Chapter Five
Bianca carried her duffel bag up to the master bedroom and dropped it in the middle of the bed. Cage had stayed all afternoon, and she hadn’t laughed that long in a while. It was comfortable to have him around. Weird. Her mother once told her in a worried voice she didn’t think Bianca had ever met a stranger. Yet, for Bianca, she’d never met anyone she was so immediately comfortable with that she didn’t have to work for it.
Maybe Cage was the face she associated with safety, because he was the man who’d rescued her. She didn’t remember much about that night. Though she hadn’t worked to recall the events. So much of it was clouded behind a curtain of exhaustion. How long had she and Collin been inside the hot little hut? Every ounce of energy she possessed had been focused on that little boy.
The screams, the gunshots, and telling Collin to run—those she recalled. Then the struggle with her captor, the fight in the dark, and her determination to survive. There was pain. Wrenching pain all along her arm. Even now, the ache in her arm increased as though echoing the memory. The doctor on the ship had thought she’d broken it, but the fracture hadn’t proven to be severe by the time she’d been seen on land.
Unzipping her duffel, she paused as an image flashed across her mind’s eye. Someone—no, something—had interrupted the fight. Whoever it was had come between her and the man. They’d ripped his grip off of her—the tearing had burned. Rubbing her bandaged wrist, she winced. The splint itched, and so did the bandage. The nurse who’d redressed her injury told her she could remove the splint as needed for showers, but she needed to wear it for at least three weeks, then visit her doctor before abandoning it permanently. The splint was for the fracture, the bandage for the torn skin on her wrist. She’d gotten a look at the angry marks, a bite of some kind.
Had there been dogs at the camp? She didn’t recall any, but that didn’t mean anything. The day seemed a blur, split between moments of terror and moments of exhaustion. They certainly hadn’t given her a grand tour. Flexing her fingers, she winced. After the burning, biting sensation and her captor being hauled away from her, she didn’t remember much. Collin stood out in stark relief, but even then she couldn’t remember everything they’d said. In the days since her rescue, bits returned to her, some of them jagged and unmatched. She kept trying to piece them all together. Had she blacked out?
All she remembered was an aching head, then staggering outside. She’d found some measure of chaos, and a lot of bodies. Bodies had been everywhere, some of the huts had been burning, the flickering light painting the nightmare in strange shadows and shimmers. Stumbling, she’d found Collin and wanted him to run.
Had they actually left the little village hub and made it to the jungle, or had Cage intercepted them before they had? She had no idea where he’d come from. He’d simply appeared out of the darkness, his shirt open to reveal bare skin. Dirt and blood had been on his face, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone so beautiful.
And then I fainted like some heroine in some bad novel. She could chalk it up to exhaustion, stress, and injuries, but she’d fainted into his arms. At some point, she’d woken on the hike out of the jungle, maybe. That image was blurrier than the rest. Her first real memory was waking in the med bay on the ship.
How long had it been from when they rescued her to when she woke? She’d never asked. Cage would be back for dinner in an hour—he’d gone to pick it up and she’d taken advantage of his absence to take a shower.
Easing the brace off, she continued to flex her hand, testing the strength in her wrist. It ached like a bitch, but she knew better than to keep it confined without any stretching. Muscle atrophy and cramps would be worse if she didn’t endure a little discomfort. The bandage would stay put till she was ready to get under the water.
Out of the duffel, she pulled out a clean shirt, underwear, and a pair of leggings. She only had the one pair of jeans and she was wearing them. There were also some shorts in the bag, but she wasn’t sure they were appropriate for her first dinner with Cage.
A prescription bottle fell out and she retrieved it. The pain med included an anti-inflammatory, with instructions to take as needed. Those were optional; her antibiotics weren’t. She had a full two weeks’ worth to take as preventatives, considering the number of her injuries. She’d rather have a glass of wine or a beer. Leaving the bottle on the bed, she carried her clothes into the bathroom, then returned for the toiletries. They were all brand new, purchased at a little shop in the airport for way too much money. Same place she’d picked up the bag, a few stores down from where she bought the clothes. Airports were better than malls for finding a little bit of everything you needed, even if they were more expensive.
