Page 4 of Rescuing Erin (Red Team #5)

“Have you ever shot a gun?” Colin inquired as he laid his arsenal out on the blanket-covered, wooden bench in front of us.

I tried not to roll my eyes at his stupid question.

“You know I grew up here in Texas, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well? Then why’d you ask?”

“Not everyone in Texas owns a gun, smartass. And, sorry to say, you don’t really look like the huntin’ type.” My nose scrunched at the thought of killing a poor helpless animal. “I see I was right.”

“I don’t know what parts of Texas you’ve been to, that you’d draw that conclusion, but where I grew up, we all learned to shoot as soon as we could walk.”

“Walk, huh?”

Damn, his laugh was sexy. I was almost glad he rarely did it because when he forgot to scowl at me, his smile made him even more good looking. And the deep rumble of his laugh made my girly parts wake up and take notice.

“Pretty much. Daddy bought me my first Mossberg .22 rifle for Christmas when I was ten. He always said, if there were guns in the house, we needed to know gun safety.”

“Smart man.”

“That he is.”

I missed those days, when my dad was just my dad.

When he wasn’t the governor or the president.

The man who used to give me piggyback rides, go on hikes with me, and take me camping in the back woods of our property.

I guess I couldn’t blame everything on politics.

When I hit my preteens, I stupidly favored doing things with my friends.

I’d thought my dad would always be there waiting.

“All right, Annie Oakley, pick which one you wanna start with.”

I looked over the selection of handguns he’d laid out and I knew exactly which one I wanted. I picked up the Smith & Wesson M&P 9mm. The grip was a better fit for my hand than the Sig Sauer, and would have less recoil than the Glock .45 ACP.

“You wanna make a bet?” I asked as I slid my eye protection on.

“A bet?”

“Yeah. You know, a wager.”

“I know what a bet is. What I don’t know is why you’d think it’s a good idea to challenge me.”

“Cocky much?”

“Sweet cheeks, you ain’t seen cocky.”

He wouldn’t be smirking for long, that was for damn sure. Colin had much to learn about me, one of those things being I was a damn good shot. I had the ribbons to prove I’d been the state 4-H shooting sports champion in both rifle and pistol.

“All right, Mr. Dead-eye-dick. Fifty bucks for the tightest grouping at twenty-five feet?”

“I can’t take your money, Erin. ”

“Well, that’s a relief because I’m not planning on giving it to you.”

“You do realize I spend a good amount of time at the range?”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Winner gets a five-minute foot massage.”

“No way. I hate feet. If you’re so worried about losing your money, we’ll do a five-minute shoulder rub.”

“You don’t like feet?”

“Are you stalling?”

His head lolled back, and his deep, belly laugh filled the otherwise silent range.

“All right, Miss. Ladies first.”

With a shrug, I pulled my hearing protection over my ears and loaded the magazine. I settled into a shooter’s stance and brought the familiar weight of the Smith & Wesson eye level and lined up the sights. I slowly took up the slack on the trigger before I squeezed off the full ten-round magazine.

“Well, fuck me sideways.”

“Eh. I pulled to the right on a few of those.”

I had a fist-sized grouping, meaning that all of my bullets had hit within a two-inch diameter on the paper target.

“Went straight for the heart, I see.” Colin shook his head and smiled. “Typical woman.”

He picked up the Sig Sauer and moved over in front of his target.

He, however, did not slowly bring the gun up eye level like I did.

He pushed the barrel in the direction of the target and fired in rapid succession.

When he was done, he had a silver-dollar sized grouping.

From the distance we were from the targets, it looked like there was a big hole where the bullseye used to be.

“Show off.”

“Warned you. You’re not gonna renege, are you? My back is killing me after sleeping on the too hard mattress last night.”

“Glad I turned down the offer of the master bedroom then. The spare room’s bed is nice and comfy.”

I wasn’t buying the story about the hard mattress. I’d seen the invoice for the new furniture on the kitchen table. It cost a bloody fortune. I’d furnished my entire apartment on what he’d spent on the bedrooms alone, and I didn’t have cheap stuff.

“Guess you got lucky,” he said, talking about my choice of beds.

“Right. I think you just want me to touch you.”

