Page 31 of Gorgeous

My jelly girl.

The brunette that annoys me and intrigues me.

The first woman in five years to get a reaction out of my dick.

“Whad’ya say, honey? Want the best sharp shooter in the southeast to teach you how to beat the major in skeet shooting?”

I make a face when he winks over her head while she blabbers about not being sure if she wants to or not.

I’m not going to stand in his way if he really wants to teach her. Hayes’ eagerness to pick up a shotgun is nothing short of a miracle. Eighteen months ago, he couldn’t look at a gun without having an anxiety attack. It wasn’t until he had to fire a shot into Lou, to save Anniston, that he overcame most of his issues. He still doesn’t practice sniping, as was his profession in the military, but he will shoot skeets with us and practice with targets occasionally.

Anniston and I consider anything gun related a win.

“We need to get moving. It will only get hotter,” I say, rethinking this whole idea when I see that Breck’s romper is already sticking to her breasts. Her neck is damp and the hair at her ears is starting to curl. “Breck, get in the cab with Tim. Vic can ride in the back.”

Breck glares at me, her chin tipped down and her smile bearing way too much confidence. “I’m good here, thanks.”

Hayes wastes notime jumping in. “I’ll take care of her, Major. Come on, beautiful. You can sit in my lap so I can keep my arms around you.” The walking erection flops down in the bed and pats his lap for a grinning Breck. “Safety first, B. Ain’t that right, Major?”

He wants me to beat the fuck out of him.

He’s literally daring me to punch the cocky smirk right off his face.

I play it cool, tamping down the urge to snatch him out of my truck and take a cheap shot at his pretty-boy face. “Right. Safety first. Let’s go.” I tap the edge of the truck and get in, feeling petty when I see Hayes’ smile drop. Another confirmation he’s not into Breck and only doing these things to piss me off.

After putting the truck in gear, I turn up the country song about a body like a back road, reminding me of Breck’s delightful curves.

“Ooh! Turn it up!” she yells into the open back window.

“Sit down,” I scold her when she stands up against the back glass, her hips already moving to the music.

“I promise, I’ll hang on,” she screams over the wind. Vic tosses me an amused grin as he watches Breck dance in the bed of my pickup. I slow down, careful not to jostle her since she’s stubborn as fuck, and find my eyes darting to the review mirror more than they should.

Her hands drum on the hood as the chorus kicks up and I have to fight the urge to slam on the brakes just to take it all in. Her rhythmic hips sway behind the glass, matching the melody of the song that seems to have been written just for her.

But I don’t stop.

I don’t take it all in.

Instead, I tap the brakes and bark out, “Keep your hands on the hood!”

She laughs, unfazed. “Yes, sir,” she says, but she doesn’t put her hands down. She reaches up even farther, pissing me off more when the shorts of her romper lift up higher, exposing a small birthmark on her inner thigh. Tim masks a laugh and Vic looks out his window to hide his own smile.

I sigh. “The fucking women in this house…”

Vic chuckles and raps his knuckles against the door. “It’s best if you realize it now.”

“Realize what?”

Vic stares longingly out at the hills as the new barracks we’re building come into view. “That you’re already done for.”

“I don’t understand,” I tell him. Really. He might as well be speaking Mandarin right now.

Vic blows out a breath and smiles. “You’ll know soon enough.”

I slow to a stop and Hayes bails out the side, helping Breck down. Vic hops out with Tim right behind him and I don’t have time to ask him exactly what he meant about knowing soon enough. Sounds like voodoo to me.

Everyone has already gone around to the back of the barracks and set up by the time I arrive. Hayes is going through the basics of gun safety with B. “This is the safety here.” He demonstrates how to flip it off and on and then explains how to track the skeet and brace the shotgun against your shoulder. Breck nods and worries a piece of hair between her fingers.

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