Page 23 of When He Defends

Someone was certainly in a mood. But, actually, Gray had been in amoodsince the motel break-in at Briar. Cold, distant, fully activated asshole mode. Uh,mood. Or maybe mode, too. Whatever.

“Before we go into the field again,” his take-no-shit voice told her, “I want to make certain all the basics are covered with you.”

Oh, he did? “If I prove that I’m a stellar shot, does that mean I get to start carrying my own weapon in the field? Because, otherwise, this whole exercise is pointless.” She wanted a gun. Either he gave her one or she’d just bring her own gun that she normally kept locked securely at home.

“Put six bullets in the heart and two in the head, and you can carry your own weapon in the field.”

The agent nearby wasn’t laughing any longer. He sidled a bit closer even as he cleared his throat. “Uh, jeez, maybe make it easier, boss.”

“Maybe mind your own business, Rylan.Now.”

“Minding my own business, sir, yes, sir.” Rylan Tate rushed back.

Emerson tested the weight of the weapon in her hand. “You don’t have to bite off anyone’s head.”

“I wasn’t biting?—”

“If you’re angry with me about something, just say it.” She wasdyingfor the man to say something. An icy wall had been built between them. Was it because of what hadalmosthappened in her motel room between them? Or because of her oversharing about her dad? A cold lump formed in her gut because she feared that he didn’t think she was capable of handling the job. Not anymore.A ticking time bomb.“You’re wrong if you think I can’t handle myself.”

“Six in the heart. Two in the head.”

She put down the gun. Grabbed her ear protection. She already had on protective glasses. Standard equipment at the shooting range. “How about give me a little space?”

He backed away. Put on ear protection.

She didn’t bother glancing at the agents who’d all gathered to watch. Emerson knew she was the show they’d come to see. The consultant, having to prove she could handle the job.

Her breath expelled slowly. She’d been at this shooting range before. When she’dfirstgotten the position as consultant. She’d been out there with various supervisors, and she’d demonstrated that she certainly knew how to handle a weapon.

But, um, there had not been a requirement for six in the heart. Two in the head. Not when she’d fired at the target before.

She picked up her weapon. Shifted her stance. Gray didn’t understand her at all. Or her mother. Because Emerson’s mother had been in politics for a very long time. But Maxine Marlowe had also come from an extremely wealthy family, one that kept guards close at all times. Emerson’s mother had made sure thather daughter was always surrounded by protection when she’d been growing up.

And perhaps Emerson had convinced some of those guards to give her shooting lessons. A lot of lessons.

She stared at her target.

Six to the heart. Two to the head. Sure, she could do this. Hopefully.

She fired.

And when she pulled off her ear protection a few moments later, the applause had already started.

“Nailed it!” Rylan called out even as he pushed the button to bring her target forward for all to see. As that target surged toward her, almost seeming to fly, Emerson could see that she had, indeed, hit her marks. Sure, one hole on the heart was a little close to the left side, but it had still fallen within the designated area. She’ddoneit.

Six to the heart. Two to the head.

“Happy now?” Emerson demanded as she whirled toward Gray.

“That’s not the right word.” His expression was inscrutable. Typical Gray.

Other agents called out their congratulations. He, however, did not.

“I think you’re gonna have to marry me,” Rylan announced.

Emerson jerked in surprise. Her body swung toward him.

Rylan—handsome, with close-cropped, blond hair and warm brown eyes that always seemed amused—grinned at her. “With shooting like that, you need to marry?—”