“Maybe.”

He removed the magazine and cleared his Sig before setting it back down on the bench and coming to stand next to me.

“You’re aiming,” he told me.

“Um ... yeah. Of course I’m aiming.”

“At twenty-five feet you don’t need to aim.

And if someone was coming at you and already that close there’s no time to line up your sights.

Pick up the Smith.” I did what he asked, and he stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

His work-roughened hands covered mine, and he squeezed.

“Tight grip. Keep your hands close to your body. Bring the gun up chest level and push straight at the target. Don’t worry about your sight picture.

This close all you need to worry about is grip and trigger control. ”

I was having a hard time concentrating on what he was saying.

I’d forgotten about his hands covering mine and was more focused on the fact his very hard front was pressed against my back.

Heat from his body was radiating through the layers of fabric separating our bare skin, but it did nothing to stop the warmth from penetrating.

“Are you listening to me? ”

His hot breath was at my ear, and all I had to do was turn my head and we’d be face-to-face.

I didn’t dare move, or breathe really. For months, I’d tried to beat back the attraction.

It hadn’t gone over well the one time I’d given into it and, in a moment of unusual boldness, kissed him.

It only proved Colin wanted nothing to do with me.

“Of course I am. What else would I be doing?”

“Daydreaming.”

“Whatever. Tight grip, push the barrel toward the target, and trigger control. Got it.”

“Last thing, you’re anticipating the shot. That’s why you’re pulling high and to the right.”

Now that my body had caught fire, I was anticipating a lot, however, recoil wasn’t one of those things.

“Got it. Can you back away now?”

He let go of my hands and stepped back, and I immediately regretted my request.

“Go ahead and reload. I’ll reset the targets.”

Over the next hour we shot hundreds of rounds, and, by the end, my grouping, while still not as tight as his, was much better.

All in all, it was a fun day. Much different than any day I’d spent with Colin thus far.

Normally, it was him escorting me as my bodyguard to different functions around D.C.

and Maryland. Or he was pacing my apartment like a caged beast on afterhours babysitting detail.

The drive back to his house was pleasant, albeit mostly silent.

Until we pulled into his neighborhood and he asked about my relationship with Olivia Cox-Newton, now Olivia Gillonardo, since she’d married Leo.

I was a little taken aback, Colin had gone out of his way not to ask me anything personal.

Most of our conversations consisted of schedules, logistical issues, and my father’s need to wrap me in cotton—especially after Olivia had been kidnapped .

“What about my relationship with Olivia?” I asked for clarification.

“Why haven’t you accepted any of her invitations to visit?”

“We’ve both been busy. Besides, now that I have my own security force following me around, it makes it a little difficult to do anything.”

“Right, because you haven’t had the secret service around you for the last seven years.” He called me out on my lie.

“She has Leo, and her mom’s been sick, and she just found out who her dad is.”

“All the more reason she needs her best friend.”

I was fast becoming annoyed. He pulled into the garage and I debated asking if I could move into the apartment above it, even though Colin had already told me it wasn’t furnished yet.

“What do you want from me?”

“The truth.”

“The truth is,” I snapped, “I was supposed to go out with her that night. But we got into a fight so I didn’t go. It’s my fault they took her.”

“Your fault? There was nothing you would’ve been able to do to stop them.”

“As you said, I’ve always had secret service with me. They stay in the background and try to blend into the crowd when we’re in public, as if that’s really possible. If I’d been there, she would’ve been protected.”

I hated thinking about Olivia’s kidnapping. I hated that I still couldn’t face her. I missed her so much but I couldn’t forgive myself. I let her down.

“Then they would’ve taken her when she went home, or the next day, or the one after that.

She was snatched from the bar because they found their opening.

She was being kidnapped one way or another.

The plan had been set in motion, and no one, especially you, was going to be able to change the outcome. ”

The look on Colin’s face told me he believed what he was telling me.

And that was fine. But it didn’t mean I had to.

If I’d been there with my security detail, Olivia wouldn’t have been taken from the bar, that was a fact.

And it would’ve meant one less day in captivity, one less day being scared, one more day safe in her own home.

I should’ve been there and given that to her.

Instead, I was pissed at her and refused to go out. Then she was gone.