decide.”
“Eleven?”
“Sure.” If they spent an hour shooting, they’d finish about lunchtime. Then they’d probably end up eating together. This was starting to feel like a date. To her surprise, she didn’t mind the idea of that. There was one problem though. “Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you bring the guns? I don’t have one of my own.”
A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I’ll bring the guns.”
“You won’t mind? Rick won’t let me anywhere near his. I can’t even touch them, forget about shoot them.”
“Well, don’t worry. You can touch mine all you want.” Still smiling, he winked at her.
It was the typical joke, like he always made. Only this time, it didn’t make her laugh like his joking usually did. This time, his double entendre accompanied by that sexy as hell wink had her cheeks heating.
“Uh, Darci?”
“Yes?” Knowing he’d see her blush—there was no hiding it with her coloring—she had to force herself to look at Chris.
“Your pot’s fixin’ to boil over.” He gestured toward the stove.
She yanked her attention off him and his ever present grin, and tried to recover from the deep drawl that all of a sudden seemed to resonate straight through her core. She saw he was right. The water in the pot was boiling so hard it was about to spill over.
Flustered, she flipped the burner off. The pasta must be cooked by now.
“Um, you want to go tell the guys this will be ready in two minutes?” She needed Chris to go away or she might end up spilling boiling water all over herself.
“You got it.”
Only when he was gone could she breathe again, but the twisting inside her remained.
What had she gotten herself into by agreeing to play his date, probably share his room, for an entire long weekend? But given how long she’d been alone, did she really want to get out of it? She’d have to think about that.
CHAPTER 7
Arms crossed and with a doubt-filled expression firmly in place, Brody leaned against the counter and watched Chris pour a cup of coffee. “Your first date and it’s at the range?”
Chris shook his head at his brother. “It’s not a date. She wants to practice. Rick won’t take her so I said I would.”
“Practice for what? You giving her a weapon for this op?”
“Hell no.” Chris stirred sugar into his coffee and raised the cup to his lips.
He needed the caffeine to wake up. He’d slept like crap. No surprise there. He probably shouldn’t plan on getting a good night’s sleep until next Sunday. He sure as hell wouldn’t get any rest during the time she was with him in Florida, or any day leading up to it.
“Now, wait a minute.” Brody pushed off the counter and reached into the cabinet to get himself a coffee mug. “Let’s think about this a bit. A thigh holster strapped around one of those long legs of hers beneath a slinky dress. Phew. That there has all the makings of one hell of a nice fantasy.”
He scowled at Brody. “Quit it.”
Where had his quiet, studious, overly serious little brother gone? It was as if Brody had hit his obnoxious teen years, only in his thirties.
Coffee cup in hand, Brody lifted a brow. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing.”
“No, I haven’t.” At least Chris hadn’t—until his damn brother had put the image into his head. Now he probably wouldn’t be able to think of anything else.
Just like with children who misbehaved, maybe the best thing to do was ignore Brody. Besides, Chris had to get ready. He needed to shower and get dressed for—whatever this thing was with Darci.
It wasn’t date. It was just time at the range, possibly with a few shooting lessons if she needed or wanted some pointers—and it had been all her idea.
The sad part was if he had been asked to spell out his perfect date with no regard to a female counterpart’s enjoyment Chris would probably have picked the same thing. Follow up the gun range with some wings and a pitcher and he’d be
“Eleven?”
“Sure.” If they spent an hour shooting, they’d finish about lunchtime. Then they’d probably end up eating together. This was starting to feel like a date. To her surprise, she didn’t mind the idea of that. There was one problem though. “Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you bring the guns? I don’t have one of my own.”
A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I’ll bring the guns.”
“You won’t mind? Rick won’t let me anywhere near his. I can’t even touch them, forget about shoot them.”
“Well, don’t worry. You can touch mine all you want.” Still smiling, he winked at her.
It was the typical joke, like he always made. Only this time, it didn’t make her laugh like his joking usually did. This time, his double entendre accompanied by that sexy as hell wink had her cheeks heating.
“Uh, Darci?”
“Yes?” Knowing he’d see her blush—there was no hiding it with her coloring—she had to force herself to look at Chris.
“Your pot’s fixin’ to boil over.” He gestured toward the stove.
She yanked her attention off him and his ever present grin, and tried to recover from the deep drawl that all of a sudden seemed to resonate straight through her core. She saw he was right. The water in the pot was boiling so hard it was about to spill over.
Flustered, she flipped the burner off. The pasta must be cooked by now.
“Um, you want to go tell the guys this will be ready in two minutes?” She needed Chris to go away or she might end up spilling boiling water all over herself.
“You got it.”
Only when he was gone could she breathe again, but the twisting inside her remained.
What had she gotten herself into by agreeing to play his date, probably share his room, for an entire long weekend? But given how long she’d been alone, did she really want to get out of it? She’d have to think about that.
CHAPTER 7
Arms crossed and with a doubt-filled expression firmly in place, Brody leaned against the counter and watched Chris pour a cup of coffee. “Your first date and it’s at the range?”
Chris shook his head at his brother. “It’s not a date. She wants to practice. Rick won’t take her so I said I would.”
“Practice for what? You giving her a weapon for this op?”
“Hell no.” Chris stirred sugar into his coffee and raised the cup to his lips.
He needed the caffeine to wake up. He’d slept like crap. No surprise there. He probably shouldn’t plan on getting a good night’s sleep until next Sunday. He sure as hell wouldn’t get any rest during the time she was with him in Florida, or any day leading up to it.
“Now, wait a minute.” Brody pushed off the counter and reached into the cabinet to get himself a coffee mug. “Let’s think about this a bit. A thigh holster strapped around one of those long legs of hers beneath a slinky dress. Phew. That there has all the makings of one hell of a nice fantasy.”
He scowled at Brody. “Quit it.”
Where had his quiet, studious, overly serious little brother gone? It was as if Brody had hit his obnoxious teen years, only in his thirties.
Coffee cup in hand, Brody lifted a brow. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing.”
“No, I haven’t.” At least Chris hadn’t—until his damn brother had put the image into his head. Now he probably wouldn’t be able to think of anything else.
Just like with children who misbehaved, maybe the best thing to do was ignore Brody. Besides, Chris had to get ready. He needed to shower and get dressed for—whatever this thing was with Darci.
It wasn’t date. It was just time at the range, possibly with a few shooting lessons if she needed or wanted some pointers—and it had been all her idea.
The sad part was if he had been asked to spell out his perfect date with no regard to a female counterpart’s enjoyment Chris would probably have picked the same thing. Follow up the gun range with some wings and a pitcher and he’d be
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