Chasing Her Tail (21 page)

“Watch the car, sweet pea,” he told her, leaning over to pull a small box from his bag on the floor of the passenger seat. “Carlson’s not getting away from me twice.” He popped open the box to reveal a matchbox-sized magnet attached to a small box.

GPS tracker?
Bridget guessed.

Palming the device, Hammer grinned. “Be right back.”

Bridget watched as he walked casually down the street, heading toward the gym parking lot. He turned in and disappeared from view. Shoving her head through the open window, Bridget whined. It was a lot harder to be obedient when they weren’t having sex, especially when she couldn’t see what was going on.

Despite her best efforts, Bridget couldn’t fit anything except her head and one paw out the window. She tried to force another paw through the opening but panicked when she realized that, if she got stuck, she’d have to wait for Hammer to come back and free her. When he finally did, he’d probably laugh his ass off the entire time.

With this possible scenario burning her brain, Bridget retreated back into the car and scrabbled against the door with her paw.

Damn not having opposable thumbs
, she thought for the millionth time since she’d become a dog. She managed to work one of her pads into the opening behind the door lever and jerked her paw toward her. The handle thumped against her paw pad cruelly and the door remained stubbornly closed. Glancing around, she debated changing into a person just for the few seconds it took to open the car door. Unfortunately, the street was busy with other cars and a few pedestrians. If she tried to change, she would be spotted for sure.

With a growl of frustration, Bridget tried again, wedging her paw under the handle and yanking. To her surprise, it opened, tumbling her out onto the pavement. She yelped as she landed in a heap. Standing up, she shook herself off and bumped the door closed with her shoulder. It didn’t appear, from her quick glance around, that anyone had noticed a large dog free herself from the car or, if someone
had
noticed, at least no one seemed interested in her.

Hurrying after Hammer, she stayed alert for the sight or smell of Carlson or his paid muscle. Bridget turned into the parking lot entrance and scanned it, immediately spotting Hammer walking along the closest row of cars, tossing his keys casually in the air. Now that she could see him, her hurried steps slowed to a walk and she watched him carefully.

What are you doing?
the more cautious part of her brain demanded.
He’s been taking
care of himself for a long time now. He doesn’t need you as a sidekick.
Bridget ignored the inner voice, focusing on moving closer to Hammer. She wove between the scattered cars, keeping him in sight, watching as he tossed the keys higher and slightly off-center.

He missed the catch and Bridget heard him make a soft, annoyed sound as he bent to pick them up.

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From her vantage point, she saw Hammer slip a hand beneath the black car he crouched next to before scooping up the dropped keys.

Carlson’s car
, she realized, feeling stupid for not immediately recognizing it.

Hammer walked another ten feet toward the gym entrance and then stopped, dropping his shoulders and giving a short, irritated shake of his head before pivoting on his heel and walking back in the direction he’d come.

It took Bridget several seconds to figure out Hammer was pretending as if he’d forgotten something in the car.

That man should never be a mime,
she thought with an amused huff.
He stinks at this
acting stuff.

Bridget was so entertained by his over-the-top performance that she missed her chance to dart back to the car. Hammer had spotted her. Now she could read his body language just fine—he was
pissed
.

She watched him approach, her tail sinking between her legs.

“How did you get out?” he hissed as he approached. “Come on, let’s go.” Hooking his fingers under her collar, he took long, fast strides across the parking lot toward the street. Bridget had to trot to keep up. “Obviously we need to work on a few basics.

When I say, ‘stay’, I fucking mean ‘stay’. It’s kind of difficult to be inconspicuous when there’s a huge-ass dog following me around instead of staying in the fucking car like she’s supposed to!”

Hammer turned onto the street and headed for his car, still towing Bridget along with him. While her human side was offended by his expectation that she’d brainlessly obey, her dog side wanted to grovel, to slink along almost on her belly and lick his hand in apology. The human in her was also annoyed at the “huge-ass” description.

When they reached the car, Hammer opened the door for her. “How the hell you fit through that window…” he grumbled, trailing off as he stomped around to the other side, opened the door and slid in. He slammed his car door shut hard enough to make Bridget flinch. She curled up in the seat as well as her large size would allow and rested her chin on the console, giving his nearby elbow an apologetic lick.

