Mop loped over and stuck his head into my laundry basket. He pulled his head out and grinned at me, a lacy pink thong hanging out of his mouth.
“Dammit, Mop. Drop it!” I ordered.
Sensing a great game in the making, the lunatic dog bounced away from me. I gave chase. He was old, how fast could he really go? He ran in tight circles around me, panting happily and staying just out of reach.
“I’m going to skin you and make you into a rug,” I yelled at his fluffy butt as he evaded my grasp. I lunged for him, lost my balance when I missed and slipped onto my ass. I produced a creative string of profanity that died suddenly when I noticed the pair of work boots that were planted about two inches from my bare feet. I looked up at the gigantic man who was standing over me. He was a wall of broad chest and thick arms wrapped in a T-shirt and worn jeans. I felt like an unlucky quarterback about to be clobbered by a runaway tackle.Mop had noticed the man standing there and bounced over. He barked his greeting, dropping my lacy pink thong onto the man’s boots.