“She hit me. Hard,” Micah says rubbing his cheek with a bemused expression. “It kind of hurt.”

“She rubbed her cheek on his chest like a sleepy cat. “I like when you hold me.”Dios, she was going to break his heart. “I like when I hold you too.”

“Bryce looked at his mom, “I’m sick of talking to this old coot. Hit me with another present.”She tossed him one, hard. It hit him in the chest. He mock glared at his mom. “You said hit me,” she smiled.-Bryce and Amy”

“I smashed his hand as hard as I could with the Wiffle bat."Ow!" he screamed.Carson was rubbing his red palm, inspecting it for damage. "That hurt," he shrieked. "You really hurt me.""Right back at you," I said. "Good-bye Carson."He frowned, massaging his hand, the big baby. "I just wanted to end this nicely.""Yeah?" I cocked the bat up to hit him again. "Well, this time you don't get what you want.”

“How old are you, Billie?” “Thirty-three.” “With such innocent eyes for a cutthroat Illicit reporter.” She studied his expression, found it sincere. “Despite rumors to the contrary, not all of us fit the hard-hitting mold.” “I see that.” He reached up and brushed an errant strand of hair from her cheek, a tender gesture that caught her completely off-guard. “And I like it.”

“And then he'd rub his cheeks with cold cream because he'd just shaved and the tears stung.”