Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) (27 page)

“Ready to kick some ass?”
Matthew asked.

Allie
nodded and stuck her gun into her shoulder, just the way he’d showed her.

“You really are adorable.” He leaned in to drop a kiss on her lips before a loud buzzer
signaled the beginning of the game.

Matthew
began a silent creep through the trees. The teens had already left, tearing off like bats out of hell, whooping and firing at anything that moved, while Rambo Jr. was probably setting up traps somewhere.

Allie
ran a fine line between the whooping boys and an attempt at stealth as she followed Matthew. Okay, so that was being nice. In reality, she thundered through the underbrush like a bull in a china shop, crashing through tree branches and bushes that tore at her clothing no matter where she moved. The sunlight dappled down on them from straight overhead, stretching their shadows out at all angles while painting the ground with strokes of gold.

Matthew
was something to behold, totally in his element. Allie tried to mimic him, walking in trenches and over the shadowed sides of rocks and trees, but the vegetative carnage she left behind in comparison to Matthew was . . . well, pathetic. Good thing it didn’t matter if they were followed. She’d get an F if there was a leave-no-trace test.

When they reached the edge of the tree line,
Matthew looked back at her and raised a finger to his lips. He dropped down on his belly and put his gun up. Allie tip-toed to him and looked at the ground. It was still muddy from the rain of a few days ago.

Ewe
.

She kicked some leaves
over the mud so she wouldn’t get her shirt dirty. Matthew was watching her and when their eyes met, he shook his head in bemusement.  She shrugged her shoulders—
what if there was animal poo on the ground?—
and got down next to him.

After a few minutes of quiet watching, ADD began to kick in and she started to tap her feet on the ground.
Matthew raised his hand and pointed to a bush a hundred feet or so away. The telltale red of Rambo Jr.’s bandana peeked above the tall grasses.

There was a sudden
pop! pop! pop!
of gunfire.

“
Damn it!” Rambo Jr. shouted. He hefted his girth up to his feet, totally pissed off, now covered in yellow and blue splatters, and glared out at the landscape.

Allie
had to cup both hands over her mouth to stifle her giggling as she watched him toss his gun on the ground.

“Where are you, you little
bastards!” A hambone fist shook in the air. There was a resounding
ploomph
! of someone’s paintball gun and Rambo Jr. collapsed, holding the remains of his blue-painted crown jewels.

Allie
rolled onto her side, shaking with silent laughter as Rambo Jr. crawled off toward the dead zone to nurse his man junk.

Matthew
was all smiles as he looked down the sights of his paintball gun—both eyes open—and paused. He signaled to Allie, pointing to the edge of a large sage bush. Allie’s eyes widened when after a few seconds of impotent staring she caught the flutter of movement.

Matthew
pulled the trigger.

Ploompft
!

“Shit!” someone cursed. A Beta teamer stood, his shoulder splattered bright orange.

Matthew turned back to Allie and grinned. “Put your gun up, baby. It’s your turn,” he whispered.

She squinted through the sites, trying to keep both of them level with each other. It was hard when she was quivering with anticipation.

He tapped her on the shoulder and then pointed to a tree before scooting closer to her. “You see him?”

Allie
squinched her eyes up in concentration. There was movement, and the vague shape of a body on the other side. It was hard to make it out because of the clothes he was wearing, but he was definitely there. “Yeah!” she whispered back, eyes wide.

“Line your sites up right over the bush there.” He helped her readjust the gun so she was holding it better. “I’ll spook him out for you and then you hit him, okay? He’ll go left, over that bush where you’re aiming. Keep looking right there.”

Allie was practically vibrating as she focused over the top of the bush—
This was so cool!

“Ready?”

She nodded, careful not to bump her gun.

Matthew
squeezed off a few rounds, dotting orange splatters over the ground in a trail that led up to the sage. The guy who was hiding out panicked, and leapt up right where Matthew said he would.

Allie
squeezed back on the trigger. . .

And missed.

“
Shit
!” This was a lot harder than it looked.

She shot five more times and finally nailed him between the shoulder blades. Good thing he was a slow runner. When the ball hit him he jumped
and his momentum sent him head over feet until he crashed to his hands and knees. When he stood up and looked around, Allie tried to flatten herself as much as possible while his eyes ran right over where they were hiding. Finally, shoulders slumping as he kicked the ground, he stalked off toward the dead zone.

Matthew
’s deep chuckle made Allie soar with pride. “Good job, baby.” He rolled over to kiss the side of her neck and then jumped to his feet. “That was the last one for now.” He tugged her up and gave her a comrade’s pat on the ass. Like she’d just nailed a free throw or something.

“Now we
gotta be fast.” As he checked his gun Allie had to laugh. When they were picking out guns to play with, he had gone off to Allie all about the specific type of paintball gun needed in order to get the
job
done. He’d insisted on a model called a 416 H and something or the other, airsoft . . . ? He’d totally lost her, and she’d settled for glazed over eyes and a polite smile until he’d finally gotten the ones he wanted.

Now, he pulled
the
whatever
gun up into position. Allie quickly did the same. He pointed to the reconstructed, plywood village. Could have been a back drop to some kind of Salt-n-Pepa or Vanilla Ice music video from the early 90’s. All the walls were spackled in fluorescent pinks, yellows, blues, and oranges—like Rainbow Bright had gone gangsta in Baghdad.

“I’ll take point. Clear the areas. You got my back?”

