Truly, Madly, Like Me - Jo Watson Page 0,26

trying desperately to kill time. But time felt like it was murdering me. Pulling my phone out I checked my step count. Only 2,476 steps! God, it felt like I was walking miles out here. Suddenly, I felt a jerk. My phone fell from my hand, so did the leash, and Satan started running.

“Stop!” I yelled after him, as I picked my phone up. “Stop!” I shouted as I tore down the street after him at breakneck speed. I hated this dog. He had been nothing but trouble since I’d discovered him on the side of the road. He left the main street and turned down a small alley.

“Get back here!” I shouted as he gained speed with those big, black, bounding legs. And then suddenly he turned sharply and he was gone, disappeared into a small open door.

“Shit!” I hissed under my breath. I made the same sharp turn, and without thinking, raced into the shop after him, jumping over an orange sign as I went.

“OH, CRAP!” I yelled as I entered and saw the large shelf in front of me. I tried to put on brakes but the soles of my shoes skidded across the floor, making a loud squeaking noise as they went. Flapping my arms in the air, I couldn’t stop my forward motion. Like skidding on ice. The floor was just sweeping me away as if it was . . . wet?

It was wet! It was soapy and wet. My legs lost their footing and finally I tumbled to the floor and connected with something hard. I crawled onto my hands and knees. A spilt bucket lay on the floor in front of me, and there was water everywhere!

I reached for something and pulled myself up, and that’s when I noticed I wasn’t alone. A man holding a mop stood on the other side of a counter looking very pissed off.

“Shit,” I mumbled and then gave the man a small smile.

He did not smile back.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” I took a step back and as I did, more disaster struck.

CHAPTER 12

There was nothing I could do as I stood there helplessly and watched the DVDs fall off the shelf and hit the floor like hailstones. Every time I thought it was done, another one toppled off and landed on the floor by my feet. The man and I looked at each other while the slim boxes fell around us, and when it was finally over, we both looked down at the mess at my feet. Our eyes must have lingered on the floor for exactly the same amount of time, because when I finally looked up again, he looked up too.

“Sorry. I’ll help you put them back,” I offered quickly.

But he said nothing. Instead, he simply stared at me. And then something curious happened. His eyes seemed to drift down to my chest area. His face reddened slightly and after lingering there for a second too long, he looked away and cleared his throat.

“It’s okay,” he said, moving off, sounding defensive now. He bent down and started picking up some of the DVDs. Why was he suddenly acting like this?

I looked down at my chest and that’s when I realized I had two big, round wet patches around my boobs. The rest of my shirt was somehow dry. I pulled my shirt away from them, but there was just no way of hiding what was going on there. It was as if I had two bright beacons on my chest drawing your eye in.

“It was the dog,” I said, trying to draw attention away from me and my wet boobs. “He ran in here and . . .” Wait, where was the bloody dog?

“Satan?” I swung around and looked for him.

The man in the store turned and raised a brow in query.

“Uh . . . like Santa’s Little Helper but . . .” I started.

He nodded. “I get it. Still, not sure I would name my dog that.”

“Not my dog,” I barked and then walked around the shelf to see if I could find him. And there he was, lying in a puddle of water as if trying to cool himself down. I marched up to him and grabbed the leash.

“Naughty dog! Naughty!” I scolded, and then pulled him to his feet. The man’s eyes widened when he saw him and I quickly shook my head.

“He’s harmless,” I said, and then quickly corrected, “Well, not totally harmless, as you can see. But he won’t