Page 62 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell (Rock Canyon, Idaho 7)

“This was your idea, Eric Henderson, and if you get us arrested—”

“Quiet, woman!”

Gracie grabbed him by the nipple and twisted. He let out an unmanly yip as she pulled away from him and climbed out of the pool. He didn’t have time to truly admire her small, tight ass or the nipped-in waist above it before he heard heavy breathing outside the shack. The door rattled, and the sound of scratches against the wood told him Melvin had let Brutus out to run the property. Deep growls and whimpers dissolved into frantic barking.

Shit, we really are humped.

Gracie was just pulling her shirt on and faced the door. Her eyes widened, and she turned toward him, glaring and pointing.

He got the silent message. It was up to him to fix it.

He climbed out of the pool and pulled his boxers, clothes, and boots on. He figured that he had minutes before Melvin came out to investigate why his dog was having a meltdown.

Getting on his jacket, he faced Gracie, keeping his voice low. “I’m going to distract them, and while I’m doing that, you run back to the car.”

“What? That’s stupid. We should just open the door and holler at Melvin. He might just make us pay for the use of the tub—”

“Or, he’s pissed enough to call the cops and they call your parents to bail you out, thus proving your mother right.”

She paused, her cheeks draining of color. “Yeah, you better get your ass running, Skip.”

He walked over and grabbed her around the waist and kissed her hard. “For luck.”

“You’re not going to war, idiot! You’re outrunning a dog.”

“Hey, it’s a big fucking dog.”

She pushed him away, laughing. “God, I wish I had a video camera with a night vision. I so want to record this and put it on YouTube.”

“You’ll pay for that.”

Eric took a deep breath as he went to the door. “Okay, flick off the light.”

She did as he asked, and the room went pitch-black. As if sensing he was ready to run, the dog started growling again.

Eric gripped the doorknob, and with a quick jerk, he threw the door open, pushing the dog out of the way.

And he took off, his boots clomping against the crunchy snow. He could hear the dog behind him, panting. Melvin shouted something, but Eric kept running.

Suddenly, a heavy weight crashed against his back, and he hit the cold, hard ground with a curse.

He didn’t move as the dog stood above him, growling. The hot air of its breath tickled his bare head and he realized he’d left his hat in the shed.

This was a bad fucking idea.

Suddenly, he heard the slam of a door, and Gracie’s cry: “Hey, puppy, puppy!”

The dog’s weight was suddenly gone, and he looked up in time to watch her running her ass off toward the fence, the huge beast hot on her heels.

“Move, you idiot, move!” she hollered.

Eric climbed to his feet and did what she said. The dog seemed to have a hard time deciding who to chase, since every time he started after one, the other would whistle or yell.

Melvin was coming down the hill, huffing and puffing in the dark.

“Who the hell is out there? We shoot trespassers, you know!”

Gracie was climbing up the chain link, which left only Eric on the ground. He dived for the opening in the fence and had managed to squeeze in past his ass before the dog grabbed a hold of his pant leg with his teeth.

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