Page 85 of Right Number, Wrong Man
“Did you spike my coffee?” I burst out.
He freezes, his smirk slipping. “What the hell, Hailey? Do you think so little of me?”
My chest tightens. Jeez, way to make me feel like a dick again. This time it’s deserved, though.
“Sorry, that was a low blow and I didn’t even mean it.” I wring my hands, glancing at him through my lashes. “All things considered, you’re a decent guy and—” My voice breaks. “I mean you’re alright when you’re not being an insufferable, know-it-all, overbearing asshole… which is most of the time,” I add quickly.
Colt tsks. “You’re not so bad either. When you’re not bein’ a mouthy, spoiled brat, that is.” He winks and I can breathe again. “Anybody ever tell you that you’re awful cute when you’re angry?”
There goes the air from my lungs again—and I just got some in there.
“I’m always angry around you,” I gasp.
“Well, that explains why you’re always cute.”
I think I can hear my ovaries whooping.Calm down, girls. False alarm, he’s just teasing me, I scold them.
Great, now I’m talking to my organs like some nutjob.
I kick up dust, digging the tip of my boot into the ground. “So, I’ll shoot bottles?”
“It’s way more fun than the range. Trust me.” Colt finishes setting up the bottles and returns to the car, waving me over. “C’mere. I brought a few different guns.”
When I look in the trunk, my eyes go round. The carpet cover is pulled back, exposing an open metal hatch with a lock. Underneath is a small arsenal of guns, slottedinto black foam cutouts. There are two kinds of hunting rifles, a revolver, and a few different pistols.
“Wow, I didn’t know you were such a gun nut,” I say.
“The sniper thing wasn’t enough of a hint? There’s much you don’t know about me. Dad got me into guns and hunting when I was a boy and today it’s my turn to pass on the knowledge. But you’ll start with this one.” He points at the pistol in his holster.
I pout. “No.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll show you?—”
“No,” I interrupt and point. “I wantthatone.”
32
HAILEY
“Absolutely fuckin’not. You’re not taking your first shot with a Desert Eagle,” Colt says, eyes hard. “This ain’t the movies. You’ll practice with my 9mm pistol. When you get the basics down, I’ll consider graduating you to heavier weapons.”
I roll my eyes. “But you’ll let me try the Deagle later?”
“If you stop rollin’ those pretty whiskey eyes at me and behave yourself, I might consider it.”
Pretty whiskey eyes? Am I having auditory hallucinations?
He draws his pistol and positions himself by the tree line opposite the fence. “Stand next to me,” he orders and my legs react before I realize I’m walking to him.
It’s a reflex, my body following the dominant tone of Colt’s voice. My pulse drops to my pussy when I notice the familiarity in my mindless obedience. It’s the same way I feel with Jax.
“Basic safety rules first,” he says. “Are you listening?”
I nod, pretending I wasn’t fantasizing about my masked Dom. “Should I have brought a notebook? Will there be a pop quiz, teach?” I quip.
“What did I tell you aboutmisbehavin’?” he asks, head tilting.
My knees sag.
