Page 9

CHAPTER 9

Kilo

M y eyes raked over Camila as she had her back turned to check out the range. Jesus. She looked damn good in that dress. The white sneakers she was wearing were appropriate for what we were doing today so I was glad she’d worn them. Also if she’d worn heels with that little dress of hers I might have had a heart attack and died on the spot.

I hadn’t noticed what she’d been wearing until just now. My heart was still hammering inside my chest. Seeing Shawn grab her had made every protective instinct inside of me roar to life. I was still struggling to come down from the need to kill him and bury his body somewhere. The heightened emotions were the reason I’d grabbed her and made out with her in front of my store. She wasn’t completely comfortable with that yet, with me yet, but I’d needed it. Needed to put my touch on her after he’d had the fucking gall to grab what belonged to me.

A buzzing started in my ears. Mine? Fuck. I was so screwed. If I was already thinking of her in that way, I wasn’t sure I could undo it. Wasn’t sure I really wanted to. Damn it. My brothers were going to have a fucking field day with this. A perfect pair of tits suddenly filled my vision. Her dress dipped down revealing the top swells and my mouth watered with the urge to taste them.

“Kilo?”

My head snapped up and I realized that she’d just caught me staring at her tits. And her ass before that. She gave me an expectant look. She’d asked me something. Not that I heard what it was. “Sorry, what?”

She stared at me for a brief moment before giving me a gorgeous smile. “Where should I go?” she repeated. Her cheeks flushed as she realized what she’d caught me doing. She was going to be the death of me.

“Lane two,” I told her, pointing toward the end of the building. I moved in behind her as she walked, my eyes dropping down to her ass again. It took all my self-control to bite back a groan of appreciation at the sway of her hips.

When we got to the lane, I started to set her case on the sectioned off shelf that formed the firing line, then I had a brilliant idea and set it on the ground next to where she’d be standing. I took the bag from her and set it on the shelf instead. I forced myself to stare into her eyes when she turned to watch me. Not that it was a hardship. A man could get lost in those eyes.

“Alright,” I said, voice gruff. I cleared my throat and continued. “Rules of the range. Never pass the firing line.” I pointed at the shelf. “That’s it right there. Even when we’re in here alone you want to follow safe practices.”

She nodded, her eyes wide as she listened.

Reaching over I grabbed a set of clear glasses, earmuffs, and a sealed package with ear plugs that were sitting on a table along the back wall. “These are your eyes and ears. They need to be on at all times when you come in the door. Since I knew no one was in here, I didn’t grab any outside, but we have them if you need to borrow them.” I held up the package. “These ear plugs are your inner ears. The muffs are your outer ears. Wear both sets. You don’t want to go deaf by the time you hit thirty.”

I showed her how to roll the inners to fit inside her ears, then set the outers on her head, taking my time adjusting them. It allowed me to brush my fingers along her face and jaw a little longer. She’d already put her eyes on. The outer ears had a mechanism that allowed her to still hear me speak, while drowning out loud noises, like gunfire, so I wasn’t worried about her struggling to hear my directions. I ran her through the rest of the rules.

“Grab your case,” I told her when I was finished, crossing my arms over my chest.

She turned and bent to grab the gun case off the floor. That little dress of hers slid upward as she bent and I thanked whatever fucker designed it for doing me a solid. I wanted to run my short beard over the backs of her thighs so I could hear what kind of sound she’d make. A squeal? A moan? My eyes flicked up as she straightened and turned. Didn’t want to get caught staring again. She was tempting the shit out of me, but I didn't want to be disrespectful. There were rules to dating a woman. I had to be a gentleman—like that was even possible—until the moment she let me get her into bed. Then I would get to live out every wicked fantasy I’d been having since the day I laid eyes on her. Of course once the multitudes of orgasms I planned to give her were over, I’d go back to treating her well. I wasn’t a fucking douchebag after all.

She listened intently as I went over her new weapon with her. I could see the gears turning in her head, filing away information for later, as I showed her how to clear the gun. Then I showed her how to clear a jam if it happened. How to properly load the magazine, and everything else that she’d need to know. When I finally fell silent she gave me a big smile.

“Is that it?” There was a teasing note in her tone that made me laugh.

“Sorry,” I told her. “I know that was a lot of information, but I’ll go over it all again for you next time. Eventually it will sink in and you won’t even have to think about any of it. We go over things again and again so that in the heat of the moment it’s completely natural for you to do what needs to be done without having to even think. Like reloading. I’ll run you through drill after drill.”

“Do you do this for all your clients?”

“Hell no,” I said, barking out a laugh. “You’re getting the in-depth version. Most of our clients come in just to shoot. I do run a few classes every so often, but it’s rare.”

