Page 39 of Chasing the Wild
The next thing I know is I’m on my belly, lying in the snow, and I’ve got a rifle in my hands while Colt stands over me. I’ve tried three shots, and each time, I’ve missed completely.
I’m hopeless.
My toes are numb.
He’s going to think I’m a failure.
I drop my head and blow out a breath. “I told you. There’s no point teaching me this.”
Colt looks down at me with something that definitely looks like disdain.
Maybe it’s better this way. Having him hate my guts is going to make it a lot easier to keep my feelings tucked away out of sight over the next few weeks until I finish working here.
“You’re not even trying.”
“Well, I don’t needthisparticular skill in order to do my job, do I?”
Colt drops down onto his haunches and grabs my chin. Yanking me to face him, which makes me yelp. His grip is rough and demanding, and it honestly shocks me a little to feel his touch.
Sparks fly beneath my skin where he’s pinching my face.
“You see that point out there, with the big trees and the rock?”
My eyes flicker to the side, in the direction he’s indicating. I nod when I catch a glimpse of where he’s alluding to. It looks like it would make a gorgeous scenic lookout, with a stunning spot to watch Devil’s Peak from at sundown.
“Round here, that’s known as the Ridge. If one of those assholes tries to tell you he wants to take you out there, you’ll know he only wants one thing.”
I’m struggling to see what this has to do with shooting a gun.
“Do it again.” He pushes my face back towards the target.
“I can’t.”
Behind me, I can hear Colt’s teeth grinding. I’m expecting him to storm back off toward his horse and leave me here to wallow in my feelings of inadequacy. But then the snow crunchesbeneath his heavy weight and the next moment he’s lying beside me.
Oh, god. I can’t handle having him this close. The scent that is so perfectly him captures me with the swirl of leather and masculinity.
He positions himself with his arms wrapping my body from behind.
I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.
My body is a traitorous little bitch, who starts to preen and swoon and heat up as his weight shifts at my back.
Colt’s mouth is so close to my ear, I can feel his breath brush the fine hairs around my face. I’m instantly a puddle. All my efforts of the past week have flown straight out the window leaving me right back there in the dark of the kitchen with him staring at my lips.
“If you’re out here on your own, or if something happens to me, I have to know you can look out for yourself, Layla.” His lips graze the shell of my ear, leaving a swarm of butterflies taking flight low in my belly.
He repositions my hold on the rifle, making small adjustments to my stance. Talking me through the small details like breathing, finding my target, and remembering to breathe again.
“Find the sweet spot, and take your aim.”
I line the target up. Painfully aware with every shaky breath that Colt is so close to me. Then I squeeze.
The shot goes off.
I hit the target.
“Good girl.” Colt’s rich voice and warm lips are right at my ear.
