“Hate to tell you, but I think you’re wrong,” he said.
One hand went to her hip, and that stubborn pout took up residence on her lips. “I don’t mind being wrong when I’m wrong, but?—”
“This isn’t a potato gun. It’s a freaking cannon.”
She blinked. “Hush on up and reload. I got midterm reports to work on and I miss my cat.”
Yeah, that was totally worth risking getting a potato chucked at his head. He set thespud launcher on the ground and went back for a second potato.
No hesitation, he loaded it up and carved a notch to shove in Allison’s diamond ring. “You do this after your divorce?”
She laughed. “And more, sugar. And more.”
“How long ago did you leave him?”
“Little over two years.” She settled onto the creek bank, no obvious worries over getting her jeans dirty or mud under her fingernails. “And he left me.”
“He—”
“Yes, yes, he left me. And I can admit it.”
He shoved the diamond-laden potato down the barrel. “Must’ve been some damn good revenge you got.”
“By the time I moved here, it wasn’t about revenge. It was about settling where I belonged and taking care of me and Miss Higgs.” She grinned. “But now you can say you know someone legally banned fromusing a blowtorch in Colorado.”
As if he needed another warning about getting on her bad side.
But the funny thing was, he wasn’t worried about Kaci and revenge.
He was more worried about why he couldn’t stay away. “Think I can hit that tree with this one?”
“I sure as heck couldn’t.” She tucked her legs up to her chest. “And I never would’ve admitted that to Ol’ Grandpappy.”
He did a double take.
Was she talking about?—
She grinned wide. “Not too much fuel there or you’ll have French fries.”
He switched off the fuel valve and checked the pressure gauge. Higher, but not dangerously so. “Does your ex-husband know you call himOl’ Grandpappy?”
“He knows I think he’s an old geezer.”
“And he still gets jealous over you beingwith other men.”
“The man has issues.”
He didn’t bother holding in a laugh.
“And I’m one to talk,” she said cheerfully. “Go on, plant that diamond in that tree up there.”
He slid the strap over his head and pointed the cannon toward a towering pine fifty yards down the way. Firing from the hip made it hard to know for sure if he was lined up, but it felt right.
He hit the igniter three times.
The force of a giantTHWOMPfrom the end of the barrel pushed him back a step. There was acrack, and the top of the straggly pine shook.
A primal surge of satisfaction flowed through his veins.