The water heater in the place proved fabulous, because she had a hot shower running in no time at all. Unwrapping the bandage on her wrist, she studied the bite. It was an ugly thing, ridged and red. They’d given her several shots at the hospital, including a very unpleasant one for rabies. Thankfully, with as much as she traveled, she’d been immunized for just about everything. She’d have to find a local doctor for a booster shot relatively soon.
Running her finger around the edge of the wound, she grimaced. It was hot to the touch. Not a good sign. She was on antibiotics, a fact she had to keep in mind because it would screw with her birth control pills. No sooner did that thought take root than another image of Cage flashed in her mind.
Glaring at herself in the mirror, she shook her head. “You look like a punching bag, and your skin is mottled with bruises, abrasions, and cuts, not to mention the damn near shiner on your cheek. You are not sleeping with Cage Castillo.”
A shiver rippled over her skin. She wouldn’t kick him out of her bed if he fell in it, though. Everything about the man seemed larger than life, sexier, and just downright edible. If she could be sure a one-night stand would be enough, then great. They both had other lives. Starting something with him, no matter how delicious, just wasn’t in the cards. Rolling her eyes at the lascivious thoughts, she turned away from the mirror and plunged herself into the shower.
The hot water was almost scalding, but she reveled in the sensation of it. Her muscles hurt. She’d been stuck in a hospital bed, then a night in a hotel where she did a lot of work on the phone making arrangements, then it was the flight and finally the cab ride to the new house.
And Cage… A quiver settled into her belly as she turned her bruised face into the hot spray. The water pounding on her cheek awoke a fresh ache. She had a couple of small stitches, so she didn’t stay under the water too long.
Instead, she turned her back and went to washing her hair. The soap smelled like roses, her favorite flower. They were so exotic overseas, she rarely saw them. Her grandmother had a rose garden when Bianca was a kid, and she’d adored them.
Hope Cage doesn’t mind the scent…
Oh, for the love of all that was holy, why could she not stop thinking about Cage? He was a military guy, a nice one. He’d rescued her, great. Now he lived across the street, apparently? Or was it right next door? Huh, she hadn’t asked that.
They were just going to have dinner.
That’s it.
Pinching herself in case her body didn’t get the memo, she rinsed out her hair then finished her absolutions with some conditioner and a sketchy scrub down. She had enough cuts that soap stung, but she needed to make sure she washed them all out, including her wrist.
By the time she finished the shower, she had her thoughts in some semblance of order.
Stepping out, she paused and stared around the bathroom…all the while she dripped onto the tile floor. She had no towels.
Biting her lip, she fought against a little bubble of hysterical laughter. She remembered toiletries, she remembered clothes, and she’d even picked up some first-aid items to go with her prescriptions from the hospital, but she didn’t remember towels.
Cage was due at any minute with their dinner, so she made do and hurried to get dressed. It was hardly her first time to go without amenities. Actually, not having what she needed made her feel better. Time to make a list of what I can grab at the store…
When the knock sounded at her front door, she had three pages listed in her tiny notebook and a small headache forming behind her eyes. Rehabilitating the house had taken on an epic list of items she didn’t possess. Good thing she had a healthy bank account. Guilt stabbed at her. At least she had the option to get what she needed to easily here. When she was on a job, she had to work with what was at hand.
She was going to make the most of her time here, then she’d get back to the real work. A ribbon of anticipation threaded through her as she headed for the door.
Cage had four bags in his hands and a wide smile on his perfect mouth. Her tummy bottomed out and all those lascivious thoughts from the shower returned.
“I hope you’re hungry. I went to the Roadhouse.”
“Roadhouse?” She stepped aside to let him enter. The late afternoon had given way to evening, though the sun continued its descent. They would likely have a gorgeous view of the sunset from the back deck. Excitement bubbling at a steady simmer, she closed the door.
“Yeah, it’s out by the highway. It’s got a little bit of everything, even some country dancing if that’s your pleasure. They have lots of great bar food options, burgers, steaks, and some local delights, including chili-stuffed potato skins.” The eager look he sent in her direction pulled another smile from her. She could hardly rain on his happiness.
“Well, I’ll have to try those.”
“Excellent, I got two orders. I love the damn things.” He cocked his head and motioned for her to precede him.
“I have to warn you, I didn’t think about the fact the house only has the furniture it was staged with. There’s no plates or silverware.”
