Page 8 of The Duke's Hellion

With a glare, she replied, “You weren’t invited.”

A second chastising from Nobi permeated the air, “Mimi, really!”

“That’s all right. We’ll join you anyway. We could use the activity. Come.” Sam grabbed Chris by his bicep and pulled him to standing. “Let’s go.”

After sneaking another glance at Nobi, Chris shrugged his shoulders. The four of them exited the room and made their way to the targets.

“I trust you know where they are and we’re not blindly following you to nowhere?” Sam asked Mimi.

After a contemptible harrumph, Mimi answered, “Of course I know where I’m going—”

“It’s just that your first attempt led you to the library.”

“Yes, well, everyone makes mistakes sometimes. Life is about moving past them.” She stated with such a glare that Sam couldn’t help laughing. On the inside. He didn’t yet want to disclose the fact that she could make him laugh, despite their numerous previous encounters in which she did exactly that.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Chris whispered beside him as Mimi stormed ahead.

“Competition is always a good idea.” Sam swept Chris’s hand off his shoulder. “Besides, I love a challenge.”

“I know.” Chris replaced his hand on Sam’s shoulder but with a firmer grip this time. “But are you sure you want the challenge of her?”

“This isn’t about her.”

“Right.”

Sam scoffed. “This is about the archery, my good man. I’m about to win at something.”

“Are you in the right frame of mind to do this? Right now? With her?” Chris canted his head to the lithe blue-eyed blonde sashaying her hips to the targets. Not that Sam noticed all of those attributes. Consciously.

“I’m always in the right frame of mind. You would think you would know that about me. I’m not James. I’m not reckless.” He spat out the words. Even though he loved his friends—yes, he was comfortable with the word love—he was honest enough to label them for what they were when needed. And for some reason Chris was confusing him with James. Sam was competitive. Not impulsive. He wasn’t the kind to jump the seven-foot stile to prove a point when everyone else rode around it.

But he was always the kind to pick up a weapon, aim, and release. And he was usually the kind to win.

And there was nothing akin to the feeling of winning. Of being his best. Though he didn’t feel his best at the moment, there was nothing stopping him from achieving that. He only needed to focus his thoughts. Remove the distraction of Chris in his ear and Mimi in his eye.

“Are we doing this?” Sam shouted, intentionally moving quickly toward Mimi. From the corner of his eye he saw Chris shake his head, and he was pretty sure he heard a whisper from Nobi.

“It’ll be all right,” or something equally reassuring.

And yes, it would be all right. Nothing was going to happen. It was a simple game—competition.

Nothing could go wrong.

Only a few moments later, Sam was taking aim, focusing on the target thirty paces away. He should be able to hit this. It was easy. He just needed to breathe. A deep inhalation only confused him. Vanilla and sugar infused itself in his nostrils. That was not the scent a man needed when he was concentrating. Then again, a man also didn’t need the worry of a threat on his life or livelihood taking up residence in the back of his mind either. If a thought was going to take up space, it should at least do some farming, be productive, and pay its way. No, not these thoughts today. Rudolph and Mimi, equally aggravating but in the most polar opposite of ways.

He huffed out a breath and released the bow.

Dash it. He hit the very perimeter of the target.

“Nice shot,” Mimi teased. And what he wouldn’t give to…what…he was grasping at straws. What did he want to do to her? Nothing drastic…just shut her up. The only way to do that was to beat her.

“I have another shot,” he ground out.

“You’ll need it,” she rejoined with pursed lips. And as he set up his next arrow, she had the audacity to call out to Nobi and Chris. Loudly. “Aren’t you two joining us?”

“No, we have decided to sit this round out,” Nobi answered at a more respectful decibel than her sister.

Sam stole a quick glance over to Nobi and Chris huddled together, whispering at the outskirts of the field. They weren’t touching, but he could see Chris leaning in. What was it about those two? They were old friends, yet there was always a peculiar tension between them. Sam shook it off. He didn’t have the patience to consider his friend’s problems. He had enough of hisown that he was trying to avoid. And he wasn’t even sure his thinking was logical at this point. All he knew was that he needed to hit the target. He needed a win. Right. Now.

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