Page 44 of Sack

“Hey, Mr. Colton.” A teen holding a stack of colorful rings came up to them. “You gonna try your luck?”

Colt reached into his pocket. “Need to win this beautiful lady a giant banana.”

Ivy beamed. Being called beautiful by a gorgeous football star did not suck.

Colt handed the kid a five. The sign read three rings for a dollar.

“What if you make it on the first shot?”

“Doubtful, but if I do, five bucks for a giant bananawithpersonality is a steal.”

Ivy chuckled as Colt accepted a stack of rings from the teen and got into a spread-legged stance for his toss. He let one fly and it overshot the bottles by a mile.

He threw her a wry smile. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

Tossing another one, gentler this time, it landed, side up, bouncing off the top of the bottle.

“Maybe if you flicked it like a frisbee?” she said to be helpful.

The look he gave her was half annoyed and half amused. He tried again with the same result.

“You almost had it that time.”

Now his expression was all annoyance. “Don’t humor me.”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I was just trying to save your ego.”

He took a step back from the partitioned half-wall. “You think you could do better?”

Ivy huffed on her fingernails then buffed them on the sleeve of her shirt. “I don’t want to brag, but I was county fair ring toss champ, 2009.” He narrowed his eyes and she reluctantly admitted, “Okay, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but I bet I can ring one before you.” She’d been watching his technique and was a shoo-in.

He set the remaining rings down on the edge of the wall, leaned a hip against it, and folded his arms over his chest. “What do I get if I win?”

Ivy shrugged. “Anything you want.”

Glancing over his shoulder at the kid and noticing he was watching their every move, Colt took a few steps closer to her and lowered his voice. “If I win, you’ll owe me a blow job.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Men. So predictable.”

Colt frowned. “What do you mean by that? Have you made a bet like that with a guy before?”

“Well, no. I just figured it would be the typical male response.”

Colt’s frown vanished, and he nodded. “So, tell me, Miss Ring Toss Champ, what do you want if you win?”

Ivy pondered for a moment before snapping her fingers. “I know. If I win, you have to tell me what the P stands for.”

“Fine, it’s a bet. And just to be a good sport and keep things even, I’ll allow three practice throws so you can warm up.”

“How very gallant of you.” Ivy waved her fingers. “Step aside, kind sir.”

Colt bowed and made a sweeping gesture toward the wall.

Ivy picked a ring up from the pile, took aim, and let it fly. Then winced as it sailed far right of the table, landing at the teenager’s feet. “I meant to do that.”

Colt grinned. “Of course, you did.”

Ivy picked up another ring, this time concentrating on the bottle right in front, squinting her right eye as she took aim down her arm. She flicked her wrist and the ring sailed over the kid’s head.

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