“Clubs rattled behind them. Skeet Cooper rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and rose from the bench. “Looks like Kenny’s caddy’s here.”Dallie lifted an eyebrow as his son stepped up on the tee carrying Kenny’s bag.Ted smiled. “Sorry I’m late. Mom made me eat breakfast. Then she started fussing with my hair, don’t ask me why.”Dallie took the driver Skeet handed him. “Funny you didn’t mention that you were going to caddy for Kenny today.”“Must have forgot.” Ted smiled and shifted the bag. “I told Skeet.”Dallie shot Skeet an annoyed look that didn’t bother Skeet one bit. Kenny gestured toward the tee. “Be my guest. I believe in showing respect for the elderly and the infirm.”

“Shooting skeet eight hours a month was excellent training for them. It trained them to shoot skeet.”

“It felt as if maybe the curse had lifted, the tide had shifted, but then the breeze picked up and a skeet took a very unfortunate turn. Seconds later, Angus was pulling his shot far to the right, shooting a large hole in the second-story galley not ten feet above Marcus's head.”

“Steeling herself, she rose out of her chair, looped her arm around Kenny’s neck, and planted herself in his lap.He lifted an eyebrow. “Have I missed something?” She curled her mouth into what she hoped was a seductive smile and tried to speak without moving her lips. “Kiss me at once.”“No,” he said indignantly.“Why not?”“Because I don’t like your attitude.”She had been a bit bossy, but that was only because she was nervous. “I apologize.”His eyes settled on her mouth. “Okay, I’ll kiss you.”The burly man turned away, and she immediately ejected from Kenny’s lap.”

“I always found strange comfort that the American propensity for mixing alcohol and firearms cut across racial, socioeconomic, and cultural divides, from rural redneck to ghetto gangbanger to skeet-shooting blue blood.”

“You just couldn’t wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?” Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in place.“No, I—I was checking for wounds,” I stumbled. I wouldn’t meet his gaze.“I’m sure.” He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. “What’s that?” He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. “Is that a wedding ring?”“No, engagement.” I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. “I’m not married yet.”“I’m not too late, then.” He smiled and settled back in the bed.“Too late for what?” I asked.“To stop you, of course.” Still smiling, he closed his eyes.”