The sharp crack of the rifle echoed off the surrounding trees, sending up a flight of birds that had settled into the branches only minutes before.

“You’re still off dead-center by a couple of centimeters,” Bree said, sighting the target downrange through binoculars.

Denise raised her head to stare at the target and ejected the spent cartridge from her rifle. “Scope might be off by a hair. I haven’t sighted it in almost a year.”

Bree turned her head, then peered more over her shoulder. “Could also be that you’re kicking your feet up.”

Blushing, Denise lowered her feet and splayed them out on the ground in the more traditional prone position. “Habit.”

“It still boggles my mind that you made it through the Army while kicking your feet up when you shoot.”

Denise made the adjustments to the scope and pressed her cheek against the rifle stock. She sighted through the crosshairs and focused on her breathing and the beat of her heart. The thin lines of the optics rose and fell with each breath. She paused at the end of the inhale, counted to three and exhaled. At the bottom of the breath, she again paused and counted, squeezing the trigger until she felt the slight resistance in her finger, and fired when she hit three.

“Dead center,” Bree said. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “Guess it was the scope.”

Denise dropped her head and kicked her feet, which had come up again at some point. She raised her head. “That’s how I got through the Army with kicking my feet up. I always shot expert.”

“How did your dad let you get away with it?”

She smiled and laughed. “My mom told him it was cute and to leave me alone. That was the first time I remember seeing his eye twitch. He said, ‘Karen. There is nothing cute about being able to take out a target at two-hundred meters.’ She threatened to dress me in a tutu the next time he took me hunting just to prove there was. This was way before they made pink camo, otherwise I’d have been hunting in that.”

“I can totally hear your parents having that argument.” Bree glanced at her watch, then up at the sky. “We’ve got about fifteen more minutes before we lose all the good light. Thank goodness the rain held off today.”

While packing up the rest of her bedroom at the rescue, she’d pulled out her rifle from under the bed where it had been collecting dust and realized she hadn’t been shooting since before Sarah got sick. Her off-handed comment had led to Bree’s suggestion that they get some target practice in before the sun set.

She’d jumped at the chance. For some reason, she’d always found shooting targets relaxing. The rhythm, the focus, the precision—it all calmed her. She had no choice but to let go of everything when she was shooting, otherwise she couldn’t focus on the hitting the target. Even in the heat of battle, she’d been able to keep her cool by focusing on the mechanics.

She’d set up to take another shot when Bree asked, “So what’s going on with you and Chris?”

She jerked the trigger and the shot went wide, hitting the edge of the target. She raised her head from the rifle and turned it slowly, glaring at Bree through slitted eyes.

Bree’s face was the definition of feigned innocence. “Was it something I said?”

“You’re lucky I like you.”

“I know, right? Spill. I watched you with him today. You were this weird combination of standoffish and blushing school girl.”

Laying the rifle down, she rubbed her eyes. “I’m not sure I know what I want.”

“Yes, you do,” Bree said. “You’re just afraid to admit it.”

Denise stacked her hands and rested her chin on them. “I want what you and Jase have,” she said quietly, turning her head toward Bree.

“What’s stopping you?”

“When we’re together, it’s great. I’m in the moment and I can pretty much ignore all the other crap, but when we’re apart…”

“When you’re apart you question whether it’s real or if it’s the adrenaline or the situation or just horniness.”

Denise pressed her lips together. “Yeah. How did you figure out it was real?”

“I listened to you.” Bree smiled.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“It made sense at the time.”

“And now?”

“And now I think you should listen to your own advice.”

“I don’t think I could take it if he walked away again.” The bottom dropped out of her stomach at the mere thought of giving him another chance and him choosing his job over her. “If I go all in and it doesn’t work, what then?”

Bree rested her head on her hands and mirrored Denise's position. “Not every relationship works. You run that risk no matter what. But you have to give it the chance to work first. If you go in from the very beginning with the idea that it’s going to fail, then you’re doomed before you even start.”

