activity on the screen, as primary-colored spikes and pinwheels threatened destruction. One of them eventually zapped Brady right out of the game.
“Okay. Now it’s your turn.” He slid another quarter into the slot and placed her hand on the spinning directional wheel.
Amanda gave it her best effort. “Now what’s happening?” she exclaimed as the screen first shrank and then expanded.
“You’re going on to the next level.”
She panicked. “But I’m not ready yet.”
“Sure you are. Keep firing.” Brady pressed her finger to the Shoot button. “Watch out! Avoid those spikes!”
Amanda twirled the steering dial. “I’m trying to!” Five minutes later she turned to him, flushed with victory. “Pretty good, huh?”
“Are you sure you haven’t been here before?” he questioned suspiciously, eyeing her outstanding score in disbelief.
“Positive.” She grinned at him.
Brady smiled in return, a measure of masculine respect reflected in the warm brown of his eyes.
Moving on, they wandered from world to world—dungeons to dragons, explosive missiles to gobbling amoebas.
“You hungry?” Brady asked after Amanda raked up yet another five-digit score.
“Ravenous!”
“Good, because I know a place that serves the best hot dogs you’ve ever tasted. Hot, juicy, and loaded with sauerkraut.”
“Don’t say any more,” Amanda groaned. “Just lead me to it.”
The establishment was small, lending it what Brady laughingly called an intimate atmosphere. They were lucky enough to commandeer one of the four tables the place boasted. Amanda was surprised, but touched, when Brady pulled out a utilitarian chair for her. The chivalrous gesture added yet another dimension to his exasperating, intriguing character.
Brady left Amanda there to stake a claim while he went to place their orders. He returned several minutes later with a tray full of food. The smell of crispy french fries and beefy hot dogs tickled her nose and intrigued her stomach. Even though it was almost nine at night, the place was still alive with people.
Her hot dog was so loaded with goodies that Amanda could hardly fit it into her mouth. As it was, a smudge of mustard dotted her chin. Brady took it upon himself to supervise the cleanup operation, affectionately dabbing her face with a paper napkin.
“There, as good as new,” he announced.
“Until the next bite.” Amanda grinned before adding, “This really is delicious.”
“Of course. The secret is in the authentic sauerkraut.”
“And how do you know this is authentic sauerkraut?” she asked, stealing one of his french fries.
Brady watched her munching the stolen plunder with indulgent amusement. “Because I was stationed in Germany when I did my two-year stint in the army.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“The army? Not really.”
“No, I meant Germany.”
“Very much.”
“Where exactly were you stationed?”
“In Garmisch.”
“That’s in the mountains, isn’t it?”
“Sure is. Have you ever been there?”
“No. I’ve always wanted to go to Europe though, especially the Alps.”
“I remember seeing that poster of the Alps you’ve got hanging in your office,” Brady acknowledged. “Why haven’t you gone?”
Amanda wiped her mouth after downing her last bite of hot dog. “I don’t speak the language for one thing.”
“Maybe I should offer my services.”
“Services?” she repeated suspiciously.
“As a translator, of course,” he clarified.
Amanda was impressed. “You speak German?”
“Do I speak German? Does Milwaukee make beer?”
“I gather that’s an affirmative,” Amanda mocked, pausing to admire the way the corners of his eyes and lips creased simultaneously when he smiled.
“Ten-four,” he drawled.
“Is that why you chose to be stationed in Germany? Because you spoke German?”
Brady shook his head. “I didn’t know any German before I was stationed there. I took an introductory course on base and then picked up
“Okay. Now it’s your turn.” He slid another quarter into the slot and placed her hand on the spinning directional wheel.
Amanda gave it her best effort. “Now what’s happening?” she exclaimed as the screen first shrank and then expanded.
“You’re going on to the next level.”
She panicked. “But I’m not ready yet.”
“Sure you are. Keep firing.” Brady pressed her finger to the Shoot button. “Watch out! Avoid those spikes!”
Amanda twirled the steering dial. “I’m trying to!” Five minutes later she turned to him, flushed with victory. “Pretty good, huh?”
“Are you sure you haven’t been here before?” he questioned suspiciously, eyeing her outstanding score in disbelief.
“Positive.” She grinned at him.
Brady smiled in return, a measure of masculine respect reflected in the warm brown of his eyes.
Moving on, they wandered from world to world—dungeons to dragons, explosive missiles to gobbling amoebas.
“You hungry?” Brady asked after Amanda raked up yet another five-digit score.
“Ravenous!”
“Good, because I know a place that serves the best hot dogs you’ve ever tasted. Hot, juicy, and loaded with sauerkraut.”
“Don’t say any more,” Amanda groaned. “Just lead me to it.”
The establishment was small, lending it what Brady laughingly called an intimate atmosphere. They were lucky enough to commandeer one of the four tables the place boasted. Amanda was surprised, but touched, when Brady pulled out a utilitarian chair for her. The chivalrous gesture added yet another dimension to his exasperating, intriguing character.
Brady left Amanda there to stake a claim while he went to place their orders. He returned several minutes later with a tray full of food. The smell of crispy french fries and beefy hot dogs tickled her nose and intrigued her stomach. Even though it was almost nine at night, the place was still alive with people.
Her hot dog was so loaded with goodies that Amanda could hardly fit it into her mouth. As it was, a smudge of mustard dotted her chin. Brady took it upon himself to supervise the cleanup operation, affectionately dabbing her face with a paper napkin.
“There, as good as new,” he announced.
“Until the next bite.” Amanda grinned before adding, “This really is delicious.”
“Of course. The secret is in the authentic sauerkraut.”
“And how do you know this is authentic sauerkraut?” she asked, stealing one of his french fries.
Brady watched her munching the stolen plunder with indulgent amusement. “Because I was stationed in Germany when I did my two-year stint in the army.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“The army? Not really.”
“No, I meant Germany.”
“Very much.”
“Where exactly were you stationed?”
“In Garmisch.”
“That’s in the mountains, isn’t it?”
“Sure is. Have you ever been there?”
“No. I’ve always wanted to go to Europe though, especially the Alps.”
“I remember seeing that poster of the Alps you’ve got hanging in your office,” Brady acknowledged. “Why haven’t you gone?”
Amanda wiped her mouth after downing her last bite of hot dog. “I don’t speak the language for one thing.”
“Maybe I should offer my services.”
“Services?” she repeated suspiciously.
“As a translator, of course,” he clarified.
Amanda was impressed. “You speak German?”
“Do I speak German? Does Milwaukee make beer?”
“I gather that’s an affirmative,” Amanda mocked, pausing to admire the way the corners of his eyes and lips creased simultaneously when he smiled.
“Ten-four,” he drawled.
“Is that why you chose to be stationed in Germany? Because you spoke German?”
Brady shook his head. “I didn’t know any German before I was stationed there. I took an introductory course on base and then picked up
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