“Stop tempting me with promises of sleep, Margaret.” I wallop him with a pillow, making him grunt. “Shh,” he says, seriously. “The skunk.” “My first name is something you take to your grave, Axel Bergman. I rue the day I had to share a marriage license with you.” “I don’t know why you’re so upset about it. Margaret’s a pretty name.” His humor is so dry, I can’t tell if he’s teasing me, so I wallop him again, just to be safe.
