Page 29 of Flare (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters #17)
Practice Makes Perfect
Emily woke curled against Ward, feeling warm, rested, and above all, calm.
She stretched languidly in the soft bed, savoring the bliss of not having to rush anywhere today. Maggie had given her both today and tomorrow off after she ’ d worked straight through the weekend at the festival.
Ward was still asleep next to her, one arm slung protectively across her waist. His callused fingers curled loosely against her hip, as if he were protecting her even while he slumbered.
She studied his face, relaxed and unguarded in sleep, and noticed a faint scar along his jaw that cut a faint line through his beard. He was an unbelievably sexy man, and here he was, in her bed.
“ Morning,” Ward said. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her. “ Sleep okay?”
“ Never better,” Emily admitted. She ran her hand down his delightful, furry chest. “ Turns out teddy bears are the best for cuddling.”
“ And other things.” She saw the flash of his smile before he gathered her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly.
When the kiss ended, she was ready for more. Last night had been amazing, and she couldn ’ t get enough of him.
He ran his finger down her cheek and smiled at her. “ Why don ’ t you move your things into my room today?” he rumbled. “ I have a king-size bed.”
“ Sure,” she said, and stroked his flat, hard stomach before letting her hand wander lower, where his cock stood at attention.
“ Ooh,” she teased, closing her fingers around his thick shaft. “ Someone ’ s up early this morning. I believe I owe you an orgasm… or five.”
His laugh turned into a gratifying gasp as she wriggled down the bed, opened her mouth, and swallowed as much of him as fit.
“ Not… keeping count,” he managed. “ But this is a fucking fantastic way to wake up.”
And that was the last coherent thing he said for quite a while.
She loved pleasuring him, and his groans as she worked him with lips and tongue fanned her own arousal, already awakened by their kissing session.
“ You liked that almost as much as I did,” Ward said, panting, when he ’ d finished.
“ I did. I love your cock,” Emily said with complete truthfulness.
Then he moved with preternatural speed. Before Emily knew it, she was on her back, legs draped over Ward ’ s broad shoulders.
“ Now, let ’ s see if I can get you to make that adorable giggle-scream again.” He dove face-first between her legs and applied himself enthusiastically to licking her pussy.
∞∞∞
“ Ready for breakfast?” Ward asked much later.
Emily was draped over him, limp after his thorough pleasuring. “ I ’ m starving after that workout.”
“Great. I made an appointment for us at Bearpaw Fish n’ Game for 10 a.m.”
She nodded. They ’ d discussed it last night on the drive home from Sunday dinner. Today was the day she would start gun safety and shooting lessons.
Anxiety fluttered in her stomach. Could I really shoot another person? Even Andrew?
“ What kind of gun should I get?” she asked.
“ Why don ’ t you try out a few different models and see what feels right?” Ward replied.
“ I ’ ve never even held a gun before,” she confessed.
“ That ’ s okay,” Ward assured her. “ We ’ ll take it slow and keep it safe.”
∞∞∞
The Bearpaw Fish n’ Game Store looked more like a rustic lodge than a retail establishment on Main Street. Inside, mounted fish and animal heads decorated the walls, while glass cases displayed everything from fishing lures to hunting knives.
“ Hey, Tony,” Ward greeted the silver-haired man behind the counter. “ This is my friend Emily.”
“ Hey, Ward, hi Emily. What can I do for you folks today?” Tony asked.
“ We ’ re here to buy a handgun for Emily,” Ward told him.
“ For self-defense?” Tony asked, his expression sympathetic as he looked at Emily. “ Heard you had some trouble on Saturday with a stalker.”
Emily had almost forgotten how quickly news spread in a small town. She nodded, trying not to appear as uncomfortable as she felt.
“ Follow me to the back,” he said. “ We ’ ve got a shooting range where you can try out a few models.”
The shooting range was a long, narrow room with paper targets at one end. Emily ’ s heart raced as the store owner unlocked a cabinet and removed several handguns, placing them on a padded counter.
“ For beginners, especially ladies, I usually recommend either a revolver or a compact 9mm,” he explained. “ Revolvers are simpler to operate, but semi-automatics like a Glock give you more rounds.”
Ward stood slightly behind Emily, his presence reassuring. “ Why don ’ t you pick up a few and see which one feels best in your hand?”
“ First safety rule: never point a gun at anyone unless you intend to shoot them,” Tony cautioned. “ Point it at the floor, even if you ’ re positive it ’ s unloaded.”
Emily tentatively picked up a small revolver. It felt heavier than she ’ d expected, and awkward in her grip.
