She deserved than all of me. I just needed to figure out what came next so I could give that to her. First, I had to make sure she was around to accept me.

“I see you like this one, little lady. A revolver is certainly a more suitable gun for you.”

He grinned at me but then cleared his throat when he saw my warning look. Bart was old and set in his ways and didn’t think much of women with guns, but he was also wise enough to know I wouldn’t tolerate his biased views when it came to Lake.

“Sorry, I just like the classic look of it,” she corrected a little too sweetly. I knew she picked up on his meaning but hid her irritation with sarcasm. I was usually on the receiving end of it, particularly during the week when she becomes a hormonal bitch. “What I really want to see is this one.”

My chest swelled with pride when she pointed at the bigger, more powerful weapon beside it. She looked at me for approval when the owner turned to grab his key, and I nodded. It was impressive and had a helluva kick, but I’d teach her how to handle it.

“Have you ever held a gun?” Bart questioned as he rested the gun on the glass.

“Yes.” His furry brows lifted, but he quickly recovered after a quick glance at me.

“Ever shot one?”

“No.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and grabbed a box of rounds.

“I just need to run down the safety protocol before you start.”

“Ok.”

“The first are simple. Don’t shoot anyone here and don’t shoot yourself. Keep the peacemaking end pointed down range at all times.” He rambled off the rest of the rules while I paid the fee and purchased the targets and ammo. When he finished, I grabbed the box of rounds and gun case, then led her to the lanes.

“It’s loud in there,” she shouted.

I shouldered off my pack and dug out the ear and eye protection. I handed her a brand new set I had picked up for her while she was in class. She gushed over the bright blue buds and clear goggles as if I’d just handed her a diamond ring. I smiled and rolled my eyes while she put them on and then opened the door for her to enter.

When we reached our bay, I sat down our stuff and grabbed the paper targets, staple gun, and cardboard. The hanger for the target was already pulled in so I set up the target and sent it out to the furthest mark.

She looked at me as if I was crazy, and I resisted the urge to laugh.

Instead, I bent low until my lips rested on her ear. “Watch me.”

And because I couldn’t leave it there, I trailed my lips down the side of her neck, feeling her shiver beneath me. She looked up with a painful expression, begging with her eyes to be fucked. Ignoring her plea, I pushed her safely behind me and shoved the magazine clip into the gun.

I set up to take the first shot and once I had my aim perfectly nested, I didn’t hesitate. I emptied the clip into the target and swept the brass off the counter once I was done. Lake came to stand next to me and pulled the target in with narrowed eyes. I braced my hip against the counter and crossed my arms as I watched her study the target.

“You’re a good shot.”

“Thank you. Your turn.” She suddenly looked nervous as I set up the next target and sent it out. This time, I stopped it at the first mark. I loaded the clip, handed her the gun, and waited. I needed to see where her instincts led her.

She maintained a steady grip despite her nervous flush, but her awkward positioning displayed zero control over the weapon. She flipped the switch of the safety, aimed and fired. I searched the target and was relieved that she, at least, hit the target.

I reached out and flipped the safety so she could lower her arm. “First thing you need to know is that you don’t fire until you’re sure of your shot.”

“You didn’t hesitate,” she quipped.

“I was sure of where I was aiming.”

She blew her bangs away and turned to face me. “What makes you think that wasn’t where I was aiming?”

“If you shoot, you should shoot to kill.”

“I hit it, didn’t I?”

“You hit the paper, but you didn’t kill your target.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The silhouette,” I pointed out. She studied the target again. Her lips formed a perfect O when she understood. “Try again, but this time, fix your footing.” I paused, remembering her comment in the car. “And you were right. It is like bowling.”

She immediately fixed her footing and looked to me for approval. I made some minor adjustments and then showed her how to grip the gun properly.