Page 36 of Light on Love
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“How do you feel about starting work with some weapons?” Brett asks, leaning back against the wall in the training barn. Laurel is seated on the mat in the center of the space stretching.
“What weapon?” She tilts her head up at him in curiosity, her braid falling over her shoulder. They hadn’t had time to do more than kiss this morning after Brett’s admission and now that they’ve come back together to train, she’s humming with need to continue what they started. But he seems content to keep this time to train so she tries to push the feeling aside.
“I’d prefer it if you get handy with a firearm, if you’re comfortable with that.”
Laurel thinks of the blade that ripped into Brett because there were too many men coming at him too quickly, and shivers. The idea of having to get that close to someone and do that, she cuts the thought off. “A gun seems better, yeah.”
Brett pushes open the door beside him and motions for her to lead the way. His hand brushes her lightly as she steps by him, and his eyes look at her like he wants to devour her.Maybe he is feeling this need as well, she thinks.
But then she can see inside the vault and her eyes widen as she takes it in. She notices the keypad as she passes the entry, and then the steel back of the door. The walls the weapons are displayed on also seem to be made of a steel-like material. There’s a counter running across the back of the room and drawers below labeled with various ammo types and knives. The open shelves above the counter are filled with cleaning products for the weapons, and the walls on either side of her are lined with pegs, holding the guns floating in the space.
“So, this is where you keep all those tricks you have up your sleeve?” Brett nods with a smirk, leaning in the doorway.“Which one am I using?”
“You tell me,” he answers, amusement in his tone.
Laurel selects a weapon from the wall and Brett collects the necessary rounds before leading her outside to a waiting ATV. They ride along the river until they get to his shooting range, targets set up with a dirt mound barrier behind them. Brett walks her through information about the firearm she selected. He teaches her to load and unload it and has her follow suit. Then he begins walking her through a proper stance.
“You’ll keep your feet shoulder width apart. And now move this foot back,” he says, tapping her right thigh. “Good, now keep your knees just barely flexed, we don’t want them to lock. Hold it in both hands, arms straight, and bring the gun up to eye level.”
Laurel moves as she’s told and then he has her break the stance and set back up repeatedly, getting into the motion.
“Okay,” he says, “and now start shooting.”
She fires off three rounds then flips on the safety, releases the most recent cartridge, and checks the chamber is clear. Just as he taught her. Laurel places the gun on the wood stand beside her and turns to see Brett leaning against the ATV, grinning at her.
“Let’s go see how I did!” she says, motioning towards the target.
He laughs, “you tore that thing apart with how many bullets you just shot off. If you want to check, we do it between rounds next time.”
She turns back to face the paper target, “well I did good then, right? Being able to tear it apart.”
Brett strolls over to her and cradles her face in his hands, the corner of his lip tipping up, “I am worried that you can’t tell that from here, should we get you glasses? But yes, you’re a natural, killer.”
—
Laurel’s shooting lesson cut into her time at the stables, so she heads straight to the house after to work on Operation Dark Horse reports. She’s barely there for more than an hour when she looks up from the notes in front of her to the sound of Brett opening the door and stepping inside the house. She smiles as he comes over to sit beside her and wrap his arms around her.
“You’re done early,” she says, leaning up to kiss his jaw.
“What can I say, I missed you. And it hasn’t been easy focusing today when I just want to have you in my arms,” he sighs.
Laurel leans back to look at his face fully. He’s grinning lazily at her, his cowboy hat still on his head, and her heart flutters at the sight of him. She reaches up and plucks the hat off the top of his head, placing it on her own.
Brett adjusts it on her and then kisses her, nibbling her lip. She leans into his kiss, pressing her hands into his chest and running them upward until they’re locked around his neck. He moves to step between her legs, pulling her closer, when Laurelslides back and jumps up from her seat. Brett’s eyebrow raises in question as she takes his hand and leads him further into the house.
“Haven’t you heard the rule? Wear the hat, ride the cowboy,” she explains, flashing him a smile over her shoulder.
Brett’s eyes smolder, his own smile wicked now. “And you’ll leave my hat on the whole time? And nothing else?”
Laurel nods, “that was my plan.”
“Fuck, baby. Giddy up,” he breathes, scooping her up and carrying her the rest of the way up the stairs.
—
“We weren’t very productive today,” Laurel says, her head on Brett’s shoulder, hand across his bare chest.