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Jodie froze. “What am I doing?”

“You’re favoring the ankle.”

She lowered the rifle slightly. “I am?”

“Yeah. Look at your left foot.”

Jodie glanced down. Her stance looked normal to her.

“Your foot’s okay,” he said. “It’s what you’re doing above it. You’re keeping your weight almost entirely on the right side, which makes sense, but it’s throwing you off.”

“I don’t feel like I am.”

“Probably because you’ve been doing it since Saturday.” Mac came a little closer. “Your body figured out what hurt and started avoiding it.”

Jodie stared down at her legs. Of course. Her body had adjusted without consulting her.

Well, that’s annoying.

“Try again,” Mac said. “Don’t force weight onto the bad ankle. Just bring yourself back toward center until you feel balanced.”

Jodie repositioned and raised the rifle again.

“Nope. Too far.”

She eased back.

“Little more.”

She shifted again.

“There.”

Jodie held still. For the first time since she’d started shooting, she could feel what she’d been doing wrong. The difference was small, but now that Mac had pointed it out, it was obvious.

“Oh.”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

She lowered the rifle and looked at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s most of it. You’re also tightening up before you shoot.”

“I fixed that part already.”

Mac smiled. “Yeah, okay.”

Jodie narrowed her gaze. “That sounded suspiciously Canadian Nice for ‘no, you didn’t.’”

His smile widened, but he didn’t take the bait. “Set up again.”

She did.

Mac moved closer this time, studying her stance from the side. Jodie tried to pay attention to the target and not the fact that he was close enough that she could see the tiny lines at the corners of his gorgeous eyes behind his safety glasses.

“Your shoulder’s coming up,” he said.

Jodie relaxed it.