“Huh.” He paused a beat, then winked at her. “We’ll rely on the fancy forks and knives they gave us.”
Thrilled at his acceptance, she waved him into the kitchen, where he set out the food containers. A dozen in all, there were two with the chili-stuffed potato skins, and a mouthwatering scent rose from them. Her stomach rumbled. Two of the containers had burgers with all the works, and one container had a metric crap ton of french fries. He’d also picked out some deep-fried green beans, chips, salsa, and even a little guacamole. When he got to the last two containers, he paused to give her a long look before he opened them.
“Inside these are the secret to the Roadhouse’s success.” After he delivered the line with the right amount of grandiose showmanship, she had to pay him the proper attention.
“Oh really?”
“Indeed. Now, I haven’t had time to do a full assessment, but in my opinion—these little babies are what make the Roadhouse the Roadhouse.”
“Well, you have my attention.” The food looked fantastic, and she was ready to say to hell with manners and just dive right in, but she managed to control the impulse. She had company after all, far too sexy for her own good company.
“Do I?” He leaned forward slightly, and she couldn’t help it. They were on opposite sides of the island in the kitchen, so she braced her uninjured hand and leaned toward him.
“Yes,” she exhaled the word. “Stop teasing me and share the secret of their success.”
“Very well, Miss Bianca,” he said, his gaze flicking to her mouth before rising to meet her eyes. “Prepare to be amazed.”
All of a sudden, she was holding her breath and it wasn’t because of the food containers, but the man presenting them. He flicked open the Styrofoam lid and spread his thick arms wide. The muscles in his arms were so well-defined, she could see the veins popping on them. Damn, the man was cut.
“Well?”
Bianca blinked, then remembered the secret dishes, and forced herself to not undress him with her eyes. Though to be honest, that black shirt really worked for him. Looking at the open Styrofoam, she felt her mouth fall open. “Hot fudge cake…”
“Oh, yeah, and I have some vanilla ice cream right here to add to them…” He’d barely opened the last container when she reached for the plastic-wrapped spoons and forks.
“I don’t suppose you have a moral objection to eating dessert first?” The rest of the food looked great, but the cake and ice cream called her name.
“Not a single one,” he said, his deep voice full of mystery and promise. “In fact, I encourage it.”
He added the ice cream to separate fudge cakes then handed hers over with a flourish. “Your dessert, pretty lady.”
“I think I love you,” she said with a grin, before spooning some of the already-melting ice cream, fudge, and cake into her mouth. A groan escaped her. Good God, she’d died and gone to heaven. When was the last time she had real hot fudge and ice cream with anything? She was on her third bite when she realized Cage hadn’t moved. Instead, he stared at her, seemingly riveted.
A thrill curled in her belly, and she licked the ice cream from her lips before saying, “You better eat yours, because if I finish mine and yours is still there, no promises I won’t steal it.”
…
Cage gave up on even the pretense of sleep and rolled out of the too-soft bed at four a.m. His body clock, still tuned to East Coast time and training, told him he should be out with the team. He could be on a run with the guys, alternating their training between wolf and human forms. Hell, if he timed it right, he could be out in the hill country and running free for the sheer joy of it. Instead, he stood in a dark bedroom, on a hilly suburban street near Austin, staring broodingly at the house across the street.
Bracing one hand against the window edge, he debated the next step. Spending time with Bianca was not a hardship; in fact, he’d half forgotten his purpose over dinner the night before. Watching her eat the ice cream aroused him and left him lusting hard. So much so, he’d been sure his erection would have a permanent zipper imprint.
His wolf didn’t help, not one bit. In fact, the beast settled in her presence and wanted to take root. The animal hated leaving. Between her tantalizing scent and absent-minded licking of her lips, Cage had to admit he found it difficult to bid her good night and walk out her front door.
Once outside, he’d noticed her windows were still open, upstairs and down. She hadn’t turned on any external lights, and he was pretty sure if he navigated his way over the back wall and leapt onto the deck, he’d find her French doors still wide open.
They’d eaten on her deck. She seemed more comfortable outdoors than in. He could get inside, maybe even steal a kiss before telling her to lock up for her own safety.
