“What?”
The smile on his face was instant. “You heard me.”
“Like what?”
His eyebrows raised. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“No.”
“You’ve been training for this all summer. Time to see if you learned anything.”
I folded my arms, trying not to acknowledge the disappointment of his bringing up his coaching. “What happens if I make it?”
He thought for a long moment. “Then I’ll be doing something to make you blush.”
I swallowed, my gaze immediately drawn to his lips.
“Fair warning, though, Tuck. It takes a lot to turn me red.” When I gave him an exasperated look, he only grinned. “You might have to get creative.”
I pushed at his laughing chest, turning my face away from his so he wouldn’t see that I’d already lost.
I attempted to settle my racing heart by imagining the most un-sexy things I could think of.
Toilets
Dentures.
Camels.
“What if I can’t do it?” I asked.
“Then you’ll have to try harder. This is your final exam.” He held out his hand. “Spit or no spit?”
“Always no spit.”
We shook hands, and the second his warm hand held mine, I knew I was in trouble.
He handed me the rope. “You’re up, big talker.”
I gripped the rope and attempted to appear unaffected, but the rate at which my heart was currently speeding off a cliff was alarming.
“Should I start giving you some ideas?” Jake remarked somewhere behind me.
“For what?” I asked, adjusting my stance.
“For making me blush.”
“I won’t need it.” I bit back my smile and zeroed in on my target. This was nothing but a final exam to him. Supposedly. But why was there a trace of sadness in his eyes? Or had I imagined it?
He waited a beat before he went on, cheerfully getting into my head.
“I was frisked at the airport once. Something like that might do it.”
I shook my head, even as a laugh bubbled out of me. “No. Stop.”
“You remember Betsy May? The lady who’s been ninety years old our whole lives?”
“I’m not talking to you right now,” I said, zeroing in on the shoulders of the steer.