“I broke his glasses,” she replied.
Dante stepped closer. “That’s not so bad.”
She bit her lip. “They were on his face.”
Dex and Mac’s laughter was drowned out by Dante’s. She was mesmerized at how much younger the handsome man appeared in the carefree state.
“He didn’t complain about it much after that,” she said. “Mainly because he was in the hospital with a broken jaw. And nose.”
The men started laughing again.
“The horseshoe left an indentation on his forehead. Thankfully, it had only been a plastic one, so that indentation eventually faded. Not the scars from the stitches, though.” By this time, Mac and Dex were sitting on the ground, heads in their hands as they shook, while Dante leaned against the fence, holding his stomach. “Funny thing was,” she said. “It formed an upside-down horseshoe. Poor kid gained the moniker, ‘Unlucky Larry.’ Boy, were they right.”
“Amanda, you have to stop…” Dante muttered between fits of laughter.
She smiled. “That’s what my cousin said.”
He snorted and clutched his ribs. “Seriously. I can’t breathe…”
“He said that too.” Amanda couldn’t help herself. Something inside told her that the guy needed this, so she continued with her story, “I tried to visit him in the hospital to tell him how sorry I was, but he scurried off the bed and cowered in the corner as he pointed at me and said, “Nnnnnnn! Nnnnnnn!” His jaw was wired shut, so I took that to mean ‘no’. He avoided me at outings after that.”
Not that she blamed him.
“At least he probably won the match, right?”
Fighting a smile, she slowly shook her head. “He was on my team.”
The guys laughed for another full minute before Dex and Mac retook their stance—a few feet away from their pit—and motioned for her to play.
After Dante wiped his face and inhaled several times, Amanda pushed the past from her brain, stepped into thepit, and careful not to step beyond the foul line, tossed the horseshoe, happy to see it land inside the pitching platform.
“Yes! No maiming,” she said.
Granted, it was still on her side of the court, but at least no one was hit. She stood aside and watched Dante’s fine form as he tossed his shoe and it landed next to the stake.
“One for us,” Dex said.
Amanda didn’t feel like a loser. How could she when she got to watch Dante in action?
For the next ten minutes, she landed four more on the other side of the court, but only two of them were within the pitcher’s box. One fell short, and the other hit the backboard.
But no one was maimed.
She moved in to take her turn.
“Hang on,” Dante said, walking up to her. “Can I give you a few pointers?”
He already had.
Considering his proximity had already caused two prominent ones on her chest, she only managed to nod.
Big mistake. He stood behind her and lightly grabbed her wrist before pulling her arm back. Every inch of her body was acutely aware of the man, especially where they touched as he practically spooned her in the middle of the sheriff’s backyard.
Try as she might, Amanda barely heard his instructions, too lost in the unfamiliar sensations rushing through her body.
“Okay?” He turned her to face him.
She blinked a few times, and because he was no longer touching her, she snagged a few floundering brain cells and said, “Umm…”