I’m not here to seduce her. Having to repeat the mantra after a sleepless night didn’t improve his mood. Bianca had accepted his reasoning for being across the street, but her suspicions filled him with pride. She wasn’t the type to just take a story at face value. Then again, he hadn’t been 100 percent honest with her.
There was no easy way to say, “I might have just changed your life forever…by the way, how do you feel about becoming an animal?” The wolf didn’t give a damn about Cage’s reasons for why they were there. The wolf liked Bianca, enjoyed her scent, and her husky voice. So do I.
Movement by her front door attracted his attention, and he let the wolf peek out. The shift of his eyes was a controlled move, and it allowed his night vision to expand. Bianca exited her place wearing a pair of denim shorts with frayed hems, an open button-down shirt over a tank top, and her feet were encased in pair of sneakers. She paused to lock the door, a bit of a struggle with her splinted wrist.
Hair swept back into a ponytail, she looked fresh and bright—if one discounted the bruise on her cheek or the scrapes visible on her forearms and long legs. Where the hell was she going at four in the morning?
Leaving, she moved slowly and deliberately down the steps, favoring her right leg. Her feet had been scratched, bruised, and damaged. Even last evening when she sat on her deck, bare feet stretched out to rest on the rail, he’d seen the angry marks on them.
As she reached the sidewalk, she paused, hands on her hips, and looked left then right. Her gaze swept back and forth, and it was then he realized her lips were moving. Even with his superior night vision, he couldn’t read what she said. Finally, she turned toward the uphill rise on her right and began walking.
At four in the morning.
In a city she didn’t know.
In a neighborhood she’d just moved to.
Cage growled then hurried to throw on shorts, a T-shirt, and running shoes. In less than three minutes, he’d dressed, descended the stairs, and let himself out of the front. Jogging, he followed her scent easily. Even at her limping walk, she’d made it to the end of the block and continued around the curve.
He’d almost caught up to her when it occurred to him that running at her in the dark might not be the wisest course. Slowing, he opened his mouth to warn her he was there, when she spun and slammed a taser into his side. The voltage sent a cascade through his nervous system. One minute he was standing, the next he lay on the ground staring at her dumbly.
“Oh, shit!” Bianca cursed, then turned off the flickering taser. Kneeling, she grimaced and touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he said, slowly, not sure he trusted his voice. His wolf felt as stunned as he was. The shocks rioting along his nerve endings zapped him in lessening increments. Tingles spread throughout his limbs. His tongue seemed permanently rooted to the roof of his mouth. “No.”
The weight of her hand on his arm riveted him, helping to ground out the solid scrambling she’d sent through his system. Wolves were hardy beings, and they could take a solid beating. Most minor injuries they could heal in a short time. More serious wounds—bullet wounds, knife stabs, even claw rips—they could heal by shifting.
Electricity ripping through them? That hurt on multiple levels, and not even a wolf could recover from the stunning effect swiftly. Maybe it had something to do with the disconnect he felt with his wolf right now. The animal seemed dazed and distant.
“Cage?”
He’d almost forgotten Bianca was there; her fingers traced over his arm.
“I’m really sorry, I just heard someone coming at me, and it’s dark and…”
And she took his ass out with a taser.
“No problem,” he grunted around the pain. Sitting up cost him some dignity as his synapses still seemed to be short firing.
“What can I do?” She’d gone to one knee, and strain showed in the tightness of her mouth. Sitting brought him eye to eye with her, and her luscious lips as she licked them. Concern radiated in her scent, along with embarrassment. She grasped his arm, as though she planned to help him to his feet.
“Gimme a minute,” he managed after loosening his jaw. His teeth had been grinding, and it took him a moment to recognize the sensation. How much voltage had been in that little device?
“I’m so sorry,” she apologized again. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“I know, you did fine.” His wolf seemed to stumble into awareness within him. The animal felt drunk. Yeah, tasers were definitely not their friend. Forcing himself to stand, he suffered the indignity of Bianca bracing him, though it did allow him to wrap an arm around her. She fit perfectly beneath the curve of his arm, even as she pressed her hands against his chest and back to complete her effort. The contact of her body alongside his sent a fresh wave of electricity through him.
She was close enough to kiss. To taste. To…
Flashing lights sliced through the darkness, and Cage growled as he turned to face the newcomers. Shaky or not, he could still protect Bianca. Next to him, she stiffened a fraction as the black-and-white rolled up to pause next to them.
