Page 18 of Silver Brewer

“Right. Freezer fairies are so much better.”

“Exactly.” She chuckles, and I like the sound. Bubbly, popping, like pebbles in a rain puddle, it fits her personality, which reminds me, I think it’s going to rain later. It was in the forecast, and the haze to the sky concerns me. Not for me. I love the rain, but my city-slicker friend here might melt under a mountain downpour.

“So ax throwing? Practicing for murder or got a hot date?”

“Something like that,” she huffs. I stare at her, not liking the idea of her going on a date. “Actually, it’s my sister’s wedding.”

“Planning to kill people at the wedding?” My brows rise higher.

“If only I could,” she mumbles, and I continue to stare. Is she serious? “Actually, ax throwing is on the itinerary of events leading up to the big day.”

“Ax throwing?” I question again. City people are so strange. “Got a date for this ax-throwing wedding?” I don’t know why I ask. I shouldn’t care, and I don’t, but I’m curious. She told me about Marcus, her boyfriend-friend, but she hasn’t mentioned anyone else.

She huffs. “Nope. Single as a Pringle, remember, and going stag.” My lips twist, fighting the smile and the ripple of pleasure in my belly as I make a mental note of what she says. I don’t know why I make a note. I don’t care that she’s single. I don’t.

“I guess I could teach you how to throw an ax.”

“Really?” She sits up from the log she’s been perched against. “It’s all the rage lately, and there’s a bar dedicated to it. I’d love to kick some ass there one night. Show them all.”

Her enthusiasm grows, and I wonder who them all is, but I don’t ask, too surprised by her first comment. “All the rage?”

“Yep. It’s replacing darts as the new bar sport.”

I should tell Billy. He might want to consider it for Blue Ridge Microbrew and Pub. Letty sets down her coffee, which she hasn’t drunk, and lifts both arms over her head, cupping her fists together as if she’s going to toss something. She lets out a hefty grunt as she throws her imaginary ax. Then she sighs in relief as if the weight of the world went with the toss.

“I think you might need help with your technique.”

“There’s a technique?” Her eyes open wide, and I can’t help the rumble climbing up my throat. I laugh. Her eyes widen more. “Was that a laugh? Did Giant Harrington just chuckle?”

She’s teasing me, and I clamp my lips as if I’ve given her too much.

“I like it,” she says, her voice softening, and she brushes a wisp of hair behind her ear. Her soft brown tresses are piled on top of her head today, and she looks different again. Business suit to blue jeans—I like her in this attire better. My eyes flip down to her knees.

“How are the knees today?”

“Sore.” She glances at the cut in her pants. “But I’ll live.” Her exhale hints at worse things in life, and I know all too well what she means.

“So…ax throwing after breakfast?”

“Sure thing.” I sigh with relief as I’ve dodged the ax of discussing last night.

8

Ax throwing

[Letty]

A battle cry bellows from me along with the thrust of releasing the ax.

I miss the tree completely.

“That was…” Giant’s voice drifts.

“Not good,” I mutter. Giant chuckles, and the sound makes my belly flutter. I meant what I said earlier. I like his laugh—deep, rich, rumbly. We’ve been at this for a bit, and each time I toss, he steps away. Way away.

“At least you’re nearing the tree,” he states, coming up behind me.

“Hardy-har,” I tease, but he isn’t wrong. My throws have been wild. “I need to get this.”