frantically worked the controls.
âNot yet, buddy boy. Take that!â
Zoe watched an enormous blond wrestler heave his burly opponent onto the mat and deliver a punishing body slam.
Next came grappling, grunts, horrible shrieksâand not all of them from the speakers.
Then Simon collapsed onto his back, arms spread, mouth gaping.
âDefeat,â he groaned. âI have tasted defeat.â
âYeah, get used to it.â Brad reached over, drummed a hand on Simonâs belly. âYouâve met the master and now know his greatness.â
âNext time you die.â
âYouâll never take me in Smackdown.â
âYeah? Hereâs a sample of whatâs to come.â
He flipped over, and with a whoop leaped onto Bradâs back.
There was more grappling, Zoe noted, more grunts, and the kind of shrieks that warmed her heart. She didnât evenflinch when Brad flipped Simon over his head and pinned him on the rug.
âYield, small, pathetic challenger.â
âNever!â Simon hooted it out, and laughed from the gut, being ruthlessly tickled while he tried to twist his face away from Moeâs slurping tongue. âMy ferocious dog will chew you to pieces.â
âOh, yeah, Iâm trembling with fear. Give up?â
Breathless, tears of laughter streaming, Simon wiggled and squirmed another ten seconds. âOkay, okay. No more tickling, or Iâll puke!â
âNot on my rug,â Zoe said.
At her voice, Brad turned his head, Simon squirmed. And his elbow connected, point first, with Bradâs mouth.
âOops.â Simon sucked in a snicker.
Brad dabbed at the little cut with the back of his hand. âYouâre going to pay for that,â he said in a dangerous tone that had Zoeâs fingers jerking on the tray.
In a blur, Brad was on his feet, and horrors flashed into her mind. She was already opening her mouth to shout, already moving forward to protect her son, when Brad hauled him up, hung him upside down, and had him howling with laughter again.
As her knees went weak and the muscles in her arms began to tremble, she set down the coffee tray with a clatter of dishes.
âLook, Mom! Iâm upside down!â
âSo I see. Youâre going to have to get right side up again and go brush your teeth.â
âBut canât Iââ He broke off, as Moe licked his face.
âSchool night, Simon. Go on, get ready for bed. Then you can come out and say good night to Bradley.â
Though he was watching Zoe now, Brad rotated Simon until the boyâs feet hit the ground. âGet going. Iâll give you a rematch soon.â
âSweet. When?â
âHow about Friday night? You can come over, bring your mom along. Weâll have dinner at my place, then suit up in the game room.â
âAll right! Can we, Mom?â Anticipating her answer, he flung his arms around her waist. âDonât say weâll see. Just say yes. Please!â
Her knees were still knocking. âYes. Okay.â
âThanks.â He gave her a fierce hug. Whistling for the dog, he danced out of the room.
âYou thought I was going to hit him.â It was said with such complete astonishment that Zoe felt her stomach pitch.
âI justâyou sounded so . . . Iâm sorry. I know better.â
âI donât make a habit of knocking kids around.â
âOf course you donât. It was knee-jerk.â
âDid somebody else hurt him? Were you involved with someone who hit him?â
âNo. No,â she repeated, struggling for calm now. âThereâs never been anyone whoâs paid him enough mind for that. And Iâd like to see somebody try to raise a hand to him when Iâm around.â
Apparently satisfied by that, he nodded. âOkay. You can rest assured it wonât be me.â
âI insulted you. I donât like to insult anyoneâwell, not by
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