Page 29 of The Sniper

Her breath hitched, and she looked down at the floor, braid slipping over her shoulder. Then, so quiet I almost missed it, she whispered, “You might be right.”

I froze, caught off guard. Didn’t expect that—not from her, not with that preacher’s-daughter vibe she carried like a shield. But there it was, a crack in the armor, and it lit something in me I didn’t know was there. Respect, sure, but more—something hungry, something that wanted to pull her closer and see how deep that crack went.

“Careful,” I said, voice low, stepping in until I couldsmell that lavender on her again. “That’s a dangerous thing to say around a guy like me.”

She looked up, blue eyes locking on mine, and didn’t back away. “Maybe I meant it.”

I laughed—soft, rough, couldn’t help it. “You’re something else, Hallie Mae.”

She didn’t smile, but her lips parted, just a little, like she was tasting the words. “So are you, Noah Dane.”

The air went thick, heavy with that push-pull I couldn’t shake. I wanted to kiss her again—right there, with the fan clanking and the crew hammering outside—but I didn’t. Not yet. She’d bolt, or I’d push too hard, and I wasn’t ready to lose whatever this was. Not when it felt like the first real thing I’d touched in years.

The crew kept at it—windows sealed, gate bolted, living room patched up like nothing had ever happened. I stayed on the porch, but my eyes kept drifting to her. She moved through the house, checking on people, that quiet strength of hers pulling me in like a tide I didn’t fight. What was it? The way she cared? The way she didn’t flinch—not really, not even from me? I’d killed for less than what she’d stood up to, and here she was, barefoot and steady, like the world couldn’t shake her.

I didn’t get it. Didn’t get her. A kindergarten teacher, for fuck’s sake—construction paper crosses and Bible verses, like she’d said. But she wasn’t soft, not where it counted. She’d faced down a gun, vouched for a killer, and now she was letting me stick around, even when she knew what I was.

The old-timers wrapped up by late afternoon, tools clattering back into the truck, sweat staining their shirts. I handed over the cash—double, like I’d promised—and they tipped their caps, muttering thanks before rumbling away.

Hallie Mae stepped onto the porch as they left, arms crossed again, watching me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.

“Done?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. “Good as new.”

She nodded, slow, then looked out at the courtyard. The bloodstain was still there—nobody’d touched it, and I hadn’t pushed. Wasn’t my call.

“Thanks,” she said, voice quiet but firm. “For all of it.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said, shrugging. “Owed you.”

She shook her head, just a little. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.” I stepped closer, voice dropping. “And I’m not done.”

Her eyes flicked up, wide and bright, and I saw it again—that curiosity, that spark. She didn’t say anything, just stood there, and I let the silence hang. Didn’t care if it stretched forever. Didn’t care about the heat, the ache in my bones, the ghosts that usually dogged me.

All I cared about was her—standing there, real as hell, pulling me in like a shot I couldn’t miss. And for once, I wasn’t cocky about it. Just hooked.

Before I could grab the words from slipping out of my mouth, I said, “Have plans for dinner?”

9

HALLIE MAE

Iblinked at him.

“Dinner?”

The word came out slower than I meant it to, like my brain hadn’t caught up with my mouth yet. I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say after everything—after fixing the damage, feeding the women, standing there with a look that made my knees unsteady—but it wasn’t that.

He tilted his head, eyes playful beneath the weight of everything we weren’t saying. “Unless you’re gonna tell me you’ve already got a hot date tonight.”

I crossed my arms, trying not to smile. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

“Not sure. Just hopeful.”

I shook my head, more to myself than him. “I don’t know, Noah … There’s still a lot to do here. We’ve got organizing, inventory, checking in on the moms?—”

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