Page 30 of Never Kiss Your Neighbors

“There’s a skunk in my yard. Wyatt’s chasing it out.”

Cam comes over the fence the same way Wyatt did, and quickly scopes out the action before turning to me, taking my arms in his big hands and assessing me. “Are you okay? You smell okay.”

I grin and nod. “Gee, thanks. Yes, I’m fine.”

“What about Goldfish?”

“Inside, luckily.”

“Great.”

He releases me, and I feel an immediate pang of disappointment.

He has a shirt on for a change, but of course, it’s almost fully unbuttoned, adding to the feeling that I’ve somehow ended up in the middle of one of their videos. Today, it’s a skunk battle!

Cam heads toward the side of the house, following Wyatt around the corner, and both of them disappear into the darkness. With the skunk out of sight, I hurry over to the porch and grab my phone. Using its flashlight, I trail after them, and find them both near the part of the fence that faces the street.

“He’s gone,” Wyatt says. He props the broom against the house and scans the ground with his light. “I’ll block the hole for tonight, and we can come back tomorrow and do a more thorough job.” He picks up one of the large rocks that forms the border of a flower bed and wedges it against the hole in the fence.

“We’ll check to see if there are any other holes, too,” Cam says. “Wire mesh will work well to keep the critters out.”

“Or we can find a black cat with a white stripe on its back that the skunk can fall in love with,” Wyatt says.

When I give him a confused look, he says, “Pepé Le Pew?”

I snort out a laugh. “Of course. I should have thought of that. I guess I’m just tired.”

Cam puts an arm around me and rubs my shoulder in a way that’s meant to be encouraging, but ends up making me long for more of his touch.

He keeps his hand there, rubbing his thumb into a tense muscle as we return to the patio, where the skunk made a bigger mess than I thought.

“What a little vandal!”

“Guess he wanted to help with your gardening.” Wyatt stoops to set the pot upright, and Cam joins him, both of them scooping up handfuls of dirt and returning it to the pot.

“I think it’ll be okay,” Wyatt says.

“You don’t have to do that,” I tell them.

“Already done.” Cam stands, rubbing his hands on the sides of his shorts to brush off the dirt.

“Thank you both very much for your help tonight,” I say. “I didn’t know what to do. It was blocking my path to the door, and I don’t have the key to the front door on me.”

“You can always call on us,” Wyatt says.

“I really appreciate it. I’ll have to make you some chicken nuggets or something, as a thank you.”

Cam tilts his head to one side, and something in his expression tells me he’s about to cause trouble.

“Or you could give us each a thank-you kiss,” he says with a wicked grin.

CHAPTER21

WYATT

As I’m giving Cam the dirtiest of dirty looks—because why is he suggesting Stella repay a kindness with kisses she most likely doesn’t want to give—something in her expression stops me.

She’s considering it.

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