Page 79 of Wildest Dreams

And waiting is something that I’m pretty fucking amazing at.

I swipe my tongue over my lower lip, squinting at the target across the range. Then I glance back down at Aisling’s beautiful face.

“It’s loud,” I warn her. “Louder than you’d maybe expect. We’ll have to put on those ear protectors.”

She shrugs her shoulders, blushing a little. “Sometimes I don’t mind loud.”

I clear my throat, quickly blinking away from her.

Yeah, I remember her not minding getting loud.

“Okay,” I say hoarsely, lifting up one of my biceps so that she can slip behind me as I reposition myself to scope out the shot. We both slip on the headgear, and Aisling strokes at her ear covers. I watch her protectively over one of my shoulders and tip my chin, gesturing for her to stand a little further back.

“When I pull the trigger the stock’s gonna ram against my shoulder and I don’t want to knock you if my position budges.”

Her hands move to the back of my shirt as she stares up at me but neither of us mention it. After a moment of hesitation she finally takes a few small steps backwards, but I’ve got control of the weapon so I nod, satisfied, and turn my full attention back to the target at the bottom of the range.

I lay my cheek against the stock and slow down my breathing, waiting for my heartbeat to drop as I keep my eye on the scope. Aisling doesn’t say anything as she watches me hold my position, and I’m grateful for it because I wouldn’t be able to say anything back to her. Every tiny vibration in my body is going to affect the bullet so I stay still and silent, my focus trained on the plus sign up ahead.

I slowly tighten the trigger, then hold still, waiting through one heartbeat, then two, then three.

In the next second I shoot the shot, grunting as the stock jumps back against my shoulder. The blast is so instant that for a few seconds nothing can be made out, but I wait it out, keeping my breathing even.

When the vibrations settle I check my shot through the scope.

Barely a centimetre to the left of the plus sign, and slightly above, the smoothness of the bullet making the shot perfectly clean.

A dimple pops in my cheek, a secret smile trying to break free, but I stay still and refocus.

I shoot again. This time I’m a centimetre to the right of the target and slightly above, and I wait for the sound of the shot to quiet down before I pull the trigger for one final time.

Dead centre.

I lower the heavy rifle as I take in my handiwork, smirking quietly to myself as I take stock of what I just did.

Satisfied, I set the rifle down, stretch out my back, and turn around to face Aisling.

Her head is tilted to one side as she blinks at the target sheet.

Maybe it’s for the best if she actually doesn’t look at that too closely.

I clear my throat and move around her, positioning my body at her back so that I can undo the bullet proof vest.

“There,” I rumble, easing the padding gently down her arms and then slinging it back over the post that I got it from. I remove our ear defenders, wrap my palm around her wrist, and begin dragging her away from our shooting booth.

“Did you–?” she sputters, blinking rapidly between the target board and then back to me.

I clear my throat, not saying anything.

“Did you just–?”

“No.”

“But I can see–”

I shove my free hand through my hair and glance over at her.

“Tanner, did you” – she throws a disbelieving look back over to the target, the hand that I’m not hauling wrapped tight around my forearm – “did you just shoot the bullets… to make the shape of a heart?”

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