Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Erica
His words should haunt me. They should make me bolt as far as my legs will carry me.
I’ve never seen or heard words like his before.
So possessive, but not in a way that makes me scared.
Brew never says or does anything without conviction, that much I’m sure.
When Luna texts me after I get to the range, telling me she’s going to be late, I have a conversation with Pipes about shotguns. Since I don’t have my own piece, I can use one of theirs. There was also some paperwork to fill out.
“You sure you’re ready for this, you look a little pale?” Pipes’ eyebrows knit together.
“I’ll wait for Luna,” I say with an unconfident smile. “It’s my first time.”
“I get that,” he chuckles. “But if you need a lesson or three before she gets here, I’m happy to help.”
Pipes is a good guy. His ol’ lady, Casey, is a paramedic and spends a lot of time at the clubhouse with her sister, Crystal, Ryder’s ol’ lady. They like to keep it in the family at the Rebels.
“Appreciate that—”
“Erica?” Brew’s voice makes me jump.
Placing my hand over my heart, and muttering, “Shit!” I narrow my eyes. “You have to stop doing that.”
“Doin’ what?” He’s holding two giant boxes and I can barely see him over the top of them.
“Sneaking up on people.”
Pipes takes one of the boxes, and Brew’s face comes into view. Is it just me, or did he get fifty times sexier than the last time I saw him?
“Didn’t sneak, walked right in the door.” He looks me over, then says, “Why are you here?”
I stand up a little straighter. “I’m here to grocery shop.”
His jaw ticks. “Funny.”
His gaze flicks to Pipes. “Gotta get the rest of the gear tomorrow, then we’ll set up the new system.”
Pipes nods. “Sounds like a plan.”
They disappear in the back, then a few moments later, Brew appears again. “Didn’t answer my question. Pipes told me you’re meetin’ Luna?”
I look at my phone, seeing a text come through.
Luna
I’m so sorry. I’ll have to raincheck. Had an emergency.
“I was,” I say. “But she just cancelled.”
Me
Hope everything’s okay. Rain check is fine
Brew’s hand is in mine before I can blink. He practically drags me to the range. It’s a weekday, so it’s quiet. And I’ve no idea what I’m supposed to do. Of course, Brew does.
He turns to face me. “So, you wanna learn to shoot?”
I swallow hard. Not really, but I need to know how to protect myself and my daughter.
I shrug. “I think so.”
His brows furrow. “Why?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Why not?”
I must be imagining that jaw ticking once more. Then he counters with, “I know about Steven. Cash called a meetin’.”
My mouth forms an ‘O’.
“I also don’t like hearin’ second-hand information when you could have just told me.”
Who does this guy think he is?
“I only just found out,” I say, which isn’t really a lie. “And I didn’t realize I have to run everything by you, Dylan.”
“That’s quite a mouth you have on you there, you think you can use some of that sass to hit a target?”
“I’m sure I can manage it.”
Seriously, I don’t know why I’m being such a demon to him. It could have something to do with the fact he thinks I should just run to him every time I have a problem. I’m not his ol’ lady. We groped each other one time, and now he thinks he has some rights to me?
As if reading my mind, he says, “What happened between us meant somethin’.”
I want to speak words, but no sound comes out. What do I say to a man who doesn’t usually talk, is gruff and broody, and doesn’t kiss a woman before he makes her scream his name? Maybe it is me that needs to get a grip.
“You said you were ready,” he goes on. “So, you wanna shoot some rounds? I’ll show you how.”
My eyes widen, and the side of his mouth turns up. “I’m sure you’re well versed in combat.”
“I was a Green Beret,” he says. “Some things never leave you.”
Of course, I know some of his past life from Amber, but not much. We all know Brew is a closed book. “What did you do exactly?”
He steps closer. “I maintained order.” Tipping my chin up, my heartbeat accelerates in my chest.
“What did you like the most about Special Ops?”
“There are no rules,” he says without hesitation.
I blink. But there are rules…
“There were a lot of bad people, Sparky. They did very bad things.”
He moves behind me. Then he pulls out his Glock, resting it in front of us. “First rule of safety: treat every gun as if it’s loaded.”
I face the targets as he leans toward my ear, his voice barely a whisper. “I take it yours is?”
“You guessed right. And you always make sure the muzzle is pointed in a safe direction. Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”
Every single muscle in my body aches. Every single word he speaks isn’t really talking to me, it’s talking to my body. A shudder runs through me.
“You’ll also need these.” He hands me a pair of protective eyewear. I pull them on, then he places earmuffs over my ears.
He cages me in, and I can feel his hardness digging into the small of my back.
