“No and yes. No, that isn’t the reason I came in here initially. But then I saw you on the bed and…” He reached for the hem, but I grabbed his hand, stopping him.
Rhys laughed. “Wolfe wants to know if you wanna go out to the range for a bit. The sun’s goin’ down, so it’s not quite as hot. Maybe you can get in some practice.”
I bounced up off the bed.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
With a little squeal, I ran to the bathroom to put on my own clothes.
Rhys
The three of them had spent two hours on the range and the time had flown by.
Amy had been open to learning how to shoot more than just a shotgun, eager even, and we’d been more than happy to arm her and show her how to protect herself. Had she known long ago…
No, I didn’t even want to think about that. I couldn’t change history, no matter how much I wanted to.
Wolfe had picked up a compact Ruger at a pawn shop that he told her would be perfect for her. It was, and once Amy understood how the sight worked, the woman was a damn good shot. I had been impressed.
Now that we were back at Wolfe’s, I was showing her how to clean her gun while Wolfe was in the shower.
“So, can I carry the gun with me?” Amy asked, looking up at me.
“You’ll have to take the state-required course to carry open or concealed, but yeah. If you get the license, you can carry it with you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need more practice.”
She openly studied the gun lying on the table, her finger trailing over it. I liked that she wasn’t afraid of it, but I definitely wanted her to get more comfortable. I had grown up shooting, and I was sure Wolfe had, too. That was how our families were. Shotguns, rifles, handguns. They’d been a part of my life for as far back as I could remember. Hell, I'd gone on my first hunting trip with my dad and grandfather when I was four.
Wolfe came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of basketball shorts riding low on his narrow hips, no shirt, and bare feet. He was rubbing a towel over his hair as he came into the kitchen. He looked between us, both of us openly staring.
“What’s up?”
I glanced down at Amy and we smiled at each other. Clearly our brains were on the same wavelength.
“What?” Wolfe asked again, laying the towel over the back of a chair. “What did I miss?”
“It should be a crime for you to walk around without a shirt on,” Amy said, her tone sweet yet mischievous.
“Is that right?”
She giggled. “Luckily for us both, we’ve got the sheriff here with us.”
Wolfe and I both laughed.
“You spend a lot of time comin’ up with that one?” Wolfe teased.
“Nope,” she answered easily. “I’m just witty like that.”
“And sassy,” I noted. “I like it.”
Amy seemed to like that I'd called her that. I assumed she hadn’t been teased much over the years. With the devastation of losing her parents, then her aunt and uncle, and having to live with a monster, she probably hadn’t laughed much, either.
“But sassy might require some punishment,” Wolfe noted.
The instant the word was off Wolfe’s tongue, I was sure he realized what he’d said. However, he didn’t take it back, didn’t stumble over it the way I probably would have.
As for how Amy took it…
I watched her, wondering whether or not she understood that, for most people, it wasn’t referring to the pain that had been inflicted upon her. After all she’d been through…