“You folks all right?” The officer in the driver’s seat gave him a long, studying look. His manner was warily cordial. Then his gaze went to Bianca. “Ma’am?” The officer slid out of the driver’s seat and stood.
“We’re fine, Officer.” Bianca spoke before Cage could say anything. A growl rumbled in his chest, then Bianca rubbed a slow circle with her palm against the center of his sternum. The agitation settled immediately. “Don’t let the bruise fool you, I was involved in an incident in Costa Rica a few days ago. I’m still healing.”
“And you?” The officer didn’t seem to doubt her story, though his attention returned to Cage. “Are you drunk, son?”
Was he drunk? What the hell kind of question was that? Straightening, he forced himself not to lean on Bianca, but she didn’t let him go. A good thing. He still staggered a little on his feet and not leaning on her, he could straighten. Then he met the officer’s gaze and held it. The cop was doing his job. Good man.
But Bianca was his to protect, not the cop’s.
The man began to sweat under the weight of his stare, though he fought to hold it. Finally, his gaze cut away.
“Not drunk, took a misstep.” It chaffed his pride to admit to clumsiness. Approaching Bianca at speed in the dark had definitely been a misstep. He had the taser burn to prove it.
“Well, if you’re both fine, I’ll leave you to it.” The officer didn’t sound certain.
“We are. We’re new to the neighborhood, just out for a morning walk—well, he’s going for a run. I was just going to walk to Bonnie’s Donut House. I heard it’s down this way.”
“It’s about six or seven blocks, not an easy walk…” Fresh skepticism rifled his tone.
“I like long walks. It lets me get to know the area.” Bianca slid her response in before Cage could just tell the officer to fuck off and leave them alone. Arguing with law enforcement wasn’t a good idea. Cops in Austin were decent, but better not to give them cause to detain him, much less Bianca.
“Well, you’re headed in the right direction. She’ll be open by five.” The cop gave them another long, measuring look before he slid back into the driver’s seat. The flashing lights ceased, then he gave them a small wave and pulled away.
“Whew.” Bianca blew out a breath, then her attention was on him again. “How are you feeling?”
“Positively electric.” He couldn’t take the worry in her eyes or her manner. Better to take the burden away. The fact she’d tased him had been his own damn fault. He shouldn’t have charged at her.
“Funny.” Yet she grinned and stayed right with him. “Do you need a hand to get home?”
“Nah.” He forced himself to let her go. Pride demanded he prove himself capable. She’d more than demonstrated she could take care of herself. “Donuts sound good, though.”
“Uh huh,” Bianca said, releasing him with equal care.
Muscles aching, joints sore, and his pride smarting, he stretched. It wasn’t until he’d managed to pop the vertebrae along his spine that he released the extension. His wolf rubbed against the inside of his skin. Better.
Bianca stared at him with a kind of raw admiration. “You really are built.” The blunt yet sweet compliment stroked his ego.
“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” He winked. “Do you mind if I join you on the donut exodus?”
“Not at all. Seems to be the least I could do.” Resuming her walk, Bianca folded her arms and shook her head. That was why he hadn’t seen the taser; she was walking with it tucked safely in her palm.
“If I’m overstepping, feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but I am very curious about one thing.” More than curious, but he meant it. He’d back off if she didn’t want to answer him.
“After that kind of lead-in, I think I’d feel guilty about not answering. Shoot.” Bianca possessed an ease in her manner, a quiet kind of confidence that radiated through her whole being.
“Why are you walking to a donut shop at four in the morning?”
“Well, it’s almost four thirty now, and I’m doing it because I wanted donuts. We had some great leftovers, but cold french fries and a half-eaten burger weren’t what I wanted.”
“Okay…but why are you walking? It’s not always safe for a woman to be out alone in the quiet dark.”
Glancing at him, she smiled. “Because I don’t have a car, for one. And for two, I need to loosen up the stiffness in my muscles. I’m used to walking miles, so a few blocks is hardly going to be a deterrent to leaving the house.”
“And you’re armed…”
“Oh yeah,” she said, her grin widening. The early morning hours left the world hushed around them. A jogger appeared on the opposite side of the road. An occasional car passed them. Suburbia was beginning to wake. The farther they went, the steadier Bianca’s steps became. “I know what I read about the area, but I’ve always been a big believer in letting my own experiences be the judge.”
