Caught in the Net Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Where do you want to
go?”  He nuzzled her affectionately.  His father and Scott started laughing.
    “You will never tire of playing with your present,
will you?” Scott asked, rubbing his hand over Michael’s hair.
    “I hope not.  But what am I supposed to do with it?”
    “Let’s take it down to the beach and walk some,” Dr.
Quimby suggested, slipping on his sneakers. 
    Sam grinned, her arms wrapped tightly around her
brother’s neck as he carried her down the stairs.  She snuggled under his chin.
“I love having my own pack mule,” she commented as they walked along the surf
line.
    Michael raised his eyebrow.  “You do?  Well, let’s see
about that.”  He waded in thigh deep and tossed her into the water.
    “Hey!  I’m not supposed to get the ring wet yet!” she
shrieked, a wave dunking her.  She stood up, hands on her hips and glaring at
her laughing family.
    “Too bad, so sad,” Michael teased.  “You look like a
drowned rat.”
    “No, more like a redheaded Yorkshire terrier,” Dr.
Quimby chuckled, holding his hand out to help her out of the water.  She took
it, twisted and sent him flying into the next set of waves.  He scowled,
pulling himself to his feet.  “That was mean, daughter.”
    “Comparing me to a yappy dog wasn’t very nice either,
father dear,” Sam remarked as she backed away from his reach.  She caught the
expression on his face; he was not satisfied with the turn of events.  He
lunged and Sam bolted, shrieking as she ran with him hot on her heels.  His
long legs quickly overtook her and he dove to catch her legs and tackle her
onto the sand.  By the time Michael and Scott joined them, the father and
daughter were engaged in a full sparring match, and attracting cheering
onlookers.
    “That was a good block, but he turned too far to the
left.  Could have lost balance.  Ooo, nice throw, Dad,” Michael observed,
squatting to watch closely.  He knew his sister's moves, every expression and
every twitch.  He frowned.  She was transitioning into combat mode and was out
to win.  Poor Dad.
    “OW!” Dr. Quimby yelled as Sam's foot landed squarely
on his thigh, knocking him backwards.  “Chill out, kid!  We’re sparring, not
trying to kill each other.  HEY!”
    He ducked a swing, grabbing at her leg and catching
air.  She was incredibly fast and her small size was deceptive, offering a tiny
target.  Sam dove behind him and caught the back of his knees, knocking him
down before pouncing on his chest with her arm across his throat.  Dr. Quimby
mistakenly believed his size to be an advantage at that point, and flipped her
easily over his head.  He did not anticipate her next move, which left his head
locked between her strong legs.
    “Oh shit, that’s her death move.  Okay, you guys, that’s
enough.  Sam won this match,” Michael called, pulling his sister away.  He
brushed her off as Scott helped Dr. Quimby to his feet.
    “Good match.  I hate to tell you, buddy, but she
kicked your ass this time.  She could have snapped your neck like a stalk of
celery,” Scott stated, sounding impressed.
    “She sure did.  Where did you learn those moves,
little girl?” Dr. Quimby asked, brushing sand off his arms and inspecting his
bruises.  Sam looked completely unaffected except for a slight sand rash on her
chin and being covered with white sand.
    “I have a great trainer and sparring partner.  You okay? 
I got you good.”
    “You’re lucky I was holding back,” he grumbled.
    “You were?  It looked like you were going full force,
Dad,” Michael teased. 
    Scott cuffed him on the back of the head, pleased to
hear a yelp.  “Stop messing with his ego.  The old fart already has to face the
fact that he was beat up by a midget.”
    “A girl midget,” Michael snickered.
    “At least he knows I can take good care of myself. 
Right, Daddy?”
    “I would hate to face you in combat, my dear.  I am very
pleased with your progress.”  He