Deuce groaned. “Ma, what sort of pie was that?” He was rubbing his stomach.“Bitter cherry. Lucy Hopewel had one at the potluck a week back, and I thought I might try it. It wasn’t good?”“It was good, Ma,” Ty said, voice flat.“Where do you get bitter cherries?” Deuce asked.“Disgruntled trees,” Ty said. He looked over his shoulder with a smirk.

You okay to mount?" he asked Ty."Next time you ask me that, you better be naked.

I’m pretty sure that wasn’t there before,” Nick grumbled.Kelly laughed harder. “I’m pretty sure it was.”“Shut up.”“You’re high.”“Oh, look at the pothead calling the kettle names,” Nick said in a singsong voice as he settled onto the wide chaise beside Kelly.

What do they call a collective of ghosts?”“I don’t know. What?”“A fraid.