Page 32 of Gorgeous

“Will the kickback hurt?”

Mason makes an amused sound low in his throat before answering. “We’re just using a twenty gauge.”

Breck casts a worried look at me and I explain. “The smaller the gauge, the less of a kick it has.” I walk over and pick one up, running my hand over the barrel. “You’ll be fine.”

Breck takes a deep breath and bobs her head up and down like she’s trying to will the confidence into herself. “Yeah. I’m ‘bout to smoke y’all bitches.”

I choke on a laugh when the guys all join in a cacophony of laughter.

“Come on, Annie Oakley, let’s see what you got.” I tug Breck by the arm to the designated spot and Mason mans the skeet shooter, ready for B’s command. Hayes passes me the cocked and loaded gun, and I place it into Breck’s shaking hands. “You’re okay,” I soothe, coming up behind her, my fantasy coming true as I place my hands on top of hers. “Breathe with me,” I tell her, my voice deep and raspy as I struggle to hear it over the intense pounding of my pulse.

In and out, Breck breathes in time with me until her hands have stopped shaking. “We’ll do this first one together, okay?” She whimpers out a noncommittal noise and I take that as an answer. “When you’re ready, yellpull.”

We breathe another few breaths together and then she yells into the open pasture, “Pull!”

The machine raps out a springing type sound and my eyes track the discs’ movement in the sky. I pull on Breck’s arms and she follows my movement fluidly. My index finger presses harder on hers. “Squeeze,” I whisper into her ear, pressing down on her finger. She does, and a loud pop sounds right before the clay disc explodes.

“I did it!” she shouts, handing me the gun so she can jump up and down. I hand it over to a grinning Hayes as we both watch her silly victory dab. “I really did it,” she cries out, her voice growing louder right before she rushes me, jumping up for a hug. I catch her in midair, the momentum making me take a step back. She’s excited, her uneven breaths blowing the tiny hairs along the back of my neck.

“I did it,” she mumbles, squeezing my shoulders in a hold I’m sure she considers tight.

“You did,” I repeat, basking in the sweet smell of honey from her hair. Breck’s body molds to mine, and fuck if I want to put her down.

The old Cade wouldn’t have.

The old Cade would take her back to one of the empty rooms and celebrate the victory with her.

Instead, the new Cade sets her down on her feet and asks, “Can I offer you a ride home?”

Dear Dork,

You cannot imagine the smell of five guys who have not showered in a week. Holy shit. We call it the FAN smell. Feet, Ass, and Nuts. I think they should add armpits, too. The smell of Lewis’ should come with its own biohazard warning. #youthoughtmygymclotheswerebad #jesshasnttextedme #doesshehaveaboyfriend?

Your big bro.

After a thorough scouring of the pantry, I’ve decided that there just isn’t enough food in here to make another meal. It’s been three dayssince Anniston and Theo left on their honeymoon and I didn’t think to ask Anniston about how I was supposed to get groceries. It’s not like I do this all the time—being a personal chef to five Marines—to have some sort of procedure down pat. So as much as it pains me to do so, I’m going to have to askhim.

I frown a little as I pass by Tim who is adjusting something on the screen door. “Do you know where Cade is?” I ask him hesitantly. Tim doesn’t turn from the door.

And then it occurs to me. I’m such a dumbass.

Tim doesn’t hear well, and for the most part, only reads lips. But he speaks, albeit brokenly, which confuses me on how long his hearing loss has been an issue. Getting closer, I place a hand on his shoulder and grab his attention. He turns from his work on the hinge and graces me with a brilliant, toothy smile. With slow enunciation I ask again, “Do you know where Cade is?”

Tim points to the room next to the stairs. Cade’s office.

“Oh.” I eye the door like some kind of serial killer waits behind it. Damn it. Why couldn’t he have been in the gym or something?

Tim chuckles and stands. He turns me around to face the door and then he whispers ever so lightly in my ear, “You’ll be fine.”

I’m already shaking my head when he pushes me toward the door and knocks twice for me. “I wasn’t ready!” I whisper, but he’s already heading back to his post.

So much for his support.

“I’m busy,” comes the response to the knock.

Great. Cade’s in a fantastic mood. This should go over beautifully.

“I’m sorry. I just have one question,” I say to the still closed door. Something crashes in his office and I take a step back just in case I need a head start to run.

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