“It’s hard not to think the current circumstances are driving our relationship right now.”

Bree raised her eyebrows. “So you admit you have a relationship?”

“We have…something. It’s not like we can do normal relationship stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like go on a date,” she said.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

“Kind of,” she admitted.

“Then ask him on a date,” Bree said.

“Just like that?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“I don’t think it’s the right time with everything going on at the moment.”

Bree raised her head and rested her chin in her hand. “That’s just an excuse. Kimber and Kaden are with your parents until tomorrow night. Now’s the perfect time to go on a date. You don’t have to worry about a sitter, which I would totally be willing to do, by the way, and you can pick what you do.”

Denise rose onto her elbows and picked the cuticle of her thumb. He had already kind of asked her out. Hell, he’d even asked her dad for permission to date her. All she was really doing was setting the date.

But that meant putting herself out there and opening herself up to the possibility of being rejected and hurt. Maybe not immediately, but a few weeks or months down the road when he left again. Could she deal with that? The twisting feeling in the center of her chest told her she’d have a really, really hard time with it. This thing with Chris, whatever it was, felt big. Important. It loomed around the edges of her life and she knew if she let down her walls it would overwhelm and consume her.

What she really had to decide was whether that would be the worst thing in the world.

She nodded a couple of times. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She looked at Bree. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I thought for sure it was going to take more convincing than that. I didn’t even have to pull out any Disney quotes. I’m kind of bummed.”

Denise grinned. “You’re a dork.”

“You love me.”

They heard an engine coming down the hard-packed dirt lane and they both turned to look.

“Speak of the devil,” Bree said.

Denise shifted her weight and picked up the rifle, holding it out to Bree. “Here. There’s five rounds left. May as well shoot them while we have the last bit of light.”

She took the binoculars and adjusted the focus as she stared through them at the target. Bree shot the last few rounds in quick succession, forming a small grouping below the main target. She lowered the binoculars and smirked.

“You mad at Jase about something?”

Bree grinned. “No. I just like to keep him on his toes.” She rose to her knees and cleared the rifle before handing it back to Denise.

Denise pushed up to her knees as well. “I don’t think it’s his toes Jase is going to worry about.”

Bree raised her eyebrows and smirked, then headed toward the truck and Jase.

Even without the crunch of footsteps, Denise would have known Chris was close behind her. It was the cheesiest thing in the world but she could feel his presence.

He squatted down next to her, balancing on his toes and picked up the binoculars. “Nice grouping,” he said. “Who shot off the poor dude’s penis?”

“That would be Bree,” she said. “Her humor can be a little twisted sometimes.”

“Remind me not to piss her off.”

“I think it should go without saying you shouldn’t piss any woman off.” She stood, cradling the rifle in her arms. “What have you guys been doing?”

He rose as well. “Sitting around with our hands in our pants. You know. Guy stuff.”

She grinned. No doubt they’d both fallen asleep watching some game on TV. “What are you doing later?”

“Don’t have anything planned. Why?”

She dropped her gaze to the vee of his green t-shirt. “Would you like to get dinner?”

“No.”

She exhaled sharply, her heart plummeting. She nodded, not trusting her voice to say anything.

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “You’re not stealing my thunder, Denise. I’m doing the asking. I’ve already got something in mind for tomorrow—if you’re free.”

Pressing her lips together to keep the stupid, sappy grin from breaking free, she nodded again. “Other than unpacking, I don’t have anything going on.”

“Can you give me a lift back to my truck?”

She shrugged, more than a little disappointed that he didn’t want to take advantage of Kimber and Kaden spending the night with her parents. “Sure. Where is it?”

“Jase’s house.”

Her brows pinched together. “Yeah, sure.”

“I need to get my jacket from your house, too.”

“My house at the rescue? My house as in Sarah’s house? Or my house as in Bree’s house?”

