The Hit (Team Zulu 1)

She rolled her lips together and nodded, appearing a little more convinced this time.

“Look, I can promise you the rifle won’t leave the rack unless it’s needed, but you can still stay home if you’ve changed your mind. I understand if you’re not comfortable heading out with me.”

“No, it’s fine.” She exhaled a breath. “I want to come along. I guess I freaked out when I saw the gun. They make me nervous. I didn’t grow up around them.”

“What about the shotgun you tried to blow me apart with?”

Cameron scrunched her nose. “It was Dad’s. I only pulled it out of the closet that afternoon. I’d never used it before. Don’t think Dad had either.”

“Remind me to teach you how to use a firearm before you leave here. And how to maintain them so they don’t misfire.” I gave her a pointed look.

Her brow furrowed. “You’d do that for me?”

“Sure. I want you to be able to protect yourself.”

She blinked a few times, and I thought perhaps some color had returned to her face. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

“Let’s go then.” I put on my cap, hopped on the bike and started it up. I patted the seat behind me. “You need any help?”

She shook her head before climbing on a little awkwardly.

“Shouldn’t we be wearing helmets? How fast will we be going?” She raised her voice so I could hear her over the rumble of the engine.

“Only slow with the trailer attached. But hold on.”

I pulled Cameron’s arms around my waist. Shit, I wasn’t thinking. She could have used the rear rack for support. Still, she held on tighter than I expected. No complaints from me.

“First time on a bike?” I asked.

“Yeah. Is it that obvious you’ve got a virgin on the back?”

I knew what she meant, but I glanced over my shoulder and lifted a brow.

Her eyes flared and jaw gaped. “No, not like that. I meant an ATV virgin. As in, never been on a bike before.”

I couldn’t hold back my grin when she shielded her eyes with one hand and said, “Oh my God. Can we get going, please?”

We rode to a spot where a few trees had fallen last winter. During the ride, Cameron’s grip relaxed a little, but she never let go. Ranger ran along behind us, keeping pace with ease.

I hopped off the bike first and was a little shocked when she allowed me to give her a hand to get down, even though her ankle seemed better than yesterday.

She sat at the base of a nearby tree and released her hair, which had mostly escaped its bun. Messed-up waves and flushed skin suited her.

“So, you’re a hitman and a hillbilly?” she said, splitting a blade of grass.

I almost tripped when I saw humor in her eyes. Perhaps the ride out here and the freedom of the outdoors had relaxed her.

Flashing her a wry smile, I unloaded the chainsaw. “Always thought I was more of a mountain man. And you wanna be careful who you go calling hillbilly around these parts. The locals don’t take too kindly to it.”

I inspected a fallen tree, deciding the red oak would be perfect for my needs since it had few knots and was dry.

“Did you grow up here?” Cameron asked. “You seem right at home in the wilderness.”

“I’ve lived in a lot of places. Dad was in the Army, so we moved a lot. But when I was a boy, every weekend he could, he’d take me hunting or fishing. Think it was the only time my old man was happy.”

“So, you two are close?”

I shot her a sideways glance. Why all the personal questions? I guessed if this was what it took to make her more comfortable with me, then I’d answer them as best I could.