Holy guacamole.
He slides one side of my earmuffs away, so I can hear him. “Pick up my gun, the safety is on.”
My heart is racing so fast, but I do as he says. The cool metal feels foreign in my hands. Brew’s hands find mine, positioning it correctly. I press my ass back just a little, and I hear his intake of breath.
“You gonna tease me?”
“I didn’t realize I was.”
His mouth is at my neck, just a whisper… and he bites down. My body goes into shock. It’s not overly hard, nor does it hurt, but it’s a message, and my body feels it. The pooling between my legs has me clenching. A sigh leaves my mouth before I can stop it.
My hands start to shake.
“You don’t seem confident with that between your hands.”
“Maybe I’d prefer something else between my hands,” I whisper.
“Touché.”
I don’t know how it happens, but I feel the shift. The connection between us. Does he feel it too?
As if reading my mind again, he mutters in my ear. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I whisper bravely. “You’re the one who keeps telling me I’m not ready for it.”
“Oh, I know I was wrong about that.”
His sweet but spicy scent washes over me. I know it’s impossible, but it seems to permeate through every single cell of my body, capturing me in a moment suspended in time.
Even though my heart is racing wildly in my chest, I still manage to get a few words out, “H-how do you know?”
He places two fingers at the pulse point on my neck. “I can feel it.”
“Did we come here to shoot, or—”
“You want me to stop?”
“No!”
He chuckles, and I blush at my erraticness. “Miss me bad?” He runs his nose up my neck and I shudder.
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
He chuckles and it’s a delicious sound; one I don’t get to hear often. “So, shoot.”
“I- I don’t know what to do.”
He steadies his hands over mine once more, then flicks the safety off. “Relax. What you wanna do is aim at the target, preferably the bullseye.”
“Oh, really?” I laugh sarcastically.
His chest presses against mine as I nestle against his huge frame. This man could surely be the death of me.
I do as he says, even though it’s hard to concentrate with his hands on me. My adrenaline pumping, my cheeks burning because of our close proximity, I curl my finger around the trigger and squeeze. It goes off, and so do I, frightened at how loud it is — even with my earmuffs on.
He removes one hand from mine, lifting my earmuff up at one side. “Again. Squeeze the trigger until you’re all out.”
Holy crap.
I do as he says.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
It’s only when the chamber is empty do I realize his hands left mine and I did it by myself. He takes it out of my hands, then switches the safety back on, laying the gun flat, pointing away from us.
He lifts my earmuffs clean off. “Shall we see how you did?”
I nod, unable to speak.
He leans to the side of us and pushes a button. The paper target moves toward us. As it comes into view, I see my erratic shooting, but one is close to the middle.
“Very good,” he tells me. “I’m impressed.”
“At least I hit the thing,” I agree.
The thing.
His hands at my hips, I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my entire life. “Did you like it?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “More than I expected, but I still don’t think carrying a gun is for me.”
“Don’t have to carry one, but knowin’ how to protect yourself is never a bad thing.”
He spins me in his arms.
“I feel a ‘but’ coming on?” I try to make light of it, but it’s like he can see right through me.
He stares at me like I’m the only thing in the universe. It’s unnerving. Does he look at all women like this? I guess I have nothing to compare it to because I’ve never seen him with a woman at the clubhouse, or anywhere for that matter.
“Nope. But what I would like to know is why your heart’s beatin’ so fast?”
“It isn’t. And in any case, how would you be able to tell that?”
“I’m an ex-Green Beret remember, I know things.” His hand brushes my hair back off of my face, and I’m locked in his gaze. The annoying son of a bitch has me in his grip, and he knows it.
I play the game. “Like what?”
“You wanna know my trade secrets?”
“Yep.” I pop the ‘p’.
“Your cheeks flush whenever I touch you, and your breathing accelerates.”
“Observant.”
“Always.”
Wait, is that a hint of a smile?
“I like that,” the words fall out of my mouth. His face falls in question and I add, “when you accidentally smile.”
He pauses for a beat, then says, “Who says it’s an accident?”
“You’re not the only one who’s observant, Brew.”
Is it just me, or is the air suddenly thick between us?
The pad of his thumb brushes against my cheekbone, and this time I don’t hide my shudder. His voice is low when he asks, “Are you affected by me?”
I give him a lopsided look. “What do you think?”
“I think there’s a lot of things I don’t know about you, Erica.”
I can’t help the next words that fly out of my mouth. “Do you want to know those things, though, that’s the real question.”
He blinks for a fraction of a second, then, “Would I be standin’ here if I didn’t?”