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No, that wasn’t quite right. With Lyssa, every moment was better than the last. London had been fun from start to finish. Even in the office, when she was there, he never stopped smiling all day.
But when she directed him to pull onto a gravel road surrounded on both sides with tall eucalyptus trees, he looked at her in disbelief. “Axe throwing?”
She beamed. “I read about it on the Internet, and it sounds like so much fun. We’re going to throw axes at tree stumps.”
He actually felt himself gape. “Seriously? You didn’t have someone plant a sign here as a joke? This is a real thing?”
“People go to a rifle range.” She shrugged. “Think of this as an axe-throwing range.”
It was cool and windy on the central coast, and only one other car sat in the dirt parking lot. Check-in was in what looked like an old-fashioned saloon, with rocking chairs on a long front porch and swinging doors. Racks of postcards and a variety of axes for sale packed the interior.
A shaggy-haired man in suspenders stood behind the counter. “Howdy, folks.”
Cal couldn’t help but feel like they’d stepped through a time warp.
“We’d like to do axe throwing for two.” Lyssa smiled broadly.
“Have you thrown axes before?” the man asked.
“Nope,” Lyssa said, smiling and shaking her head. “But it sounds like fun.”
“It sure is.” He gave them a wide grin. “Here’s how it works.” He went through a long-winded explanation that involved never throwing your axe underhand in case you accidentally chopped into your thigh—underhand was obviously for experts—and never throwing your axe at your partner when their back was turned. Cal barely stopped himself from asking if that meant you could throw an axe at your partner when they were looking.
When Cal took out his credit card, Lyssa held up her hand. “My idea, my treat. And don’t worry,” she said in a reassuring tone, “you’re going to love this.”
He’d never have dreamed up anything like this on his own, but her enthusiasm was infectious, and no doubt her enjoyment would be just as infectious, the same way he’d ended up enjoying the sprouts.
“The axes are out by your lane. But remember,” the man said, “no throwing when someone’s downrange. I’ve got a family out there right now. If you hear a whistle, you stop throwing.”
Out the back door, the range was a row of fence posts, almost like hitching posts, with the tree stumps twelve feet away. Cal felt the weight of one of the axes and immediately said, “We need to see if he has lighter axes.”
She hefted one. “These aren’t heavy at all.” Then she shot him a look. “But if they’re too heavy for you, by all means, feel free to ask for something lighter.”
“I was thinking about you.”
“Cal…” There was a clear warning in her voice, but he was only being logical.
“What if you strain something?”
She gaped at him, her breath a big huff. “You can’t be serious.”
He tried to explain the facts. “Now that you’re pregnant, you can’t do all the stuff you used to.”
She advanced on him, fire in her narrowed eyes. “Do you know how many times you’ve done that today? You don’t want me carrying my own suitcase. You need to make sure I’ve taken my vitamins. Now you think I can’t throw an axe.” She stood toe to toe with him now. “One of the things that made me happy about working for you was that you never treated me like a helpless little girl who needed to be taken care of. But now you don’t seem to think I possess the sense to decide anything for myself.”
“I just want to make sure you and the baby are safe,” he protested.
“We’re both fine,” she snapped. “In fact, the only person who isn’t going to be fine is you, if you don’t start treating me like I’m a capable, intelligent person.”
On the heels of her tirade, the manager gave them the signal they were free to begin, and Lyssa threw the axe as hard as she could.
It embedded itself deeply in the tree stump, quivering from the force of her throw.
Cal gazed at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. “Wow, you’re bloodthirsty, aren’t you?”
Her gaze glittered. “At this moment, I sure am.”
He looked at the tree and then back to her, very impressed. “You hit it dead center.”
“What can I say?” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “I’ve always had great aim.” She handed him another axe. “Your turn.”
Cal threw, the axe flying out of his hand. He didn’t miss by a wide margin, clipping the side of the stump. But Lyssa was the clear winner.
She punched the air. Then she said softly, staring him down, that glowing smile on her lips. “Beat ya.”
