Free Heart Mates by Mary Hughes Page B

open-collared Oxford shirt, a means to taking care of King.
    Almost magically.
    Sophia frowned at the man. Still the same chiseled face, twinkling eyes and thick lustrous hair. He didn’t appear magical, but the only way she could be sure was with her third eye. The witch’s eye wasn’t magic, so she could still do it, but it was uncomfortable. She’d only used it a couple times in the four years she’d been mundane.
    “Welcome to Do Doggie ’Do.” The man’s voice was deep and sure. “How can I help you?”
    She decided the eye wasn’t worth the bother. “I thought this was the Matinsfield Happy Tails pet store.”
    “It is. Currently merging with the Do Doggie ’Do chain of in-store pet grooming boutiques. I’m here to get the franchise off the ground.” He pointed at King. “Cute little puppy. Serious aw factor.”
    King growled.
    “King isn’t a puppy,” she said. “He’s a brave warrior. In fact, he injured himself defending me from a much bigger, um, dog. I was hoping you could see if he needs medical care.”
    The groomer’s lips curved in an almost-smile. “Normally we tell owners to take injured pets directly to a veterinarian. But for you, I’ll wash him down. Feel free to browse while you’re waiting.” He reached for King.
    The dog’s growl turned distinctly chilling. Braced on four paws, his fur rose straight up and his lips pulled back to expose his fangs.
    Apprehensive prickles raised her skin. Did he sense bad things about the man? She cleared her throat. “I’d better come with him.”
    “Certainly.” The groomer’s smile changed, as if secretly pleased. “This way, then.”
    He led them to the glassed-in grooming booth. Just outside it, King balked. Sophia cajoled him and scolded him and finally picked him up and carried him. He stopped fighting at that. He really seemed to like it when she hugged him to her breasts. The sweetie.
    The grooming table was metal topped with grooved vinyl. Clamped to one corner was a tall pole, a short crossarm at the top making a half-T. A leash hung from the arm. It swung uncomfortably like a hangman’s noose.
    The groomer unhooked the loop from the table’s arm. “Let’s just get your little man secured.”
    King growled at the leash and tried to squirm out of Sophia’s arms. He wouldn’t let the man put the loop over his head. She finally had to threaten the dog with leaving him at the store while she searched for Aunt Linda to get him to cooperate.
    Yes, he probably couldn’t understand her. But it worked.
    The groomer dropped the loop over King’s head and tightened it, two fingers between the leash and fur for space. “We’ll leave it a little loose for him,” the man said. Then he led Sophia into an attached room smelling of shampoo where he clipped the leash to a wall hook beside a sink. “Set him in here.” While the groomer washed and rinsed the dog, he adopted a sugary voice. “Who’s a good puppy? Is Kingy-wingy a good boy?”
    A low thrum threaded the air, King growling again.
    The man laughed. “Good news. Just scrapes under the blood. I can treat them.”
    “That’d be great.”
    He unclipped the loop from the wall and indicated Sophia should take King back into the grooming booth and set the dog on the table. The groomer used a foot pedal to raise the table’s height. Then he turned to a selection of bottles on the nearby counter top and picked up an amber one. “Then I’ll give this little fella a trim.”
    King’s low growl developed a distinct knife-edge.
    Sophia tapped his nose. “King, be nice. He’s helping you.”
    Casting a doleful eye at her, the dog quieted.
    Her mind wandered as the man applied antiseptic. Where was Noah? What was he doing? Why wasn’t he the one protecting her from the wolves? Was he thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him?
    She shook her head. Enough mooning over a man she’d just met. She was here to find Aunt Linda. Having exhausted her purely mundane