Page 94 of Puck Your Friend

I grab the second one and let it fly. It misses by a mile.

She gives my back a pat. “It’s okay, Champ. Can’t win them all. There’s a milk bottle game three booths down. I bet you can’t win me a plushy.”

Frankie veers off and stops in front of it.

The guy behind the counter wears a Bears cap. His arms are crossed as he snaps his gum. He tracks Frankie a second too long with a look that says he wouldn’t mind having her.

I step in beside her. A low growl rises from my chest before I can stop it, giving him a warning. His eyes widen and he straightens like he might challenge it.

Then his gaze lands on me. I watch as recognition clicks into place.His jaw drops. “Wait, are you Jace Lopez?”

I don’t blink.

He clears his throat. “Didn’t realize she was yours. My bad.” He flicks his eyes at Frankie. “What’ll the prize be, little lady, if he wins?”

Frankie, unfazed by our posturing, points at the top where the largest prizes are. “That one. The golden retriever.”

It’s massive. The fur’s a dark golden. It has droopy eyes and a long tongue that lolls out. It’s funny looking, but if she wants it, I’ll win it for her.

He glances at me. “That’ll be eighty for top shelf prizes.”

Fucking highway robbery. But she’s worth it. I slap four twenties on the counter.

The guy pulls the basket forward with the balls clunking against each other and puts them in front of me.

“Three tries.” He flicks his gum into a trash can behind him. “Knock ’em all off. No rebounds, no leaning, no whining when you miss. No refunds.”

Frankie lifts a brow. “You always this charming?”

He glances at me, then shrugs. “Only when someone growls at me.”

I grab the first ball without a word and step into place.

The first throw hits dead center, right on the bottom bottle. They don’t budge.

Frankie shifts beside me. I want to prove to her and this Alphahole that I can do it.

I grab the second one and let it fly. Middle row goes down hard and bottles scatter, but not all of them.

Yes!

There’s no time to celebrate. I have one try to knock down the rest.

I roll the third between my palms and glance over. She’s watching. Her scent curls tighter around me, carrying the edge I’ve come to recognize as her lust. I shake my head. It’s making it hard to focus.

I plant my feet and drag in a breath, centering my grip. Lock onto the last stack. Then throw, clean and fast, straight through the air right at the weak link for the rest.

The whole stack explodes. Bottles clatter to the floor.

Frankie lets out a low whistle. “Damn, impressive. I thought they were glued together.”

The guy mutters under his breath, then shuffles over and yanks the dog down. I take it, not wanting any part of him to accidentally graze her. It’s heavier than it looks. My arms are full of synthetic fur and floppy limbs.

Turning, I smile at her. “He’s yours.”

Frankie laughs, the sound like magic to my ears. “I’m naming him Jacee.”

I raise my brows. “Seriously?”