The small handgun went off, and Emma yelped. Tucker laughed. “Emma, honey, you can’t squeal every time the gun goes off. It just ain’t right.” “Oh shut up, Tucker,” she said, turning toward him, and instantly Tucker fell to the ground. “Damn it, Emma! How many times do I have to tell you not to swing around with a loaded gun?” “Oh, sorry.” She smiled, lowering the gun to her side, as Tucker rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt from his pants once again. “And just how sorry are you, Emma?” Tucker said, smiling as he began to stalk her. The predatory style in which he maneuvered toward her had Emma squealing as she dropped the gun and ran. Her laughter rang out over the fields as Tucker chased her. Catching her around the waist, he picked her up and swung her around, till they were both out of breath. Falling to the ground, breathing heavy, they lay there looking up at the sky. Tucker rolled till he was lying over her chest and brushed her blonde hair from her face, looking into her iridescent bluish-purple eyes.
