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watching a good movie. Have you tried an avocado shake?”
    “No. I would rather eat artichoke and ripe olive tuna salad. Or couscous, lentil and arugula salad with garlic-dijon vinaigrette. Or dandelion salad with goat cheese and tomato dressing.”
    “Did you say dandelion. My God. What are you? A bear?”
    “You're not funny.”
    “And how can you say no to an avocado shake? Man, I tell you, avocado with milk, sugar, and ice is a delish.”
    “So you want me to go home and eat until I look like a blimp to match my swollen ankle.”
    “Baby, you're gonna need more than a case of ripe avocado to fatten you up.”
    “Are you saying I'm skinny?” She huffed, then bent down to rub on her sore ankle.
    Man, what was it about women and their ankles and weight. Bors knew he touched a sensitive topic. Based on his experience with his sister and sister-in-law, he learned never to mention anything about a woman's figure unless you were complimenting them. He decided not to answer the woman. Instead, he moved forward, laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on his thighs.
    “If you're in real pain, I could twist the doctor's arm to see you right away.” The woman looked up. If he moved a couple inches closer, he could kiss her. Awesome thought, but he didn't succumb to it. He bet this woman wouldn't hesitate to sock him if he did. Although a kiss for a punch would be worth it. Gawain would agree with him, he bet.
    “You're a brute, a bully, a...” she snapped her fingers, “...a gangster.”
    “All of the above, baby. I'm a mean, nasty fighter. Just say it and I'll scare the doctor so he can see you now.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Bors grinned. “Or if you want, I could kiss your owie away for you.”
    “Nice try. No, thanks. I'd probably catch rabies from you,” she said and broke into an easy, friendly smile.
    Bors wasn't ready for it. Her smile wiped away the memories of last night's job and melted his insides. He smiled back. A wayward strand of auburn hair covered the woman's left eye.
    Bors raised his arm to push it back, but the ripped part of his jacket touched his wound. Pain from his arm traveled all the way down to the tips of his fingers. “Shit!”
    “You owe the curse jar fifty cents, sweetheart.”
    Bors looked up. Julie, his sister-in-law, stood in front of him with her arms akimbo. Her round stomach protruded, and she looked lovelier than ever. “Hey, love.”
    “What happened?”
    “Nothing worth worrying about.” Bors stood up to give Julie a hug, but she stopped him.
    “I would give you a hug except you kind of smell.”
    “I know. But you still love me.”
    “Of course. Smelly or not. You're covered with germs.”
    “Do you think they have enough hand sanitizer here to wash me?”
    “Ha. Ha. Sweetheart, you're worse than Pig-Pen right now. Are you okay? A woman didn't do this to you, did she? I swear I'll gouge her eyes out, whoever she is.”
    “Hush, love. It's nothing.”
    “Tell me what happened?”
    “You don't want to know. How's the baby?”
    “Already giving me a hard time. Kicking my bladder. I have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes.”
    Bors leaned down, then kissed Julie's pumpkin-round belly. “Listen to me, buddy. Don't give mommy a hard time. She's a wonderful woman and I love her. You'll love her, too, when you meet her.”
    “Excuse me.”
    Both Bors and Julie looked at the beautiful woman. She looked flushed, angry, and so damn enticing. Like a ripe apple you just want to take a bite off.
    “Yes?” Julie asked, smiling.
    “I don't mean to intrude, but I'm not just going to sit here listening to your husband sweet talk you. You seemed to be a nice woman who looks familiar to me and who obviously loves him, but this man you married is one fat jerk and in need of disciplining.” She turned to look at Bors. “You are one bad troll.”
    The sound of a cell phone ringing interrupted the woman's tirade. She reached inside her handbag, read whatever message was