“What the hell was that?” he demanded, his voice dripping with indignation.

“That,” she replied, satisfaction oozing from her tone, “was to make sure she knows I didn’t fake your signature.”

“You punched me in the throat! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? And don’t even get me started on my poor balls—they’re crying for an ice pack.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have ambushed me and hoisted me off the ground. I was just ...