He chuckled low, the rumble sending a shiver coursing down her back. “You have a lot of houses. Are you going to remember where you need to go tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. It may take me a couple of days before I figure it out.”

“Bree’s house.” He tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear. “I took it off when we started moving all the books on our last trip.”

“Okay.”

He shoved his hand into the pocket of his cargo pants, pushing them dangerously lower. “And I was hoping I could convince you to feed me.”

“You smelled the chicken.” She’d taken the slow-cooker over the day before and asked Bree to set it up so she wouldn’t have to worry about scrounging for food after moving all day.

“I smelled the chicken.” He stepped closer. “I’m willing to make a trade for some of that spicy chicken,” he said next to her ear.

A nervous flutter spread from her belly. Chris would be at her house. With no kids and a bed nearby. “Hmm. I’m sure we can work something out. I have a lot of boxes to unpack.”

“You do, huh?”

“Tons of boxes. It’ll probably take all night.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I brought an overnight bag then.”

“Guess it is.” She winked and stepped around him to put her rifle in its case. With her back to him, she finally let the goofy smile lose.

She had a date.

* * *

“I’m so close,” she whispered. Her head fell back as one of Chris’s hands moved down the center of her body, from her neck to where she sat astride him. Her hips rolled as she rose and fell, his thick erection buried impossibly deep.

“That’s it, Denise. Fuck yeah. Squeeze me tighter, baby.” He rubbed his thumb between her folds, wetting it then rubbing the hood of her clit.

“Oh, fuck.” Looking down at him, she braced her hands on his chest. That sweet tension gathered in her core like flood waters behind a dam, ready to burst.

He bit his lower lip and thrust up with his hips. “Christ, Denise. I’m holding back as best I can. I want you to come.”

She took his thumb and moved it millimeters to the left. “Right there.”

“What do you need?”

“Small circles. Hard. Fast,” she told him. “There. Right there. Oh, God.” Her head fell back again and she jerked her hips faster as she came, an explosion of starbursts behind her eyes following the pulse coursing through her body.

He flipped her onto her back, stealing her breath. Hooking his arms under her knees, he spread her wide and drove into her. He buried himself deep and his whole body shuddered. Unhooking his arms, he wrapped her legs around his hips and continued to thrust. Softer now that he’d come, but no less intense.

Turning his head, he nipped her neck. Shivers shot down her body and she groaned.

“Unless you can go again, you need to stop doing that,” she said.

He stilled. “I’m pretty sure I’m dead. There’s no going again for a while.”

She smiled and ran her hands up his back. “That’s what I figured.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose along her jawline, then kissed her briefly. “Be right back.”

“‘Kay.” Waiting until he’d gone into the bathroom and shut the door, Denise grabbed her robe from the hook on the closet door and used the kids’ bath in the hall to clean up then fixed two glasses of water.

Chris was asleep on his back, his chest rising and falling evenly when she returned. He’d pulled the sheet up only to his waist.

Setting one of the glasses on the table next to him, she took a moment to admire all the glorious muscles and tattoos on display in her bed. It was definitely something she could let herself get used to.

She threw the robe on the end of the bed and lay down on her side in her normal position, facing away from Chris. It felt weird to cuddle up next to him while he was asleep. Plus, she wasn’t much of a cuddler.

In that moment between being fully awake and asleep, he rolled over and pulled her back into his front, jarring her awake again. Her arms shot out and her whole body jerked at the movement.

“Shh. ’S okay, baby. I gotch you.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. Not only from how abruptly she woke, but also from what he said. She could tell from his slurred words that he wasn’t fully awake. They said the most honest people were drunks and kids, but people on the edge of sleep fell into that category. One reason they used sleep deprivation as an interrogation technique.

It was such a simple statement, but it said so much.

She adjusted her head on the pillow and wiggled into his embrace. She could learn to be a cuddler. Her eyelids eased closed, a small smile on her lips.

“I want you to be my person,” he mumbled.

Her eyes snapped open and stayed that way for a long time.