“Let's do it then." I reached forward and poked his bare chest with two fingers like we were actors in a gangster movie. "You and me,on the slopes, head-to-head,the slalom and the half-pipe.I will kick." Poke. "Your." Poke. "Ass.”

“She poked him in the center of his chest with two fingers to punctuate her words. “You are an unfeeling”—poke —“traitorous”—poke—“mistrusting”—poke—“rude”—poke —“booby!” Every poke turned him mortal, but Lord Maccon didn’t seem to mind it in the least. Instead he grabbed the hand that poked him and brought it to his lips. “You put it very well, my love.”

“Coach Smith poked his head into the dugout. “If you ladies are done with the warm and fuzzies, I’d like you to get your asses on the field with your team.”

“A slow sly smirk formed on Lucas’ lips and Fallon took in a sharp breath. “I'm not playing daddy. I am daddy and you are mommy. Shouldn’t we be making out instead of fighting?” Fallon rolled her eyes, poking him harder in the chest. “get your mind out of the gutter Lucas!” She poked him again, and he took her finger in his hand as he grinned down at her. “Poke me one more time Fallon Parker, and I’ll poke you back, and not with my finger.”

“Are you just gonna stare at Jack or are we gonna go?" Milo asked, poking his head into the bedroom.”

“It looks like an asylum landed here,” Andrew quipped, poking his head out of Oliver’s pocket. “Ooh, I spot an ass-shaped tent.”“What? Seriously?” Sophie said, surprised. However, she was quick to look away. “Oh. You meant that kind of ass. Jeez, Andrew.”