He’s treating me like a lady the next day.
I have no freaking clue what to do with that information, but in my mind, it’s kind of a big deal.
“Um…”
He chuckles. “I know. Me too.”
“I probably have to go.”
“Not yet.” He presses a fast, rough kiss to the top of my head, then pulls away and snatches up a shirt from the end of the couch.
No shoes, no socks, but yes, he has his guns, he takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen. Pouring two steaming mugs of coffee, he leads me away again, toward the front door that leads into the firing range.
“Spencer, no!” I try to dig my heels in, but it’s useless as he pulls me through.
He doesn’t spill a single drop of his coffee, but mine sloshes over the side of my cup and burns my hand. I hiss from the pain, and stop fighting his hold. I’m spilling because I’m jerking against strength I have no hope of beating.
Spencer slows his steps when I hiss, turns back to me with a lifted brow, and when he sees me hastily wiping my hand on my jeans, he brings it up and presses his lips to my palm until I sigh.
He’s being all princely and stuff. He’s not being the crude Spencer I loved to hate at all.
“I’m sorry you burned yourself.” His eyes bore into mine. They’re so deep and pretty, and my heart is already doing that thing I knew it would. “I was trying to move you along, but I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s okay.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and try to regulate my breathing. “I don’t really want to face your friend.”
But because the universe likes to hurt me, Jay’s shots stop, and Spence’s grin grows.
“Well, shit, Spence. I had no clue you had company over.”
“Yes, he did. He knows my car is out front.”
“Yeah, I did.” Chuckling, Jay swaggers forward and draws my eyes away from Spencer.
He’s handsome in a terrifying way, which I guess is exactly how I would describe Spencer. These men carry this air of danger with them, this air of control and competency. Even wearing scratched safety glasses and a goofy grin on his face, Jay is handsome and scary – kinda like if you gave a toddler a gun.
“I saw your car out front, flower girl.” He stops in front of us and grins. “Have a good time?”
I narrow my eyes and growl. “No. Mind your own business.”
“No?” He looks to Spencer. “She didn’t have fun. What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Aren’t you embarrassed?”
“Mind your own business, Bishop. What are you doing here?”
“Shootin’.” His eyes continue to drop to mine. “Fifty feet, six hundred shots, five-forty-five accuracy.” A smirk pulls his lips up. “Impressed?”
“Do you want me to be? Because I know someone who can do that, but with a five-eight-five.”
Their eyes widen. Their chests stop moving.
Spencer grabs my shoulder and spins me around. “Come again?”
“What?”
“You know what he just said? Do you even know what a gun is?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I’ve never seen a gun before in my life. I have no clue what they are, despite the fact they’ve been around for more than seven hundred years. Or do you mean handguns? They were invented more than two hundred years ago. I have absolutely no clue what that metal thing is they hold in the movies.”
Jay nods. “They make the bang-bang noise.”