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anyway. Why don’t you let me keep Sweetie at my place?”

“Oh no,” Grace interrupted. “I found her and adopted her. She’s my responsibility.”

“Just hear me out. You could keep Sweetie with you during the day while you’re working at the house on Mandevilla, and she could stay with me over at Jungle Jerry’s, nights, and any other time you need her to. She’d love it there. The whole place is fenced in, so there’s no way she could run off and get hurt. She can sleep in the house with us at night. I’ll fix her a bed right beside Bo’s. He’ll be crazy for her. He’s been bugging me to get him a dog, and I was going to, but then Callie started busting my chops about that, claiming I’d just be doing it to get back at her.”

“I don’t understand how your having a dog affects her,” Grace said.

“Luke’s allergic. Or so he claims. Funny, though. He has this huge Siamese cat, and that doesn’t seem to bother his allergies. The cat hates Bo, scratches him every time it gets a chance.”

“I don’t know…” Grace hugged Sweetie to her chest. “It’s crazy, but I’m already so attached to her. She sleeps on the pillow next to me. And she’s such good company.”

“It’d just be ’til you get your own place,” Wyatt promised. “Think of it as temporary joint custody. But I swear, I won’t pull any of Callie’s custody crap.”

Grace scratched Sweetie’s chin. “No alienation of affection? No bribing her with special dog treats?”

He held up his hand in the Boy Scout pledge. “I’ll never drop her off late for visitation or forget to bring her leash.”

“Well…” Grace sighed. “I guess that will work. If you’re really sure she won’t be an imposition.”

“She won’t be. I can take her home right now, if you want.”

“I’ll just run upstairs and get her stuff,” Grace said. Wyatt held out his arms, and she reluctantly handed Sweetie over.

Five minutes later she was back, having hauled an overflowing black trash bag down the outside stairway from her room.

“All of that? You haven’t even had her a week and she already has more stuff than I do.” Wyatt took the bag and set it on the front seat of the truck.

Grace edged around him and began showing him Sweetie’s belongings. “Her bed is in the bottom here. But, like I said, she likes to sleep with me.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

She frowned. “Is that a line? Somehow it doesn’t sound right, coming from you.”

“I got lines,” Wyatt said. “I’ve got moves, too. I’m a little rusty from lack of practice, that’s all.”

She lifted two stainless steel bowls from the bag and set them on the seat. “Here’s her water bowl, and here’s her food bowl. I put the dog food in here, too. I give her a cup in the morning and a cup in late afternoon.”

“Got it.”

Grace handed him a pink leopard-print leash with lime-green banding. “Here’s her leash. I let her out first thing in the morning. But she won’t go right away. You have to walk her around a little bit, let her sniff things out before she picks her spot.”

He handed the leash right back to Grace. “You keep this one. I’ll get her one that’s a little less, uh, girly.”

“Nothing too butch,” she warned him. “And no camo. Sweetie has standards.” She went on unloading the bag.

“Here’s her Greenies. I give her one last thing at night.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Greenies?”

“They’re supposed to promote healthy teeth and gums. And help with the whole doggie-breath thing.”

“You’re kidding.”

She raised one eyebrow, which shut him up, then continued with her inventory. “Brush.”

“Brush,” he repeated.

“Pillowcase.”

He held up the pink and white striped case with a questioning look.

“It’s the one I usually sleep on,” Grace admitted. “I read that dogs can get separation anxiety. This one smells like me. So she won’t feel like she’s in a strange place. Just put it in her bed, okay?”

“Okay.”

She went back to unloading the bag. “Flea and tick medicine. She gets it once a month.”

“Once a month.”

“Heartworm meds. Again, once a month. I put it in the middle of a little peanut butter sandwich, so she won’t figure out it’s good for her.”

“Peanut butter,” he repeated dutifully, putting the meds back into the trash bag. “Is that it?”

“One last thing,” she promised. “Chew toy.” She reached in the bag and pulled out a nude Ken doll.

Wyatt held the doll up to the light and examined the teeth marks ringing Ken’s overly tanned buttocks.

“Is this supposed to be symbolic?”

“Not at all,” Grace said. “The first night I brought her home, Sweetie was rooting around in the closet in my bedroom and she found it in a box of my old toys and dolls. She loves Ken. It’s the cutest thing, the way she carries him around in her mouth.”

“You couldn’t let her chew up a Barbie doll?” He handed the doll back to her.

“She likes Ken,” Grace said, with a shrug.

He handed the doll back to her. “If it’s just the same to you, I’ll get her a ball or a squeaky cat or something else to chew on while she’s at my place.”

Grace looked down at the Ken doll. “I’ll take this over to Mandevilla and keep it there for her.”

“Good.” Wyatt propped the little dog on his forearm. “Say good night, Sweetie.”

Grace caressed the dog’s ears and gave her one more head scratch, then looked up at Wyatt.

“Call me if you need me. Really. Like, if she won’t sleep or she starts that scratching-at-the-door-and-whining thing, I could come over and calm her down.”

Wyatt cupped Grace’s chin in his hand. “She’ll be fine. Stop worrying. I’ll bring her over to you at Mandevilla first thing in the morning.” He set the dog down gently on the passenger seat and closed the door.

“I’m there by eight,” Grace said, following him around to the driver’s side. “You won’t forget to give her the pillowcase, right?”

He got into the truck and leaned

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