“Well, thank you,” she told me. “I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

The genuine gratitude in her voice had my instincts kicking into gear. This wasn’t about being scared because a branch broke her window. There was something else going on with her. I wanted to ask her what it was. To pry until she spilled all her deepest, darkest, secrets to me. And then I wanted to take care of anything in her life that she needed help with.

Fuck.

I was a goner.

I may as well be honest with myself about that, at least. I’d been fighting it because who fell in love with a woman they saw once? This fucking guy. No way I would have admitted it until now, but she’d hooked me that first day when she’d glanced over as I pulled up on my bike. Sure, every interaction from that point on was what had me falling harder than a tree in a forest, but that was the moment this all started. It was like something out of one of those cheesy movies that played around Christmas time, but it seemed to be my reality. Now I just needed to convince her that she wanted to date a man like me.

Once I got her set up, the weapon loaded, I stepped in behind her on the firing line. I pushed the button on the side of the divider and the holder whirred as it moved forward. I reached around her, aware that I was invading her personal space, and clipped the paper target to the holder. I gritted my teeth as her ass brushed against my hard-on as I hit the button again to send the target back. I set it at about fifteen feet. I wanted it nice and close so she could get used to everything without having to worry about distance. That would come later.

“Okay,” I said, speaking low next to her ear. The earmuffs were in the way of me being able to make this sexy, but it was fine. I’d make do. “You’re not wearing a belt so we’re not going to worry about a holster for now.” I picked up the gun and wrapped her hands around it, showing her how I wanted her to hold it. “Arms out.” Her feet were too close together, so I placed my leg against hers and gently pushed it out until her stance was proper. I noticed her breathing change as I did so and smiled to myself. She wasn’t unaffected by my touches.

When she was where I wanted her—for shooting guns anyway—I put my hands on her hips. I couldn’t help but squeeze a little. “When you pull the trigger, I want you to give a nice slow, steady squeeze. The gun is going to buck in your hand, just let your hands move with the motion of the pistol then reposition. Don't fight it.”

She nodded, staring straight forward at the target as I put my eyes and ears on. She was waiting for me like I'd instructed her to do during my little spiel. She was a fast learner. Her stance was perfect now.

“Fire when ready.”

She sucked in a breath and I saw her hold it—another tip of mine—and her finger gave a steady squeeze. When the gunshot rang out, she froze, staring down the lane.

“Perfect,” I told her, watching her closely. She was tense. “You hit the five ring.” I stepped in close, wrapped my hand around the barrel of the gun and she released it. I laid it down, then pointed at her target. She was still tense and not moving. “Camila?”

Her head turned and she stared at me with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure what emotion was swimming around in them, but when I frowned she seemed to snap out of it. “Good.” Her voice was soft, but steady.

“You ready to try again?” I asked.

She swallowed hard, but then she nodded and picked up the gun again. She settled back into her stance once more, looking more sure of herself this time.

“Fire.”

Bang.

We continued that way until her ammunition was gone. I may have spent more time correcting her stance and grip than I needed to, but it gave me the opportunity to wrap my arms around her, so I took it. By the time we were finished, we’d moved the target back and she was starting to perfect her grouping. It always helped to get someone who’d never shot before because they didn’t have any bad habits that needed to be fixed. I stared down into her smiling face as she looked down at her target, which looked like Swiss Cheese, then up at me.

“Thank you so much for helping me with this,” she said, her voice a little breathless.

“Anytime. In fact, if you want to keep practicing we can meet here once or twice a week.”

“Yes, please,” she replied, her eyes dancing with happiness.

“Addictive isn’t it?”

“It really is,” she answered. “Is that weird?”

“No,” I said with a chuckle. “Or if it is, then I’m weird, too. I’ll show you where the bathroom is so you can wash your hands, then we’ll go grab an early dinner.”

I walked her back out to the front and showed her to the bathroom, then leaned against the counter as I waited. Overdrive grinned at me. “You mind brassing up for me?” It was typically a shooter’s responsibility to pick up the shell casings they left behind—unless they rolled past the firing line, then we got it later—but I didn’t want to waste time with that right now. Though, watching Camila bend over to get all the casings would be fun. I’d teach her about that next time. I’d thrown enough information at her today.

“Not at all,” he replied. “Gives me something to do.” He was studying me.

“Don't.”

“Don’t what?”

“You know what, asshole,” I told him with a shake of my head. I glanced over at him. “I have something I’m going to need to take care of in the next couple of days. You want to give me a hand?”

“Depends,” he replied, putting his arms on the counter and leaning forward. “You talking something shitty? Or something fun?”

“I need to teach someone some manners.”

“I’m in,” Overdrive said without any hesitation.

We both fell silent as Camila came out of the bathroom. My eyes raked over her and I couldn’t help but pray for some strength. It wasn’t going to be hard to spend the evening getting to know this beautiful woman. I, on the other hand, would be hard all night.