby having a sibling?” Milo asked.
“Why does Baby need a sibling?” I countered.
“Fine. Maybe I just want another baby.”
“I think two Baby’s would be one too many. They’d get confused when we called their names,” I responded.
Milo seemed to think that was hilarious, and he was still laughing when we got inside.
We parted ways, because the head of the organization liked me vetting the applicants and they liked Milo working with the dogs.
He definitely had a way with them, and he didn’t even need to growl to get them to listen.
We were halfway through the day when I heard a lot of “Awww”’s from the back where the dogs were.
I really shouldn't have been surprised when Milo called my name.
I headed into the back, and most of the dogs looked at me warily.
They recognized a bigger, stronger predator in their presence, and they knew better than to call my attention to them.
There were a few sweet dogs who whined and just wanted my affection, and I thought that if we needed another dog, one of those might do.
“Rowan! I found our dog!” Milo cried out.
He was surrounded by three other volunteers, and I couldn’t see the dog they were all gushing over. They parted ways when I got there, however, and I had my first look at it.
I wasn’t even sure it was a dog.
Maybe it was half dog and half rat? Whatever it was, it was ugly. It had tangled, matted hair, it was small enough to be held in Milo’s arms, and its tongue was literally hanging out the side of its mouth, even when that mouth was closed.
When I reached Milo, the little beast had the nerve to growl at me.
“Aww, boo, he likes you!” Milo gushed, petting the little monster.
I raised my lip and growled back, only it didn’t have the desired effect. Rather than cowering in fear like any dog with any sense would do, the little rat-dog growled louder.
“Aww! You gotta hold her!” Milo announced, and before I knew what was happening, he’d plopped the dog into my arms.
It immediately bit down on my hand, growling and worrying at my skin. Apparently the tongue hanging out the side of the mouth was because this pup had no teeth left, because there were only gums clamped down on my skin.
“Isn’t she adorable?” Milo cooed.
The dog was now trying to play tug of war with my hand, which was not a comfortable feeling at all. Milo got his face right up to the little beast, and before I could warn him to back away before he got bit, the dog let go of my hand and licked his face.
“Who’s a cute little puppy? Hmmm? You are! Such a beautiful dog!” Milo baby-talked.
“I don’t think it qualifies as beautiful,” I said.
The dog turned, lunged at my face, and continued its rabid growling toward me even when Milo took it out of my arms.
“Aww, Rowan doesn’t mean it. Of course you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful that we’ll call you Beauty. Then you’ll never forget what a pretty pup you are,” Milo said, rubbing the little monster until it calmed down.
He continued to pet and coo over the dog all afternoon. If I got close, the little beast growled at me. I wasn’t going to disappoint Milo, though, which is how Beauty ended up coming home with us.
When we walked in the front door, Baby greeted us and cemented her place as my favorite child. She looked at Beauty and then looked at me and cocked her head, as if to say, “What the fuck is that?”
“I know, Baby. It wasn’t my idea,” I answered.
“Baby, meet Beauty, your new sister. You two are going to get along great!” Milo declared.
I hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but what if the two dogs didn’t get along?
Milo put Beauty on the floor, though, and after a wary sniff of each other, Baby went over and took a drink, effectively dismissing Beauty’s existence.
I wished that I could do the same, but Beauty decided to attack my pant leg and was currently growling and trying to rip my jeans.
“Aww, they love each other!” Milo said.
I tried not to kick the little beast off of me, and I just smiled at Milo. The things I was willing to do for love.
Because it was love. The beginning of our relationship had been filled with chaos and adventures, and I’d thought Milo was my mate even then.
Having a few calm days to just relax and work together had cemented the fact in my mind.
Milo was mine. My mate. My perfect match.
I loved him, and maybe I would tell him tonight.
We were going to embark on our next adventure soon, and I wanted Milo to know how I felt about him.
Surely one just didn’t blurt something like that out, though. I’d have to find some special way to say it.
As if reading my mind, my phone started ringing. Not Riley, thank goodness. It was Raina, my oldest sister.
“Hey, sis,” I answered.
“Is it Riley?” Milo asked.
“No, it’s Raina. I’ll make sure you meet her soon, too,” I answered.
“Wait,” Raina said on the phone, “Riley and your boy toy met?”
Milo was already distracted by the dogs, so I stepped outside to answer Raina. I wanted her advice anyway.
“He’s not a boy toy, and he knows about Riley since she showed up in harpy form. He knows about me, too, and he likes me,” I answered. I couldn’t keep the smug tone out of my voice.
“Oh, Rowan, I’m so happy for you,” Raina answered. “Do you think…” She trailed off, but I knew what she was getting at.
“I love him, and yes, I think he’s my mate,” I answered.
I then gushed about Milo for a bit before I got to the point. “I want to do something romantic for him when I tell him I love him. Any suggestions?” I asked my sister.
“Oh, do I have suggestions,” Raina answered.
Good. I was sure she’d have great advice, and I’d be figuring out how to tell Milo I loved him before the week was done.