I’ve helped her get in position, and there’s no reason to stay right behind her, but I don’t step back. I don’t know that I could.
“One eye open or both?”
“Let’s just worry about getting used to pulling the trigger before lining up a shot.”
She nods slightly in understanding, the top of her head brushing my beard.
“When you’re ready,” I repeat as we stand quietly for a few minutes.
She fires. The bullet doesn’t puncture the target, but like I told her, we weren’t really focusing on that.
“Good. Now again.”
It doesn’t take her as long to fire the second time, and the third and fourth come in quick succession.
By the time the magazine is empty, her hands shake wildly, but she lowers the gun, placing it on the table in front of her before spinning around with a huge grin on her face. I know the tremble there now is adrenaline and thrill rather than fear.
“How do you feel?”
She swallows. “That was pretty cool.”
“Okay. Let’s load it back up and do it again.”
I step back, not offering to help as she discharges the magazine and begins to reload.
“Who taught you to shoot?”
“The Army.”
“Really? How long did you serve?” she asks as she slides the magazine back into the gun too softly, frowning when it pops back out. She hits it a little harder the second time, smiling once again when it clicks into place.
“Eight years. It seems like a lifetime ago.”
“Well,” she says as she places the gun back on the table to turn to look at me, “thank you for your service.”
I give her a quick smile, doing my best at trying not to watch her mouth when she speaks, but her lips are like a beacon, drawing my attention there.
“Are you trying to distract me to keep from shooting?”
She blinks, her pretty eyes flashing with mirth, before turning back around.
“Still need help getting lined up?”
“I think… I’d like some help.”
I step back in behind her, only this time when I touch her arms, my hands slide from her elbows to her wrists. I’m close enough to track her change in breathing pattern, and against my better judgment, I end up closer to her this time.
Her first three shots are fine, but the third manages to hit the line holding the target. She gasps as we watch the target flutter to the ground.
“Oh no,” she whispers.
“It happens more often than you’d think,” I tell her.
Thankfully, she puts the gun down before turning to face me, and I don’t immediately move away. We end up standing so close she has to crane her face up to look me in the eye. My fingers twitch to run them down her cheek or cup the back of her neck.
“Am I in trouble?”
I shake my head, words lost to me right now.
“I broke it.”
I watch as her eyes dart back and forth between mine, but for the life of me, I can’t find my own voice. Has she always been this gorgeous?
“Quinten?” She blinks again. “I’ll pay to have it fixed.”
“Hit the line?”
Her eyes snap toward Adam’s voice as he comes into the room, and it’s only then that I’m able to take a step back.
“Yeah,” I say, running my hand down my face and over my beard. My lips tingle with unmet need, leaving me feeling like I’m missing something.
“I’m going to walk her to her car. I’ll be back to take care of everything.” I turn and begin to walk out of the room, unsure if she’s even following me.
Chapter 12
Hayden
I sigh in frustration, closing my eyes for a solid minute before I open them again. When I type in the numbers again, it’s still wrong.
I’ve been working on this one account for the last hour, and it isn’t adding up. If I ever had a good reason to hate Mondays, this would be one.
I type in the numbers again. I’m coming up with the same total, but the account is still showing a different balance. I flip through invoices, checking those for the fourth time before finally giving in.
After shoving everything on that account into a folder, I head toward my boss’s office. He doesn’t bother to look up from his own work when I tap on the doorframe. This is nothing new. He’s not a jerk, but he’s a little aloof most days, focused on his own work.
“I’m having trouble with the Grimsson account.”
His head snaps up, and I wonder if maybe he was so fixated on his own work that he didn’t hear my knock.
“Why are you working on the Grimsson account?”
I tilt my head in confusion. “Because I’m the accountant.”
He holds his hand out, and it takes a few breaths before I realize he’s wanting me to hand over the folder.
“Don’t worry about this one,” he says when it’s in his hand. “I’ll figure it out. It’s a little more complicated than the others.”