Page 24 of Fast Justice

Once they got their ear and eye protection on, he led her through to the range, to the last lane at the end, figuring a little privacy would make her more comfortable. He showed her how to load the magazine, slide it into position, then got her into a proper stance. She glanced at him over her shoulder, uncertain.

“I’ll guide you through everything until you get the hang of it.”

“Good. Thanks.”

Moving in to stand mere inches behind her felt strangely intimate. He did it slowly, giving her time to adjust to having him in her personal space, in a position that had to make her feel vulnerable after what she’d suffered. He wanted to help her past that.

Reaching around her body to place his hands on hers in a gentle but firm grip, he guided her arms into position and adjusted her aim.

She stood rigidly before him, arms outstretched. As if her body and mind rebelled at having a big, powerful man so close, and in a position where she couldn’t see him.

Brock didn’t move, letting the tension slowly bleed out of her muscles. The fruity scent of her shampoo teased him, his awareness of her so acute that he could track each steadying breath she took, could see the elevated pulse throbbing in her neck. “Okay?”

She nodded, squared her shoulders, her attention on the target at the end of the lane.

“Fire one shot when ready.”

She squeezed the trigger, jolted a little as the Glock kicked in her grip. Brock steadied her hands, helping absorb the recoil and preventing her arms from jerking upward. The round hit the extreme right edge of the target, missing the outline of the person’s head and torso completely.

“Adjust your aim a little down and to the left, lock your wrists.” He eased her hands into place and relaxed his grip, cradling her hands this time rather than controlling them now that she knew what to expect. “Again. Fire when ready.”

She squeezed the trigger. This time the bullet hit the target in the lower left abdomen.

“Good. Try again.” He eased his grip even more.

Victoria adjusted her stance and aim and methodically emptied the mag one shot at a time, the final few rounds hitting the target center mass in a ten-inch grouping. Brock counted out each shot, moving away from her little by little even as he wanted to stay close.

When the slide locked open on the final shot she stopped, lowered the weapon and turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. “How was that?”

Damn, that sparkle in her eyes was pretty. “That was pretty damn impressive for your first time.”

The smile she flashed him squeezed his insides. “Can I do it again?”

If it meant putting another one of those smiles on her face, and him getting to be the recipient of it? “Absolutely. Release the mag, then you load it this time.”

He supervised while she loaded in the bullets and slid the mag home. Once he set up a new target for her he stepped back against the wall and folded his arms to watch, part of him feeling guilty as hell for the way his gaze roamed over her body while her back was to him, taking in the long, lean lines of her.

Victoria faced the new target, aimed, and methodically emptied the mag, ending with another grouping center mass, tighter than the first. Lowering the empty weapon, she turned to face him, pulling off her eye protection as she gave him another smile she couldn’t possibly know affected him so much. “That felt good.”

He grinned, completely charmed and a hell of a lot more interested than he had any right to be. “It looked good.” Almost as good as she did.

She broke eye contact, her cheeks flushing but the hint of a smile still in place. “I think I’m done for the day.”

“You sure?”

She met his gaze once more. “Yes. I got what I needed.” The look in her eyes told him she meant more than the opportunity to fire a weapon. “Thank you.”

“Then I’m glad. And you’re welcome.” He took the empty weapon from her when she held it out, got the door for her as they stepped back into the observation area.

“Would you be up for doing this again sometime?” she asked, stopping near the bank of long, wide windows along the inner wall.

“Absolutely.”

“Not sure I’m ready for a rifle yet.”

The weapon Ruiz’s men had murdered her family with. No surprise she wasn’t up for firing one yet. “That’s okay. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

She watched him with those dark, shadowed eyes for a long moment, a subtle but unmistakable tension winding between them. A bone-deep, elemental awareness of each other that made him go still and his heart pound.

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