Feeling cocky as hell after her first confirmed “kill”, her lips could hardly contain the cheesy grin that stretched over her face. She would have twirled her gun around like Wild Bill Hickok if she thought she could keep from shooting herself in the face. “Got it.”

The corners of his mouth tipped up. “Good.”

They ran over the open field—the scariest part so far, because they were wide out in the open. Allie did her best to stay upright and keep from tripping over any roots or hidden rocks. By the time they got to the side of one of the houses her heart was pounding against her ribcage. All the adrenaline surging through her system.
What a rush!

Heading for the center of the village, they kept to the shadows, crept along walls, then dashed to the next building.
Matthew would go first, clear each one, and then signal for Allie, who trailed behind and did her best to look like she belonged.

He nailed two more guys who’
d been set up to snipe from the top of a couple of stacked up hay bales. Poor guys looked so sad as they trudged off to the dead zone; almost made Allie not want to laugh out loud.

When
Matthew and she got past a few more houses Allie looked up and saw the blue game flag hanging inside one of the open doorways.

They found it!

Matthew checked out the area for any Betas and then they made their last sprint into the building. As Matthew cleared the room Allie realized the flag was dangling off a pole. You had to shoot the latch that held it in order for the thing to fall free.

Eye on the prize,
Allie stepped into the room—and tripped over a gouge in the floor. She tumbled to the ground, her gun going with her. On reflex, she tried to grab the thing and her finger curled around the trigger.

Matthew
jumped and the back of his perfect, perfect ass was suddenly coated in hot-pink paint.

He turned toward her, mouth wide.

Allie looked up at him from the floor. “Oops.”

Stop
smiling.

Allie
tried
again
to pull her lips down. Useless. They just kept quivering right back up into that stupid, sappy grin she’d been sporting since she’d won the paintball game.

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, hoping a little pain could take the edge off the giggles as she turned sideways in the Escalade to face
Matthew.

“Did you get a chance to see my award yet?” Her voice shook around her words. A red, satin ribbon, reading Master Chief in gold lettering, dangled from her fingertips.

Matthew looked at her, mossy eyes flashing, and his mouth compressed into a tight little smile. “Yeah. I did”—the corner of his lips curled up a bit more—“a few times.”

“It says I’m a winner,” she added with a giggle.

“You’re somethin’, alright.” His eyes dropped to the front of her shirt.

Allie
, in a hurry to change out of her filthy, mud-streaked clothes and bouncing with excitement at having won the game, had inadvertently snapped off two of her buttons. So, the staring wasn’t unexpected. In fact, his eyes had stayed glued to her cleavage since she’d walked out of the ladies bathroom. But, whatever. Maybe showing off a little somethin’, somethin’ would work as a peace offering for accidently nailing him in the butt before he could claim
Master Chief
status for himself.

Hussy that she was, she leaned forward, showing off enough boob action that the middle of her bra peeked out. Lashes batting, she added, “I kicked ass.”

“Uh . . . huh.”

“Maybe, I could give you some lessons.”

At that, Matthew turned back to the road, snorted. “What? You gonna show me how to panic?” He shook his head. “I had no idea you could turn tail and run so fast.”

Whatever
.

She wasn’t stupid.

And after her little mishap—nailing him in the ass with hot pink paint—she wasn’t about to stick around. She’d unloaded about twenty balls on the flag to drop it from its holder, scrambled over to it, and then hauled her trash back toward home base before Matthew could catch up and give her a merc-worthy beat down.

“Pure awesomeness.”
She smirked. Yeah, she was laying it on a little thick. Stuck up SEAL had it coming. And to lose to a
girl
!

Heh
, heh.

Matthew
matched her grin, and for a moment she forgot whatever she’d been saying.

Geeze,
she loved it when he did that. His smile was just a little lopsided and cradled the slightest hint of dimples in both sides of his cheeks.

Freaking, sexy, adorable man.

“How’s your butt, by the way?” Her brows arched.

His eyes turned back to hers and took on a smoky hue.
“Alright.” His hand snaked down the front of her shirt and a thumb hooked under the clasp of her bra. “Though, if you wanted to kiss it better, I’d be cool with that.” His index finger sent warm currents over the crest of her breast, speeding her pulse. She forgot to breathe for a second and had to remind herself that she’d probably pass out if she didn’t suck down some air soon.

“So. . . .” she tried to clear her
fuzzy, nymphomaniac thoughts.
For heaven’s sake, though! The man was a magician with his hands.
She had to distract him. Otherwise, she was about to launch herself across the console and ride him all the way home. “What were you saying to those kids on our team?”

He blinked, probably trying to catch up with
Allie’s change in direction, and his hand slipped free—
damn it
; she wasn’t one-hundred percent happy about that—as he laughed. “They wanted to know what I did for a living.”

Oh
. “What did you say?” The whole
I’d-tell-you-but-I’d-have-to-kill-you
shtick ran through her mind.

“I told them I was a professional fortune cookie writer.” He grinned again. “Don’t think they bought it.”

Allie choked on a bubble of laughter. “Oh. My. Hell. No wonder they were looking at you so weird.”

He took an exit off the freeway and pulled into a KFC/Taco Bell drive through.

“Hungry?” she asked, unnecessarily.

His hand rubbed over the
back of his reddening neck. “Thought we’d get some chow and head over to this place me and my bro used to go to all the time.”

“Like, a picnic?” Her sweet, white knight was back, sitting high and proud on his steed.