God, he liked her. Even his wolf approved of the strength she demonstrated. If the bite took root, if it transformed her—she would be an amazing wolf.
And hate his guts forever, a fate he deserved if he robbed her of the choice. Hell, his father would have to punish him for violating the law. On so many levels, it would be wrong—her choice taken from her, the change a burden she would have to survive, and his own life on the line for breaking his oath and the laws governing his pack. He both wanted and didn’t want the change for her.
Choice. The singular word summed it all up for him. He wanted the decision to be a wolf to be hers to make, not something he forced on her—even by accident.
“Hey,” Bianca said giving him a nudge as they reached a traffic light crossing. They’d exited the subdivision and now followed a busier street. Busier only because about a half-dozen cars had passed them.
“Did I miss something?” He scanned the area, then shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he seem to lose all focus around her? She was the one he had to be friends with, to forge a place for himself in her life so he could be close to her. Four days since he’d bitten her, the first signs of whether it had taken would show up within seven to ten…maybe. He needed to do more research. What signs he needed to look for, specifically.
Jax and Kat would have more details. Jax’s mate Kat had been doing a lot of research on the process even though she didn’t plan to take the bite until Jax’s contract was up. No one wanted to give the government the heads up they could turn humans. As it was, checking in with his commanding officer was probably a good plan, period.
“No, you just looked very fierce and worried.” The light turned green and the walk sign flashed white.
Taking her hand, Cage laced his fingers through hers as they crossed the street.
“I’m fine,” he assured her, but she didn’t appear convinced. On the other side of the street, he scanned the area for possible threats out of habit. Instinct taught him to be aware of his surroundings, and his training only honed the talent. Bianca tugged her hand from his. Almost instantly, he missed the contact.
“Donut shop is right there. I think you could use some coffee—or maybe something calming like tea.”
“Tea?” Not even bothering to disguise the curl of disgust in his voice, Cage jerked his attention back to the beautiful woman studying him.
“Yes, tea…something soothing to calm you down and ground you a little. I get it—you’re military, you go into a lot of high-pressure, intense situations. Me, too. But we’re in Austin, in a suburban idyllic paradise.” Then she took his hand and held it tight as she stepped into him. His whole focus riveted on her. “We’re safe, Cage. Stop growling and glaring at everything as though it might attack us.”
Had he been doing that? Shock had him straightening, though he maintained the grip on the hand she’d offered. Her closeness settled him. “I don’t like the bruises, or the injuries I know you still have.” The words slipped out unfettered or tempered with care. “I like you, Bianca. I liked you from the moment I met you…”
“In the jungle?” Surprise marked her words.
“Well then, too.” He couldn’t help a bit of a smile. She looked so utterly confused. “I meant the hospital. One of the first things you asked was about the kid. Not you. The kid’s a huge fan, so his opinion held some sway, but you—you were pretty awesome. I want to keep you awesome.”
I want to have not destroyed your life.
“Okay, thank you.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m definitely buying the donuts now, but I need you to be Cage my neighbor, and maybe even my friend. I don’t need you to save me. At least not again.”
For a long moment, the oxygen seemed to evaporate from his lungs and she held him captive in her stare. Odd. He would do anything for her. Not odd…necessary. The wolf was pretty basic when it came to those declarations. Yet his animal half was right. It was necessary for them to do anything to win her trust, to secure their place, and be at her side. Acceptance allowed some of the tension to bleed away.
Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to one of her bruised knuckles. “You drive a hard bargain, Bianca.”
“I don’t know. You’re a tough guy; you can take it.” Well at least she didn’t think him weak. “What do you say to some coffee and donuts before we walk back home?”
“I think that sounds great.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze then released her. “So tell me,” he continued, falling into step with her. “Does this neighbor and friends thing mean I can ask you about your plans for the day?”
“It does.”
Excellent. “Does it also include letting me offer assistance and maybe asking you out to dinner again tonight?”
“Possibly,” she said over her shoulder as she pulled open the door to the donut shop and released the scent of hot, sweet sugar and baked goods. “I guess you’re just going to have to ask to find out.”
Oh, he knew a challenge when he heard one.
Game on.