He readjusted his aim and fired again.
Gwen watched as he fired six shots, all hitting their targets at the far end of the range.
“The sights are off. I’ll have to adjust them at home. It’s shooting to the left of what you’re aiming.” He handed her the gun again. “Try and adjust for the gun’s issue and hit something close.”
She managed one out of five targets.
They finished with the gun she’d nearly taken home. Neil warned her about the kick and braced her body with his. She did her best to ignore the warm feel of him at her back and shot.
The gun tilted her back, into his arms.
“Wow.” Her arms vibrated with the force of the gun.
“I told you.”
She set the weapon down, not willing to shoot it again.
“Giving up?”
She narrowed her eyes and found him smiling down at her.
“You’re taunting me.”
“Maybe. But if you needed to use it, I don’t want you unprepared.”
He wrapped his arms around her again and picked up the gun. He held on to her as she shot the gun two more times, helping absorb the impact. The following rounds came close to their targets, but missed. When the clip was empty, Neil stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. For a moment she stood still, enjoying the feel and scent of the man she’d fantasized about relentlessly since they’d met.
The range had emptied out, leaving only the two of them.
“Not bad, Harrison.”
She laughed. He’d never addressed her by her last name. “Harrison?”
His hands softened on her shoulders. “In the military, we often called each other by our last names. Seemed appropriate with you out here lighting up the place.”
He’d never, not once, said a thing about his military days. That he did so now felt intimate somehow.
“So they called you MacBain?” she asked, removing the plastic glasses she wore to protect her eyes.
“Mac. They called me Mac.” His voice had softened, making it difficult to hear him. She tugged the earmuffs away and twisted in his arms.
He offered a smile, one seldom seen.
“Well, Mac, thanks for the lesson.”
He hadn’t moved away. His hands rested on her forearms. This close, she could see his eyes even through the dark sunglasses. They stared directly into hers.
Her heart kicked in her chest, firing signals throughout her body. Neil lifted his hand to her face, traced his thumb alongside her jaw.
She wanted his kiss so much she could taste it. For one brief moment, she felt him move into her. Then something snapped, and he moved away. His gaze, his body, his hand.
“We should go.”
Gwen wanted to call him out. He wanted her; Lord knew she wanted him. So why did he hesitate?
What was so broken inside of him that made him pull away?
Chapter Nine
The silent ride back to Malibu ate at him.
His gut ached. The floral scent of the shampoo she used found a comfortable place inside his head and took root. He’d never again look at the froufrou shampoo section in the store and not think of Gwen.
He’d tortured himself when he’d wrapped his arms around her. Her tiny frame fit perfectly against his. Not that it mattered.
But it did. He knew it mattered. The only way he was going to escape her was to leave. Hire someone to take his place at Blake’s side, pack his one bag, and disappear.
And what about the raven left with Billy’s body? Was it a warning? A warning that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone other than the remaining members of Neil’s team?
More reason to pack up and leave.
But who could protect Gwen better than him?
Neil knew the answer before he bothered booking a flight.
He didn’t need anyone thinking he cared about her, thus making her a target.
She stared out the window at the passing traffic on the freeway. She should have been riding in the back, where the tinted windows would obscure her face. But Gwen refused. Said he was no more her driver than she was his maid.
“Do you think about it…your time in the military?”
Her question came from nowhere. He wasn’t sure how to answer it.
“Neil?”
“Sometimes.”
“Was it awful?”
He gripped the wheel, recalled the smell of her hair, and ignored the memory of burnt flesh and blood. “War is hell.”
“I can’t imagine. The only violence I’ve witnessed was my brother breaking the nose of a boy chasing me in school. And you and Carter fighting those men in Texas.”
He felt his spirits lift. He’d enjoyed teaching the man hitting on Gwen a lesson in propriety. He flattened his lips and said, “Violence doesn’t solve as many problems as it creates.”
“You’re probably right. The threat of violence does tend to keep people in line, however. Take today for example. We spent the day firing weapons. I doubt anyone would mess with you but I realize how I might be considered vulnerable. If the people out there who would do me harm knew I had a weapon, my guess is they’d look for an easier target. Don’t you agree?”
“Some.” Purse snatchers and cowards.
“I don’t imagine I’ll ever have the need to use the gun for its intended purpose. It does feel right to have one, however.”
That, he completely agreed with.
Short of that ivory tower he thought of putting her in when he saw her, owning a gun was better than nothing.
“You’ll need to keep it at the house.”