“Right answer.”
“I didn’t realize this was a test, Joel.”
“I’m protecting my family, which now includes Waverly.”
“We love her. Don’t you?”
Time was up. I didn’t want to hear the answer to Noreen’s question. Not like that. Not with an audience. And not when I’d only realized my own feelings a short while ago.
Jogging down the last few steps, I rounded the corner to the kitchen, going straight to the coffeepot for another cup.
“Are you dead set on a hike?” I asked him, a plan formulating in my mind.
“No. What did you have in mind?”
Finn
There was no way I heard her right. But as I stood fifty yards from a fence while she set up a single row of water bottles along the top, I knew my ears hadn’t deceived me.
“Your aim is shit, Finn.”
“When have you ever seen me shoot?”
“I’m basing my assessment on your ax throwing ability. Am I wrong?”
Joel took me to the gun range on more than oneoccasion after the first threat. Why he thought the results would be different was beyond me. I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. It’s the reason he carried a gun and I didn’t.
Instead of telling her she was right, I flipped the script.
“Why do you think you’ll succeed where others have failed?”
“I’ve got the perfect incentive.”
“Yeah?”
Waverly stepped into me, plastering her delectable body against mine. Our height difference had never been more noticeable than it was right then. Probably because she was several inches shorter without her fancy heels on. She went up on her tiptoes, kissing me soft and sweet. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
“Sexual favors,” she breathed against my lips.
My ears perked up. So did my dick.
“Tell me more.”
“If you hit fifty percent of the targets, you can have anything you want.”
My hands swept down to cup her arse. “Anything?”
She nodded; a shy grin spreading across her tempting lips. “Within reason.”
“Let’s do this.”
Sex was a powerful motivator. Or perhaps it was Waverly’s attention to the finer details. She studied me like a hawk; adjusting my stance, grip, and line of sight. Twenty minutes later though, I still hadn’t hit a single bottle.
“You’re tensing up.”
“Kinda hard not to. Recoil is no joke.”
“All right. New tactic. Close your eyes.”
