KissedByASEAL (9 page)

“I was aiming for his head.” She realized she was probably shouting and slipped off the big earmuffs he’d given her.

Chris pulled out his earplugs too. “Ah. Okay. Don’t do that. Aim for the torso. It’s the widest area. You have less chance of missing. That’s what they taught us in sniper school, so that’s what I always did.”

Sniper school
.

Once in a while, the guys would say something and remind her they’d been trained to kill.

It was easy to forget, seeing them with their feet up on the coffee table, drinking a beer and yelling at the television during a game. But there were times, such as now, when one sentence gave her a peek through the crack in the door that led to that other half of their lives. The part they kept hidden from friends and family. The life where it was kill or be killed.

Everything about this trip showed her a different side of Chris. He could be both serious and organized. She saw that from his
range bag
, as he’d called it, packed with all the necessities. Ammo, eye and ear protection for her and him, extra targets, even baseball hats for both of them, because apparently the hot brass flew around and could hit her in the face. Who knew?

Then there was the way Chris walked in to the shooting range like he owned the place, and the fact the range safety officer knew him by name.

It all showed her aspects of him she’d never seen before.

What was it about men and guns? Even Rick had acted like a different person when it came to this trip to the range. He made her change her clothes this morning before Chris arrived to pick her up because, according to her brother, she wasn’t wearing
proper range attire
.

All right, she did have to agree with him that she didn’t want to experience hot brass flying into the scoop neck of the shirt she’d had on, but usually he didn’t give a crap what she wore.

“Try again. This time aim for the center of the chest.” Chris shoved his earplugs back into place and she realized the talking was over as the door into his other life slammed closed.

Darci nodded, though she couldn’t shake the knowledge that though she might be shooting paper targets shaped like men, Chris had shot actual men.

Squeezing the trigger seemed just a bit harder for her after that.

CHAPTER 8

 
“Do you want to come in? I have a few questions about Thursday.” Darci glanced at him as he shifted the truck into Park in her driveway and let the engine idle.
 

It was probably safe to go in. It was only a little past noon and the sun shone brightly enough Chris wouldn’t be tempted to confuse this daytime field trip to the range with a real date.

Rick’s truck was parked in the driveway in front of him, so he knew they wouldn’t be alone.

“A’ight.” He turned the key in the ignition and cut the engine.

He stood behind Darci as she slid her key into the lock and pushed open the door of her house.

Rick glanced up from where he stood in the kitchen. “Hey, that was quick. Couldn’t stand her for any longer?”

Chris shook his head at Rick’s teasing. “She did real good.”

Darci spun to face Chris. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Rick let out a snort. “He’s just being nice. It’s that damn southern politeness of his.”

And now he was in the middle of a sibling spat. He was more than glad he had a brother and not a sister, if this was what it would be like. Brody might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there wasn’t this constant bickering bullshit he saw between Rick and Darci.

“It’s not me being polite. She’s handled herself well. She’s a good shot.”

“Yeah?” Rick sounded shocked.

Darci planted her hands on her hips and drew in a breath big enough Chris knew they were in for quite a rant.

Time for Chris to intervene. “Darci.”

“Hm?” She barely glanced at Chris when he said her name.

“One final gun range tip—you should go right now and wash your face and hands real good. Taking a shower would be even better. Throw those clothes you got on right in the laundry too. You can’t see it but there’s gun powder and other nasty shit all over you.” When she didn’t make a move, he added. “Some guys swear it makes them break out real bad if they don’t wash it right off. You being so fair-skinned and all . . .”

That did it. She pursed her lips together and finally exhaled, he hoped letting all her annoyance with her brother out with that one breath. “Okay. But don’t leave yet. I need to ask you some things.”

“I’m not about to go anywhere.”

When she looked convinced he spoke the truth, she turned for her bedroom. She disappeared inside and closed the door behind her.

“I’m about to throw some burgers on the grill. Wanna stay for lunch?” Rick asked.

The truth was Chris was starving, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask Darci if she wanted to grab something to eat. It had seemed too much like asking her out on a date, and he wasn’t going to confuse things anymore than they already were.

“Sounds good. I’m so hungry I’m farting dust.”

Rick laughed. “Another classic Chris-ism. One day I’m going to write all the shit you say down in a book.”

“Go ahead. You can probably sell it for about half of what the paper it’s written on is worth.” Chris moved to the kitchen sink and followed his own advice by washing his hands. He splashed water on his face too, scrubbing off any unseen residue from the range.

“So how’d she really do?” Rick asked.

Grabbing a paper towel off the roll hanging beneath the cabinet to dry off with, Chris glanced at Rick, busy taking out two more meat patties from the package on the island.
 

“She did good, Rick. I don’t know why you wouldn’t take her with you when she asked.” Chris finished drying his face and wadded up the used paper towel.

“I know my sister. She wouldn’t have taken it seriously.”

“All I know is, she took it plenty seriously while she was with me.” Chris tossed the wad of paper into the trashcan.

Rick leveled a glare at Chris. “Because you’re not her brother.”

Chris couldn’t argue the point. Rick was correct. There were no sibling-like feelings happening between him and Darci. Far from it.

