Page 47 of One Hot Moment

My sister beams at him. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

We follow Sabrina into the entryway, where she asks us to remove our shoes so we won't "soil the natural beauty" of the wood floors. Yeah, she always does that. My sister often walks around barefoot outdoors, after all. She is very talented at decorating her home, and I sometimes envy her for that skill. Sabrina can look at an empty room and envision exactly how it should be decorated.

When she starts talking about the architectural elements and the furniture, Spencer seems fascinated by it all. He praises Bree's decorative choices, and she beams again. I haven't seen her this animated in a while. Her divorce years ago had left her reeling for quite a while. Then her new boyfriend broke up with her a couple of months ago, and she hasn't really dated since. I think meeting Spencer has changed her outlook. She doesn't want my boyfriend, though. She wants a guy who's just as wonderful as Spence.

Who wouldn't? He's a real catch.

Too bad his brother is already taken. Maybe Spencer and I can find a hot Brit for my sister among his bevy of friends.

Spencer turns in a circle, taking in the totality of my sister's tiny home. "You have a full kitchen with storage cabinets, just like your parents and Tabitha. A ceiling fan too. And you've got actual stairs leading up to your loft bedroom. The bathroom is remarkably spacious too. You've done a fantastic job, Sabrina."

Yeah, my sister is now blushing.

Good job, Spence, you're a sister whisperer.

Now that Spencer has visited all our houses, we go back outside and head to the semi-secluded area of the clearing where Mom and Dad are waiting for us. The shooting range has been set up. We're ready to do some target shooting. Dad hands out noise-canceling earmuffs for everyone. I give Spencer a few minutes of training, showing him how to hold the revolver I'd suggested he should try first. It's relatively small, almost a derringer, and doesn't kick too much.

"How good are you at hitting the target?" Spencer asks. "I'm sure I'll need a great deal of practice to get anywhere near the center."

Sabrina grins. "Tabby never told you, huh?"

"Told me what?"

"My sister is a crack shot. She won five medals in junior competitions."

Spencer's brows hike up. He stares at me blankly for exactly three seconds. "Why didn't you ever mention that to me? It's impressive."

I shrug one shoulder. "That's a part of my past. I gave up competitive shooting a long time ago. Now, I just do it for fun. And to make Bree jealous."

"Ha-ha," my sister says. "I'll whup you today for sure."

"Spencer hasn't taken his first shot yet. Wait your turn, Sabrina."

I show Spencer how to line up his first shot, then move behind him, out of the trajectory of his shot. He fires, and the slight kick surprises him. But he grins at me over his shoulder and gives me a thumbs-up signal, letting me know he's happy with his first attempt. He didn't hit the center of the target. But his shot did hit about halfway to the middle.

He holds one earmuff away from his head.

I figure he wants to talk to me, so I pull my muffs off.

"That was fun," he says. "I assumed I'd hit the tree behind the target. Didn't do that badly, did I?"

"No, you did great. Now that you've gotten the feel of it, try again. You'll be more relaxed this time."

He nods and lines his shot up with the target, then squeezes the trigger.

We all clap and cheer. Spencer hit the inside circle, right on the edge.

Spencer makes three more shots until his revolver is out of ammo. Then Bree takes her turn, doing better than Spencer but not as good as the rest of us. When Mom has her turn, she hits the inner circle every time but can't quite make it a bull's-eye. Dad does just as well as Mom did.

Now, it's my turn.

"You lot are highly skilled, for sure," Spencer says. "But I'm looking forward to seeing Tabby in action. Hit a bull's eye for me, love."

"I'll do my best."

After getting in my shooting stance, I line up my gun's sight with the target. Then I take a second or two to relax. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Spencer watching me with rapt attention. I can't hear what he says, thanks to my earmuffs, but he mouths words that I do understand.

Go, Tabby!

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