Page 14 of Regards, Mia

“Jay!”

Laura’s shrill voice stops me in my tracks. My chest aches with longing for a woman who doesn’t want anything to do with me, and all I want is to get her out of my system the only way I know how—to sweat her out. The last thing I feel like doing is answering questions about Emily, who obviously had a much better night than I did. “What?”

Laura frowns up at me. “Are you okay?”

Her question draws a frustrated sigh from the depths of my chest. “I will be.”

The front door opens, and Out of the Box’s first client of the day steps into the gym. Laura greets him, and I take the opportunity to slip out the door.

My feet know the way. I don’t even have to think about which way I’m running to do my usual six mile loop to Gingercake Acres Park and back.

It’s still early enough for a chill in the air, but I’m working up too much of a sweat to be cold. I jog along the cobblestone sidewalks lining Main Street, my mind circling back to Mia on an endless loop.

She’s hot as fuck, but so are plenty of other women. I’ve neverhad one stick in my mind like Mia.

Even after her blunt rejection, I still want her.

They say you always want what you can’t have. And I can’t have Mia James.

* * *

An afternoon break from the gym at the indoor shooting range seems like the perfect way to blow off steam. Target practice always clears my mind.

Just me and my Smith and Wesson thirty-eight special. No small talk. No questions. No need to be polite to strangers.

The noise-canceling ear protection and whir of the ventilation system make conversation difficult, and most people aren’t at the range to socialize.

I must be giving off the don’t-fuck-with-me vibe I’ve honed so well over the years, because no one attempts more than a greeting. It’s been months since I’ve been to the indoor range, but I feel right at home as I stride past the other shooters honing their skills to the empty lane near the end of the row.

Then I see someone familiar.

Fuck me.

I blink slowly, thinking I might have conjured her up with my obsessive thoughts. Because unless there’s another five-foot-two blonde bombshell in Mossy Oak, it’s Mia James in all her glory.

She’s stuns me in a pair of painted on jeans, high heels and a V-neck T-shirt that skims her chest in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

She tosses her head in my direction, and our gazes clash. Her eyes widen, and a brief look of longing flashes in her eyes before it is quickly replaced with irritation.

What did I do to annoy her? Besides make her come?

You’re welcome, babe.

She dismisses me with a greeting and turns her attention to the target. Aiming down the lane, she fires off six shots in rapid succession.

My dick responds as if she stuck her hand down my jeans andstroked it.

Fuck me twice.

I’m instantly rock hard. I’ve never seen anything sexier than Mia with a gun.

I don’t need to look at the paper target to guess her accuracy. The confident flash of her smile tells me everything I need to know.

She straightens and pushes her safety glasses up on her head; her pale blonde hair falling in a straight, silky curtain around the ugly plastic. Her blue eyes assess me with cool detachment. A smirk lifts one corner of her lips. “They let you have a gun?”

Ouch.There goes an enormous chunk of my pride, crashing to the rubber-tiled floor.

Mia doesn’t know my history. What I’ve done or what I’ve been forgiven for. I remind myself I’ve paid my dues, done my time.

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