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“G-gun? What?”
“You want to know what I do in a day, Miss Hayes? You’re about to find out.”
CHAPTER9
THE STAND-OFF POINT
ISLAND
Clay Bolton is infuriating,stubborn and inflexible. I doubt he’s ever gotten a massage in his life. The man is a walking, talking stick-in-the-mud. Rigid and unbending.
But holy crap, he’s handsome. Sulking or softening with that ghost smile, it doesn’t matter. His face is perfectly symmetrical and his body is a freaking work of art.
He’s also frustrating to the highest degree.
It took a lot to come crawling back here with an apology. I tried talking myself out of it hundreds of times, but I couldn’t shake the expression Abe made yesterday.
He’s a little kid, but he’s got complicated emotions and after everything he’s been through—losing his mom and having a tough-love father like Bolton—I want him to feel a glimmer of peace.
Is it any of my business?
No.
But it’s not like I can sit aside when I see a child who’s hurting. Besides, Regan talks about her brother so much, I feel like I know him.
I’ve made up my mind and Clay Bolton isn’t getting in my way. If this is what it takes to free Abe from prison, I’ll do it.
“I don’t see a gun,” I drawl. “When do I get to shoot you—I meansomething?” I gesture to the targets in the distance.
Clay’s eyes narrow slightly. He lifts his baseball cap, swipes a hand over his closely-cropped hair and sticks it back on.
My knees weaken like I just watched a sexy fireman calendar photoshoot. How is everything this man does so seductive?
I fan my face and hope he can’t tell it’s because I’m wound tight. It’s a hot day. Sweltering, really. Sweat is already beading down my neck and causing my breathable polo tonotbreathe.
And why is this fabric so itchy?
“Do you really think I’ll hand an active weapon to a woman who just threatened me?”
“Smart man.”
One corner of his lips hitches up. A picture of him smirking at me while he kisses his way down my neck fills my head.
I frown and brush the thought away. “When do we start?”
Smoothly, Clay reaches behind him and pulls out a gun.
My eyes widen when I see the weapon up close. “Are you always packing heat? What kind of gun is that? How good of a shot are you? What does it feel like to shoot somebody?”
I planned on acting indifferent, but I do love learning new things and going on adventures. Even if I’m being dragged there by my shirt collar, this counts as both.
“Try to take a breath between words, Miss Hayes.” Bolton steps forward, angling himself slightly behind me. “Yes, I have a conceal to carry license. This is a Colt 1911.” He palms the handle. “Most folks prefer the Glock. It’s light. It’s modern. Colts tend to lean fussy.” His eyes trail down my body. “But it seems I gravitate to beautiful, complicated things.”
I’m keenly aware of the thud of my heart and the tingle in my fingertips. “There were two more questions.”
The smile gets a little bigger, not enough to show teeth but enough to cause wrinkles to bracket his startlingly blue eyes.
“I’m an okay shot and shooting people isn’t something I’d like to describe.”