Page 102 of Viking Unchained

“Listen, Finnster, when I was a kid down on the bayou, my brother said he didn’t like catfish. He always tossed back every catfish he ever caught. So, my MawMaw tol’ Phillipe, be careful, ’cause if he didn’t eat the catfish, someone else would. One day Phillipe decided he had a taste for catfish, and lo and behold, the catfish was gone. Moral of the story: Eat yer catfish when ya can, or someone else’ll snatch it off yer plate, guar-an-teed.”

Thorfinn snapped out his favorite Old Norse expletive.

“That means Bite me,” Torolf told Cage.

“It does not!”

Torolf shrugged. “A rough translation.”

“If I e’er meet that MawMaw of yours, if she even exists, I plan to throttle her.”

“You could try. My MawMaw is one tough broad. Arnold Schwarzenegger with dentures. Talk about!”

“If you have no feelings for Lydia, would you mind if I asked her out on a date?” Slick asked. Women were drawn to this dark SEAL with his unsmiling demeanor.

I will be bloody hell damned if I just hand Lydia over to him. “Yea, I would mind. Do, and you die.

And I ne’er said I had no feelings for Lydia. I merely said she does not want to wed with me ’til I am able to say I love her.”

“Then say it, dammit,” Torolf advised.

“I cannot lie.”

“Millions of men lie about that. Besides, if you aren’t already in love with her, you’ll probably grow to love her,” Torolf told him.

“Maybe you oughtta talk with a therapist,” JAM suggested.

“A head doctor? There is naught wrong with my head.” Except it is a thousand years old.

“Your cock, then?” Sly suggested.

“Lackwits! All of you! There is naught wrong with that body part either.” A thousand-year-old cock . . .

amazing, when you think about it. “It’s my heart she wants.”

They were all getting great pleasure out of his misery.

As they began running at a slow trot back to the compound, Thorfinn said, speaking to no one in particular, “What is love, anyway?”

“Wanna know what I think?” Geek asked Thorfinn.

“No.”

“I think all this protesting that you’re not in love with Lydia is just an excuse to cover the fact that you’re scared. One woman left you high and dry, and you’re afraid to give your heart to another.”

“I ne’er gave my heart to Luta.” Or much else, and she gave even less in return. Pitiful, really.

“Well, then, see,” Cage drawled, “all the more reason to let the love bug into your heart.”

“Love bug?” he scoffed. “If there was a love bug around me, it would probably bite me in the arse.”

“Got it in one,” Cage said, chuckling.

“You know, it would help if even one of you had a bit of constructive advice.”

“Well, cher, since you asked. There’s a famous Louisiana saying: Shuck Me, Suck Me, Eat Me Raw,”

Cage told him.