The 7-7-7 game

Blame this on Edward Kendrick. The 7/7/7 game. Page 7, 7th paragraph, and so on.

This is from my work in progress tentatively entitled: Werewolves, Weddings, and Wool Socks.

“More like northern Canada,” Ridge pitched in. His deep voice carried a hint of teasing humor.

“How northern?” Kenzie held her breath, somehow already knowing the answer.

“Resolute,” Libby answered.

The town name didn’t clear up any confusion. Kenzie’s gut tightened all the more. “That doesn’t do anything for me. Try again.”

“Pretty much as far north as you can go,” Sand finished. “Think past the Arctic Circle. Land of no dawn.”

No dawn? Arctic Circle? Images flashed through her head and none of them good. “Oh, no. No. No. No.” Kenzie shook her head. “I’m not going to the North Pole. No way, no how.”

Ridge smirked. “It’s not the North Pole, silly.” His expression and voice told how amusing he found her responses.

“Right.” Sand gave a single nod. “But, it’s close.”

“It’s not like you’re staking a tent on the top of the earth.” Libby waved her hand in the air as if that tidbit of information made all the difference in the world. “Everything is paid for already. The plane ticket. The dress. Everything. You just have to pack a bag and show up.”

Kenzie worried her lip. The North Pole sounded…intimidating. Ruthless. Miserable. Late October in the South had to be scores warmer than…well…the North Pole. She shivered at the thought.