Calculated Risk (Blackbridge Security 5)

She nods. “Does that make me a wuss?”

“Not in the least. It’s a deadly weapon. It’s good that you respect it as such, but I don’t want you to be afraid of it either. Turn around and pick it back up.”

She does, and her hands are either trembling more now or the video didn’t capture the full shake earlier.

“Hold on,” I tell her, placing my hand on top of her forearms, so she lowers the gun. “Look at me.”

I slide my hand down to hers and take the other one lightly in mine as well.

“Relax.” I move her hands making her arms shake. “Take a deep breath. It’s like jumping off a cliff into the lake for the first time. It’s perfectly normal to be a little nervous.”

“I’ve never jumped off a cliff,” she says, making me grin.

Of course she hasn’t.

“Now let’s try again. Don’t lock your knees, but don’t slouch. Pick it up. No, like this.” Without thought, I step in behind her and wrap my arms around hers, readjusting her hands on the grip. “Does that feel better?”

When she nods her head, the scent of her hair invades my nose, and like a fool, I dip a little lower to get a better whiff, which nearly has me on my damn knees.

With our size difference, I’m not even touching her except where my arms come over hers.

“Tighten up here,” I tell her as I trail my fingers up her arms to her elbows. Did she have goosebumps before I touched her? “Perfect.”

I take a step back.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without asking first.”

When she turns her head to look at me, the gun comes along for the ride.

“Down range,” I snap, startling her.

The gun fires and thank God the bullet goes wide.

She screeches as she drops the gun on the table at her waist. She stares down at the thing like it just insulted her.

“That’s twice now that’s happened. I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Twice? That happened the first time you shot in here alone?”

She’s shaking, and although I want to lift her chin so I can see her eyes, I keep my distance. She’s here to learn how to shoot, not be railroaded by a man who has a tendency to take over and do things himself because it’s faster and easier.

“I went to wipe sweat off my face.”

“With your right hand?” My eyes widen, knowing she’s right-handed. “You could’ve—”

“With my shoulder.” She mimics the motion, lifting her shoulder to the damp side of her face.

“And it went off because your finger was on the trigger just like now. What did I say in class?”

“Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot, and I was ready, then I felt the sweat.”

“Then you take your finger off the trigger.”

“Obviously, I will from now on.”

“Except when someone talks to you? Then it’s okay to swing a gun in their direction?”

She narrows her eyes at me, and I know I’m seconds away from getting a good dose of her feisty attitude, but at least she isn’t near tears like she was a minute ago.

“Finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. If you get distracted, finger off the trigger. Always finger—”

“Off the trigger. Yeah, I got it.”

“Good, now turn around and pick it back up.”

“I think I’m done.”

“You’ve only shot twice and neither of those times were on purpose. Let’s go. Turn around.”

Her eyes dart to mine, holding me captive for a long moment before she turns back to face the target ten feet down the range.

“Remember what I said. Put your thumbs like—may I touch you?”

“Please.” She shakes her head. “I mean, yes. That’s fine.”

I’m smiling like a damned fool when I step up behind her for the second time. I have to make sure that I keep my hips back a little further because her verbal slipup is causing my own physical reaction, and I don’t think she’d appreciate knowing it if I pressed it against her.

“That can’t be comfortable for you,” she says as she looks over her shoulder at me.

God, all I’d have to do is brush her hair a few inches to the side, and I’d have access to her neck. I just know the skin there would be soft, scented with her sweet body wash and sweat. I clear my throat as she turns her face back toward the target.

“It’s fine.” Perfect, actually. “You ready?”

She shakes her head but reaches for the gun anyway.

“Arms to here,” I tell her, lifting them a few inches higher. “Good, now move your thumb. Perfect.”

Her hands still have a slight tremble in them, but at least the weapon is pointed down range.

“Take a few calming breaths, but then hold it right before you squeeze the trigger. Fire when you’re ready.”