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With the press of a button, he brought the target back. Overall, it was a nice grouping, with most of the bullets piercing the inner rings of the bull’s-eye, though one strayed and hit the right shoulder.

Dorcas’s eyes widened. “Wow, you’re good.”

He made a dismissive sound as he removed the target and tacked up a fresh one. “Eh, that’s nothing. You should see Austin and Wade. They get tighter groupings without even trying.”

He reloaded the gun and held it out to her, the barrel facing downrange.

Tentatively, she picked up the weapon. “It’s lighter than I expected.”

Nate sent the new target halfway down the range. “Let’s start you a little bit closer. Odds are if you’re in a situation where you need a gun to protect yourself, it’ll be in tighter quarters.”

As she stepped to the firing line, he moved behind her and put his arms around her shoulders to help her get in the proper position. This close, he could feel the heat of her body and smell the sweet scent of her skin. He wanted to kiss her, to nuzzle her neck. Actually, he wanted to do a lot more. But damn it, he was a professional, and he forced himself to behave.

“Now take your time, aim down the sights at the center of mass, and fire on the exhale.”

The gun jerked when she pressed the trigger. She paused, checked where the bullet hit the target, and squeezed off another round. Then the sound of gunshots filled the room as she fired the pistol, again and again and again, until the Glock clicked empty.

Nate reeled the target back. A swarm of holes dotted the silhouette’s chest. One bullet had grazed the right side of the head, while another missed the silhouette completely.

No way could a newbie pull off that kind of accuracy. “You’ve shot before.”

“Maybe.” A grin teased her lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ask?” Her grin broadened as she pressed the button to eject the clip. “My mom used to have a concealed weapons permit. She made a point of teaching me and Rita how to shoot, just in case we ever needed to use her gun.”

“Do you carry?”

“I used to, but not anymore.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Shailene doesn’t feel comfortable with guns in the house.” Dorcas reached for the box of ammo and started to reload the empty clip. “When we moved in together, she made it clear how uneasy they made her, so I gave my .380 to Rita for safekeeping.”

“I don’t remember seeing a gun in her house.”

“I didn’t see it either. I assumed she took it with her.”

Nate hoped that was the case, because he hated the idea of it being in the hands of a criminal. He gave her a long, appraising look as she slipped the clip back into the pistol. He knew it was sick, but watching her handle that gun was turning him on. “So how good of a shot are you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m kind of rusty. It’s been three or four years since I’ve shot.”

Nate glanced at the target. “If that’s rusty, I can’t wait to see what you’re like after a little practice.”

He switched out the target for another fresh one, reeled it out as far as it could go, and then motioned for her to step up to the firing line.

“All right, hot shot, let’s see what you can do.”

Eyes squinted, she raised the pistol and lined up the sights. After five or ten seconds, she pressed the trigger, paused, pressed it again, paused again, and then slowly fired the remaining rounds. When she finished, Nate brought the target back.

“Not bad, especially considering how long it’s been since you’ve handled a gun.” The grouping wasn’t nearly as tight as before, but twelve of the fifteen rounds had pierced the silhouette. If it were a person, they sure as hell wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. “We might be able to use you for muscle after all.”

Dorcas scoffed. “Shooting paper men is a whole lot different from firing in a real-life situation.”

“True, but I think you’d do just fine.” And he felt a lot better about her ability to defend herself if things got dicey. He slapped in a fresh clip, stepped up to the line, and fired every bullet. He reeled in the target. Not bad; every round hit the center chest, though a few shots had hit the outer rings. Good thing Austin wasn’t around or he’d never hear the end of it. “So what else can you do that I don’t know about?”

“I make a mean paella.”