Page 123 of Love Without Control

“Uh, I wasn’t planning on it. I know you like to get kinky, but damn,” I replied, walking into the living room and surveying the scene with widened eyes.

Brightly colored toys littered the room, and there was something that looked suspiciously like a paper napkin shredded into a million pieces beside the coffee table. My husband sat on his butt with his legs splayed while a small, light-brown puppy tugged at one of his socks. To top it all off, an even smaller kitten rested on top of his head, hissing to the room at large. Dane’s hair was a flyaway mess, and I could read the desperation in his brown eyes when he spotted me.

“Help. I’ve been duped.”

I burst into laughter just as the pup finally worked off one of my husband’s socks and pranced around the room with it in his mouth, the pride evident on his cute little face.

“You’ve been what?”

“Duped,” Dane said. “Swindled. Scammed. Played for a fool.” He pointed an accusing finger at the puppy. “That one started it with his waggly tail and puppy dog eyes. Acting all sweet and shit.”

“Oh,” I said, watching said tail swing like a banner flag above the dog’s furry body.

“And then there was Catzilla here,” he growled, pulling the kitten from his head and staring at it before cradling it against his body. “Ohhh, this one was allmeow, meow, take me homewith her teeny little paws on the window.”

His words were snippy, but the way he was holding the baby cat and stroking its sweet head...Seriously, is there anything hotter than a man with a gentle hand for a fur baby? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

“So you’re telling me you got swindled by these two little cuties?” I asked, picking up the pup and looking down into his precious face.

Dane snorted. “They had help in the form of that demon woman, Mrs. Starrett.”

I cracked up laughing again at his description of the sweet old lady. “Mrs. Starrett is an absolute doll. She was one of the first people to hire me for a freelance logo design,” I said, noticing the bag bearing the shelter’s design sitting on the floor. My heart throbbed with love for my husband, and my voice rasped low. “You rescued these little ones?”

“Yeah,” Dane admitted. “I wanted to cheer you up. I went to deliver some cookies, and then…” He waved a hand around the room. “Thenthishappened. They. Are. Terrorists.”

Setting the puppy down, I crawled to my husband and took the kitten from him, also putting her on the floor. The two promptly began wrestling in a ball of fluff, fighting over Dane’s white sock.

I crawled onto his lap, straddling his hips before kissing the ever-loving hell out of him. He looked a little dazed when I pulled back.

“Um, so I bring two feral beasts home and get rewarded like that? Because I’m sure I could find a rabid raccoon or something for your next gift.”

“I love them, and I love you,” I told him. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”

He tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. “Don’t apologize, Wildcat. You know I don’t like it when you hide your feelings with me.”

I glanced over at the playful animals. “What are their names?”

“They don’t have names yet. They were new additions to the shelter, but they’ve had all their shots and everything. The cat is a girl, and the pup is a boy.”

“Hmmm,” I said, tilting my head to the side and inspecting them. The dog had won the battle for the sock, and the little cat was now creeping around, sniffing every corner of the room with her curious nose. “Let’s think about it. We’ll have to come up with something that fits them.”

Three days later, we were no closer to coming up with names for our new family members.

“Dillweed and Draco?” Dane asked as I pulled a pan of lasagna from the oven.

I shook my head, knowing he was teasing. He adored those two little rascals as much as I did. “Stop trying to give them your nicknames. Where are they now?”

“In their room. I don’t even know why we bought them their own beds because they always cuddle up in the same one.” We’d designated one of the empty downstairs bedrooms for the animals.

“Let’s take a swim while the lasagna rests,” I said, taking his hand and leading him outside.

When we came back in thirty minutes later, we stared at the scene in disbelief. “How the hell did he get up there?” Dane breathed, nodding to the puppy on the countertop. The little toot had destroyed the lasagna, and the blond fur of his face was stained red. The kitten was snooping around below him, snapping bites of meat and noodles from the air as his partner in crime dropped them.

“No clue,” I said, grabbing my phone to take a quick video of the carnage before plucking the pup from the counter. “Why are you so bad?” He answered with a lick to my face.

“I’ll order a pizza,” Dane sighed. “It should be here by the time we get this mess cleaned up.”

The kitten was a much more precise eater than the puppy, so while I wiped her face with a wet cloth, Dane bathed the naughty little dog in the bathtub.

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