“I’ve got cheese and onions to go on these. Oh, man. I think we have a pound of bacon in the meat drawer in the fridge. Should I fry up some?”

As Rick glanced up, his eyes bright with excitement over the prospect of a bacon cheeseburger, Chris tried not to picture Darci sudsy beneath the hot spray of water in the shower.

Friends shouldn’t picture friends’ sisters naked. Christ, he was one shitty friend and teammate. But what Rick didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him. Chris pushed all naughty thoughts of Darci out of his mind.

“Sounds good. Let me help you.”

“Grab me that bacon and one of those beers out of the fridge and that’ll be help enough. Get a beer for yourself too.”

That was the last thing Chris needed, alcohol-induced imaginings about Darci. Those always seemed to be more X-rated than his sober thoughts. He reached in and found the bacon. He tossed the package onto the counter and went back for a bottle of water for himself along with the beer for Rick.

“Thanks, but I’m good with this for now.” Chris set the beer on the island for Rick and cracked open the lid of his water.

 
“All right. Suit yourself.” Rick reached into the cabinet below the island and emerged with a frying pan. “I’m gonna throw these on the grill outside then start the bacon. Be right back.”

Chris nodded. Distractions aside, it looked like he was in for a nice lunch.

Soon Rick was back, manning the frying pan.

The smell of bacon filled the air and all was right with the world—until Darci’s bedroom door opened.

At the first sight of her, Chris swallowed hard, contemplating getting that beer after all.

Her hair was still damp from the shower. She was in a T-shirt cut low enough he could see the creamy swell of the tops of her breasts above the neckline. And she was wearing the same tight pants that she had on the night before.

These damn yoga pants that women had taken to wearing nowadays left nothing to the imagination, and seeing her in them was the last thing he needed.

His mouth had already been watering from the bacon. Now he was salivating for an entirely different reason. He drew in a swallow of cold water and hoped it would extinguish the flame burning inside him.

“I sincerely hope you’re making some for me.” Darci sent a glare in Rick’s direction.

“Of course, I am. Don’t be stupid.” Rick moved from the cutting board, to the stove and closer to Chris. While flipping the bacon in the pan, he mumbled, “I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t.”

Chris hid his smile behind his bottle of water. Yup, after today he was very grateful for having Brody as a brother.

Darci perched on the barstool, which was unfortunately placed at the end of the island and afforded Chris the perfect view of her heart-shaped ass outlined in those infernal pants.

“So.” Chris coughed to clear the huskiness he’d heard in his voice. “What questions did you have about the op—I mean job.”

“Tough habit to break, huh?” Rick smiled at Chris’s slip back into the lingo he’d used for so many years in the teams.
 

Chris snorted in agreement. “No kidding.”
 

Darci ignored their banter and asked, “First of all, what time are we leaving Thursday?”

“I have to confirm with Jon what time the guy expects us down there, and how far the airport is from the resort, then I’ll file a flight plan, so I’ll get back to you on the time.”

“Okay. Next, what do I need to pack?”

That was a harder question to answer. He was a man. What the hell did he know? “I guess pack what you’d wear if you were really attending a weekend of wedding festivities in Florida.”

A deep frown creased Darci’s brow. She obviously didn’t like his answer.

“That’s not much help. Are the events we’ll be attending resort-casual? Formal? Semi-formal? What? And you said I can’t over pack because the plane is so small, so what am I supposed to do? Guess and hope I get it right?” Her voice rose along with her agitation.

“Darci, pack whatever you think you need, within reason. I’ll make it fit.”

“Okay.” She slipped off the stool and turned away before turning back. “We won’t crash if my bag’s too heavy, will we?”

“Probably not.” He grinned as her eyes widened. “We won’t. It’s more the size of the luggage I’m worried about than the weight.”

Unless she was packing gold bars in her suitcase, they’d be fine. How much could some dresses and shoes weigh? And some lingerie too, of course.

Bad thought, that. He pushed it aside.

Rick glanced up. “Take my pack. It fits a lot but it’s easier to stash in tight spots than that big hard-sided suitcase on wheels of yours.”

She frowned. “I like my suitcase.”
 

“Because it’s huge and lets you over pack until it’s like sixty pounds and you get that big
Heavy
sticker on it at the airport for being overweight.”

“So what? I don’t make you carry it.”

Chris intervened in the spat. “I’ll carry it, but space is an issue so if you use Rick’s pack, it would help out a lot.”

“Okay. It’s not pretty like mine but . . .”

His lips twitched with a barely controlled smile. “I know it’s not, but I do appreciate you making an exception this once.”

“No problem.” She spun to leave.

Rick glanced up from his bacon as Darci headed for the back door. “Where are you going? Lunch is almost ready.”

Hand on the doorknob, she paused. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to find your bag and make sure it doesn’t smell or anything.”

Scowling, Rick called after her, “How do you even know where it is?”
 

“The same way I know where everything always is.” The door to the garage slammed behind her, cutting off further discussion.

Chris chewed on his lip to avoid laughing at Rick’s unhappy expression. Something fell with a loud crash out in the garage. He glanced at Rick. “Should I go help her?”