Summer reached up and rapped his head. “Cruel Mordred. Shall I challenge you to a bout, then?”
”Sure, go for it.”
“Oh! Oh, /now/ you are willing to fight me?” She squirmed around to face him, lifting eyebrows and making an amused face. “Now that you’ve seen me fight?”
She tipped her head back and tried to kiss the underside of his chin. “How, may I ask, did you tell me so? You’ve spent a great deal of time explaining to me how you don’t want me fighting.”
“There were words of encouragement in there somewhere.”
“Were there now? I have no memory of this. You should repeat them, I think.”
“‘s fine.” She took his hands and wrapped them around her shoulders, pulling him to lie over her back like a cloak. “Thank you. For letting me do this. For believing that I could.”
He smiles, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “I always believed in you – but is it bad to say I told you so?”
She tipped her head back and tried to kiss the underside of his chin. “How, may I ask, did you tell me so? You’ve spent a great deal of time explaining to me how you don’t want me fighting.”
“Didn’t mean what?” Summer had to brace her elbows on her knees to keep from toppling over, so relaxed was she now. Vaguely she wished he would massage less and caress more.
”To hurt you,” he tells her, kissing the top of her head, “you feel a lot less tense now.”
“‘s fine.” She took his hands and wrapped them around her shoulders, pulling him to lie over her back like a cloak. “Thank you. For letting me do this. For believing that I could.”