“It’s more than my face the girls want, Nash. Maybe that’s why you luck out, man.” Luke held up his thumb and forefinger to indicate the size of Nash’s manhood.
He was tired by the last quarter. He had bruises, his ribs ached, and he thought he’d sleep for twenty-four hours without stirring. Jake McBride had just climbed up Nash’s back to get a basket.
“I thought you ranchers were hardy types.” Fin bounced the ball a few times in front of him as Nash bent to haul in a breath. “You look a bit peaky there.”
Nash straightened, flipped him the bird, and then took the ball off his soon-to-be brother-in-law.
“Need to be sharper than that, Ranger. But then you are older than me.”
Anyone passing Simon Nicks threw an insult at him; so far nothing had worked. Mr. Goldhirsh had added five and five and come up with ten, joining their campaign. He’d tripped the man as he’d passed. Also squirted water on him when he was doing his medic duties.
Mayor Gripper had elbowed him back from the sideline. Nash had to give Nicks points for persistence but little else. But what really concerned him was that the guy had looked to the door several times as if he was waiting for someone. Who was he looking for, and why did he have a feeling it spelled trouble for Luna?