“Yeah, you better suck up,” he growled, glancing down at her. She was happy to hear an amused edge to his voice. “I have half a mind to buy some dog food. The generic kind.”

Bridget winced and licked him again, adding a pathetic whine.

Starting the car and pulling away from the curb, Hammer grunted.

Sitting up, she tried her last-resort pose—head cocked, paw offered, eyes entreating. Hammer took a corner too fast and she almost fell over.

He laughed. “Fine, fine. Don’t hurt yourself. Just appreciate how easy you have it.”

His hand rumpled her ears.

Oh I do
, she thought, her eyes half-closing in bliss.
I definitely do
.

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Hammer had gotten the grill out again, which Bridget greatly appreciated.

Although it seemed silly to be so interested in food when her life was such a crazy mess, she couldn’t help it. She was starving all the time—especially for meat.

As he cooked, he glanced frequently at the gate. When Micah showed up around seven, Hammer didn’t look surprised. He just offered Micah a burger and asked the question he’d been trying to figure out all day.

“So what’s the connection between a photographer, a missing first-grade teacher, a stray dog and Bart Carlson?”

“You know my work?” Micah asked, obviously stalling.

“Your address, living relatives, occupation, traffic offenses, plus a few odds and ends. I can’t run prints myself but I can get the basics off a name, birth date and social security number. Don’t ask me how I got the last two.” Hammer pushed the plate with the hamburger into his hands. “Here. Eat.”

“Ah.” Micah squeezed ketchup onto his burger. Obviously, like Bridget, his appetite didn’t disappear under pressure. “I thought you might have seen my photography?”

“No.” He made his own burger, shoveling the remaining two onto a plate for Bridget. “I assumed photographer meant weddings, graduation pictures, baby shots—

stuff like that.”

Micah shuddered. “No, thank Christ. I do some commercial work—wildlife mostly—and then artsy shit the rest of the time.”

“You don’t seem too impressed with your own art,” Hammer observed, his mouth quirking up at the corner. “And I do realize that you haven’t answered my question.”

Micah shrugged, swallowing a bite. “I never know if my pictures are any good.

Sometimes people will go nuts about one that I didn’t even want to put in the show and no one will even look at my favorite one of the bunch, one that I could look at for hours.” He looked up at Hammer. “And I was waiting ’til we’re done eating before I told you what was going on. It’s easier just to show you.”

Bridget stared at him. Was he seriously going to tell Hammer? She half hoped it was true and half dreaded Hammer’s reaction to her deception.

Hammer crammed the last half of his burger in his mouth. “Okay, I’m done. Let’s go,” he muttered around the food.

Grinning, Micah took his last bite. “In a hurry?”

“Yeah.” Hammer swallowed. “You guys are driving me nuts.”

Glancing down at Bridget, Micah said, “Well, at least we don’t have to wait for piggy here to finish. Did you even chew?”

Offended, she refused to look at him.

Hammer grabbed Micah’s and Bridget’s empty plates. “Done. Now spill.”

“Fine,” Micah conceded. “But let’s go inside. I don’t want to do this out here.”

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“Do what?” Hammer asked, not moving.

“Some things you need to see to believe,” Micah told him with a small grin, which quickly fell away. “C’mon, Bridget. It’s showtime.”

Bridget trailed along behind the men, not wanting Hammer to know it had been her all along, that she had listened to the confidences he thought he was telling a dog.

I watched him in the shower!
she remembered, whimpering in her brain.
And that was
way
before we had sex.

Hammer, his big body tense, walked behind the other man. Bridget trotted forward a few steps so that she could lick Hammer’s hand, a final apology before he could see her change into her human form and refuse to talk with her ever again. He jumped at the touch of her tongue, his hand fisting before he glanced down and saw it was her. He ran his fingers over her head in a caress and Bridget reveled in it, her final pat from this sweet, strong, sexy, amazing man. If she had been a person at that moment, she would have cried. Since she couldn’t, she just let out a mournful whine.

Once inside, Micah stripped off his shirt.

