Page 34 of There's Something about Merry

“See? Like mother like daughter.” Merry grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open, grinning at Clark. “Let’s skedaddle before she remembers everything else I borrowed.”

“Lead the way,” Clark said, following her out the front door. They stepped onto the porch, the brisk air smacking him in the face. Even though the Christmas lights blinked around them, casting colorful flashes of light across the yard, the lack of moonlight created a deeper darkness beyond the giant blow-up Santa waving in the middle of the front lawn.

“Whew, it got cold out here.”

“Winter is coming.”

Merry shot him a smirk. “Game of Thrones fan?”

“Yes, until the last season. That ending was weak.”

Merry covered her ears with a squeal. “I’m only on season four! Do not tell me!”

“How have you avoided spoilers?”

“I stay off Reddit and ignore all things GOT.”

“What’s taking you so long to catch up?”

“I binge it for a bit but then it becomes so exhausting, I have to take a break.”

Clark winced. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“What?”

“You’re talking about one of the most epic shows of our time!” Her noncommittal shrug sent all the air from his lungs and he started spluttering. The heartless woman thumped him on the back with a laugh.

“You all right there, Sparky?”

Clark caught his breath with a wheeze. “You…may have traumatized me.”

“You’ve definitely become more dramatic.”

“Only when it comes to my fandoms.”

“I do apologize for insulting such an epic show and giving you a coughing fit.”

“It’s fine. I was surprise—ahhh!”

Clark knew what was happening the minute the bottom of his boot hit the ice. Both feet scissor-kicked out from under him, his arms circling in the air.

I must look like a goose taking flight.

The wind whooshed around his ears for several seconds before the impact of landing on his back knocked all oxygen from his lungs. Still less painful than her belittling Game of Thrones.

Merry’s face filled his vision, flashes of green and red lighting up her knitted brow. “Are you all right, Clark?”

“Missed the ice.”

Merry grinned. “Really? Seems like you hit it dead on. Ten out of ten for the fall, by the way.”

“Shouldn’t you be checking for a concussion instead of busting my chops?”

“Sure.” She held up her fingers. “Count ’em.”

“Three.”

“What’s my name?”

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