Page 141 of Overcast

That I’m trusting him, and I don’t want him to learn that yet, afraid things might change.

“Gotta use your words, Stormi.” When my response isn’t immediate, he brushes stray hairs away from the side of my face to push them behind my ears. “You’re doing a good job.”

“I just feel...comfortable with you being behind me. You’re taking the recoil, right?”

“Ah, right.” He arranges himself back where he was, settling his hands on my body again. “Better?”

I bow my head. “Yes.” Not waiting for his next instruction, I take it upon myself to pull the trigger and take my time with each shot.

When I’ve emptied the clip, Emric reaches over to take the gun from me and strides towards the paper silhouettes I shot at.

I follow him to where he stops, and he shakes his head with his back to me.

“Damn,” he quips, then sneaks a peek at me from over his shoulder. “Gutshot?”

My eyes widen. “Really?” I round him and take a look for myself.

I don’t remember how many shots I took, but I got two inside the black part that was the body of the silhouette.

“You got a thing with shoulders, huh?” His voice is teasing, but I still hit him with a weak slit of my eyes.

“You’re impossible.”

“Most of the time.”

“Mhm. Just for that, sir, I want dinner and to play cards tonight. I saw a deck on the kitchen counter.”

“What, do you know how to play go-fish?” A hearty laugh protrudes from his lips as I smack him in the arm and reach behind him.

“Give me that gun so I can shoot you in the ass with it.” He steps away and hides the gun behind his back.

“Now, Stormi,” he tsks. “No need to get violent.”

I make another half-attempted lunge for it. “Too soon to say I learned from the best?”

His eyes go round in mock amusement. “The best, eh? Don’t go stroking my ego, sweetheart.”

“Trust me, I don’t need to. You stroke it all by yourself, I’m sure.” The moment the double entendre migrates from my vocal cords, I burst out into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

“You think stroking myself alone is hilarious?” Emric hedges, suddenly unamused at him being the butt of the joke. “Ha, ha.”

I cover my mouth, struggling to stop myself at how absolutely incredulous and affront he appears right now. The man who always has a serious and aloof look on his face considers me with a mirror of shock and outrage.

And I can’t believe we’re talking about him masturbating.

There must’ve been some type of loopy side-effects to those drinks from last night because I am not the same woman who walked into that bar.

“You’re a cruel woman,” Emric digresses as he gawks at me settling myself down from lack of brain cells.

“Don’t worry, champ,” I profess. “You can get your pride back tonight, after dinner, when we play cards.” I pivot on my heels and make my way back inside the house. “And we’re playing Black Jack. I’ll go easy on you since I’m a master at go-fish.”

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