“What…” Hammer swallowed. “What are you doing?” His voice sounded croaky as, unblinking, he watched Micah unbuckle his belt.

Glancing up from under his shaggy bangs, Micah gave a slow smile. “Getting these out of the way,” he purred, letting his pants drop to the floor.

“Fucking you isn’t going to distract me,” Hammer protested, although he looked very distracted already. Bridget could smell the lust on him, pooling from his pores with his sweat.

Micah hooked his fingers in the waistband of his underwear. “Did I ask you to fuck me?” he asked, and yanked his final piece of clothing down his legs and kicked it away.

Hammer was breathing hard, air pumping in and out of his lungs. “Last night, if I remember right, you asked. In fact, you were begging for it.” He took a single step toward the naked man who was glistening with excited sweat before Micah changed, his body morphing into a dog shape.

Within seconds, he was standing on four paws on the floor, looking up at an open-mouthed Hammer.

Seeing Micah in dog form triggered something in Bridget and she padded over to him. Instinct kicked in and she licked his muzzle, lowering her body and tucking her tail, strangely excited and happy in a dog-like way to see him in this shape.

He stood tall as she fawned over him, the human part of her confused and annoyed at her behavior. When he finally licked her ear, a rush of happiness flooded her and she wriggled with joy. Too soon, he began to change form again, his limbs lengthening until he stood naked in front of Hammer, who hadn’t moved since the first transformation.

“Change, Bridget,” Micah commanded, and Bridget found herself halfway into human form before she realized she was obeying him. Unsure of how to reverse the 113

Katie Allen

change once it had begun, she finished the switch. As she stood in front of Hammer, waiting for him to react, to
move
, her heart pounded in her chest, deafening her.

“Holy fucking balls of fire,” Hammer whispered finally, blinking hard several times. “I’ve finally gone completely insane.”

“You don’t think we’re the crazy ones anymore?” Micah smirked and Bridget reached over and gave his shoulder a shove.

“Leave him alone,” she scolded. “It’s really freaky to find something like this out.

Give him more than five seconds to process.” Turning to Hammer, she asked, “Do you want us to leave for a while?”

He stared at her for a few seconds and finally shook his head. “Don’t go,” he told her, gently running a finger down her temple and cheek. “I don’t get it. You feel so real.”

“I
am
real,” she reassured him, stepping close enough to press herself against him.

“You’re
not
crazy. When I first started to change, I was so sick I thought I was hallucinating.”

Micah made a small noise. “Was it bad?” he asked.

She glanced over at his serious face and shrugged. “Yeah, pretty bad—especially when strange men were chasing me and shooting me with tranquilizers and breaking into my house.” When she saw Micah wince, she relented a little. “But it wasn’t all bad.

I like being able to run fast. Plus, everything seems a little more exciting. Things that would have terrified me before the dog thing are now kind of…thrilling.” She blushed and looked away, not able to meet either of the men’s gazes. “Like last night.”

Hammer’s arms circled her, pulling her tightly against him. She squeaked, unable to breathe. “Sorry,” he said, loosening his grip a little. “So that’s why you have the same name as the dog.”

“Yeah.” She rested her cheek against his chest.

“And that’s why you’re always wearing this.” He ran a finger over the collar around her neck.

“Yeah. Well, that and I kind of like it now,” she admitted and his arms tightened again.

“Looks good on you.” Micah’s voice was so close behind her that Bridget jumped.

“And I’m not all that big on collars.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck above the strip of leather and rhinestones. With a shiver, she tipped her head back and Micah closed his teeth on the curve where her neck and shoulder met.

Her eyes opened a crack and Hammer filled her vision, his face showing a mixture of confusion and wariness and lust.

“We should talk,” she said, trying to shake off Micah’s hypnotizing mouth, but he was persistent. Exasperated, she finally sent an elbow into his stomach. “Ow!” she yelped. It was like elbowing a wall.

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“No,” Hammer said, and Bridget and Micah both went still, waiting. “We’re going to fuck first. If this is just some crazy-time hallucination or whatever, I don’t want to waste it talking. Later. We’ll talk later.”