Page 88 of Love on the Line

“Fuck.” Wyatt shook his head and shuddered. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Goober sneezed and blinked. Poor thing didn’t understand what had happened.

Wyatt yanked on the leash. “We better take him home and scrub him down or something.”

“Wait, let me check his eyes. I think it only got his side, though.” Gagging, she bent down to make sure he didn’t have any spray in his eyes. “He’s good. Let’s go.”

They took off at a fast pace. No stopping to smell any bushes on this walk.

“God, my truck is gonna reek.” Wyatt huffed. “I’m going to have to get it professionally defumigated.”

“I think you mean fumigated. Defumigated isn’t—”

“Are you serious? You’re correcting my grammar at this moment?” He shot her a sidelong look.

She closed her mouth. He had a point.

He cinched the leash, and Goober stopped. “Why don’t you go ahead of us. No sense in both of us smelling this stench the whole way.”

“Good idea, thanks. I’ll look up what to clean him with when I get to the truck.”

He tossed her the keys and then covered his nose.

She hurried back to the truck and googled what to use on skunk spray. Glancing at the carpet and upholstered seats, she frowned. If Goober rode home inside, it might never smell the same again, professional fumigation or not. She snatched a couple of towels from behind the seat and rounded the truck.

Wyatt approached as she tossed them into the bed. “What are you doing with those?”

“I’m gonna ride in the back with him so he doesn’t destroy your truck. It’s not that far, and if you go slow, I can hold him so he doesn’t try to jump out.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll just take it somewhere to get the smell out.”

She shrugged. “You didn’t ask me. I offered. My aunt paid to have a car that she’d bought from a smoker professionally fumigated. The smell came back. It’s not worth chancing.”

Wyatt looked down at Goober. “Well, then you drive, and I’ll ride with him.”

“No way. This truck is huge. I’m not comfortable behind the wheel. Let’s just go already.”

Wyatt scratched his head, and finally nodded. “All right. Thanks.”

He dragged the pet steps over to the tailgate and Goober climbed them and got into the bed. Anne covered him with a towel. Probably wouldn’t be enough to keep the stink from getting on her, but better than nothing. She gripped his collar, keeping her head as far away as possible and breathing through her mouth.

“We need to stop for apple cider vinegar, dish detergent, baking soda, and rubber gloves,” she said as Wyatt passed her.

He cringed. “They’re gonna love me in the store. Bet no one asks for my picture with them this time.”

When they got back to Wyatt’s condo, he pulled into the car wash area. Anne’s throat burned, and her eyes still watered from the fumes, but they’d made it in one piece, and at least Goober hadn’t been bitten in the attack.

Wyatt grabbed a bucket and used the hose to mix water in with the vinegar. Anne read off the instructions she’d found online and they both worked, saturating and scrubbing the dog. He shook, and she held up an arm and shut her eyes. Now the scent of vinegar filled her head.

“You okay?” Wyatt placed a hand on her arm.

“Yeah.” She blinked and nodded. “We got this.”

After another round of scrubbing with the dish detergent, Wyatt hosed down Goober and dropped his bone onto the grass next to the concrete. The dog shook again three more times, flopped to the ground, and laid his head on his paws. He had to be bushed.

Anne hoisted herself up on the open tailgate and let out a long breath. This might have been the craziest day of her life. Her arms ached, her butt was sore from sitting on the hard bed of the truck, and she had a bag full of squashed food and dirty plates still to clean.

Wyatt slowly approached, stopping in front of her at eye level. He rested his hands on the gate, one on each side of her. Raising his head, he hitched an eyebrow. “For the record, will you concede that Goober did in fact get into some trouble?”

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