Chapter 8

• Steven watched Dade, leaning on his drum looking in the direction of the cottage. The sun was almost set now. Any moment they’ll come over that little knoll, he thought and he didn’t want to look away and miss that first punch that always took his breath away, seeing their latest outfits of torment. They’d placed the women’s offering for the harvest in the fire pit for them, and now waited. “It’s like being a kid at Yule waiting for present opening to begin,” Steven mumbled.
• Patrick walked up and sat down beside him. “I don’t have to ask what you gentlemen are watching for. Damn near swallowed my own tongue at Solstice when your ladies made their appearance.”
• Chris grinned. “You wouldn’t be the first.”