“ Try this one,” Ward suggested, handing her a matte black pistol. “ It ’ s a Glock 43. Compact enough to carry easily but still effective.”
As soon as Emily wrapped her fingers around the grip, she knew it was a better fit. The weight felt balanced, and her hand didn ’ t strain to hold it properly.
“ That looks good,” the store owner commented. “ Want to try firing it?”
Emily ’ s mouth went dry. “ I guess that ’ s why we ’ re here.”
Ward helped her with ear protection and safety glasses, then stood beside her, guiding her into a proper stance.
“ Feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed, his breath warm against her ear. “ Both hands on the grip, dominant hand holding, other hand supporting.”
His body curved around hers as he helped position her arms, and despite her nervousness, Emily couldn ’ t help noticing how perfectly she fit against his broad chest. The thought vanished when Ward stepped back and nodded for her to try firing.
Her first shot went wide, the recoil stronger than she ’ d expected. By the fifth shot, however, she was at least hitting the paper target, if not anywhere near the center.
“ I like the Glock best,” she told Ward after trying three different guns.
Ward nodded approvingly. “ Good choice.”
When they approached the register, Emily reached for her wallet, but Ward placed his hand on hers.
“ I ’ ve got this,” he said.
“ Ward, I can ’ t let you—”
“ Please.” His voice was firm but gentle. “ Consider it an investment in your safety.”
Emily wanted to argue, but the intensity in his hazel eyes stopped her. “ Thank you.”
She filled out the ATF paperwork, presented her ID, and passed the computerized background check in a matter of minutes.
Tony then spent the next hour showing her how to check whether her new firearm was unloaded, walking her through the Glock ’ s features, how to load and unload the magazine safely, how the safety worked.
He finished by giving her a quick talk about safe transport laws, especially how to carry a gun in a vehicle.
Her head was spinning as they left the store with their purchases, plus a list of beginner safety courses and marksmanship training available in the area.
“ Want to grab some lunch before heading to the ranch for some practice?” Ward asked.
“ That sounds like a great idea,” Emily said.
“ How about Dancing Cow Burgers?” He started the truck.
“ They ’ re still in business?” The venerable burger stand on the outskirts of Bearpaw Ridge had been her favorite childhood destination. “ Mom and I used to go there all the time for huckleberry shakes.”
“ They ’ re still going strong. I prefer the Belgian Cookie Blast shake, though.”
“ Heathen,” Emily said, giving his arm a playful slap.
∞∞∞
Dancing Cow Burgers was packed for a Monday afternoon, the outdoor patio filled with locals enjoying the spring sunshine. Ward led Emily to the counter, where a teenager with a bright smile greeted them.
“ Hey, Ward! The usual?”
“ You know it, Jenny. And whatever the lady wants.”
Emily scanned the extensive menu board. “ I ’ ll try the barbecue bison burger with sweet potato fries, please.”
“ Good choice,” Ward approved. “ They buy their bison meat from our ranch.”
Instead of a milkshake, she and Ward both opted for peach-flavored iced tea.
“ I ’ m sick to death of lavender stuff,” Ward remarked as they went outside and made a beeline for a small table on the edge of the patio.
“ It ’ s going to be a while before I can deal with lilac anything,” Emily admitted.
When their food arrived, Emily bit into her burger and closed her eyes in appreciation. The meat was juicy and flavorful, seasoned perfectly and topped with crispy fried onions and a tangy barbecue sauce.
“ This is amazing,” she said after swallowing.
Ward smiled, clearly pleased, and dug into his double cheeseburger, made with Grizzly Creek Ranch grass-fed beef.
As they ate, Ward explained what they ’ d be doing at the ranch. “ We ’ ll practice with your new Glock until you ’ re comfortable loading, unloading, and firing it. Then I ’ ll show you some basic self-defense moves.”
Emily set down her half-eaten burger, appetite suddenly gone. “ Do you really think Andrew will come after me?”
Ward ’ s expression turned serious. “ I hope not. But better prepared than sorry. And I ’ ll protect you with my life.”
After lunch, they drove to Grizzly Creek Ranch, taking a dirt road that wound through pine-covered hills. The ranch sprawled across a verdant valley, with the main house and barn visible in the distance and cattle grazing in fenced pastures.
Ward took her to a clearing far from the buildings, setting up targets against a hillside backstop.
For the next two hours, he patiently walked Emily through the basics Tony had covered so quickly that morning.
Then he tutored her in how to aim properly.
“ Focus on your breathing,” he advised, standing close behind her. “ Inhale, exhale halfway, then squeeze—don ’ t pull—the trigger.”