“Loosen your grip just a bit. Imagine you’re holding a pool stick and getting ready to shoot. If you have too tight of a grip, you’ll miss the shot. Guns take a caring touch. Does it feel comfortable?” he asked after she relaxed her hand some.
“Comfortable? Do comfortable and guns belong in the same sentence?”
“You’ll get there.” He brought his other arm around her, wrapping her in his muscular arms like a beefy taco. “The slide,” he tapped the top of the gun. “Make sure it’s always in line with your forearm. This way you have more control over any recoil. Don’t touch the trigger,” he chastised. “Not unless you’re ready to shoot.”
“That sounds about right. A person should never touch any trigger unless they’re ready to pull.” Hearing the hiss of his breath, she smiled, loving the power she still had over him. Very few things compared to getting a rise out of Egan—literally.
“Take your other hand,” he reached for it and gently led it to the gun, “and place it here. Now you have even more control,” he said next to her ear.
“That does feel better. Is this called gripping the shaft?”
He chuckled. “Call it what you’d like. Keep your wrist at a forty-five-degree angle.” He tapped her wrist. “Here in this spot you’ll have more power.”
“That was easy enough.”
“That’s only one lesson out of many.” He took a step back, allowing the air, and the world to return between them.
She wanted to moan in protest at the sudden disconnect, but by his expression he wanted to stay centered on teaching her. “Okay. What’s next?”
“Stance is important too. Spread your legs,” he demanded.
Blinking, she felt her face flush. “As you wish.”
“Not too wide. Shoulder width is fine. Very good. Now bring the gun up, remember to keep it at a forty-five-degree angle.”
“How’s this?” She looked over at him, sweeping the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip. His jaw tightened under his five o’clock shadow.
“Behave yourself, Novah,” he growled.
“Behave myself? I’m only following your direction.”
He took the distance between them in one long stride and he leaned in, brushing against her. Sending the flames inside her to an inferno. He was so close he could kiss her and every nerve ending in her body came alive with hope. Her lids closed on their own accord and she waited. Then it came, “I’m taking the gun.”
Snapping open her eyes, she looked at him, seeing the humor in his expression. He knew what she’d wanted, what she’d anticipated. He took the gun from her hands and she watched him load it. “Why are you doing that?”
“You’re going to shoot.”
“Is that necessary?”
“It is a gun, isn’t it?”
He turned the gun around and held it out safely. “Now take it. The safety’s on.” He pointed to a release button.
Feeling a little shaky, she refused to show vulnerability. Wasn’t this a test, after all? She took the pistol, remembering how to grip the handle, lifted it, holding it steady. “I just want you to remember our bargain.” Feeing brazen, she clicked off the safety, aimed at the row of bottles and pulled the trigger five times, hitting her target every single shot. With a smile, she lowered the gun, then took out the magazine, making sure no bullets remained in the chamber then checked for loose bullets. “It’s all clear.” She held it up for him. “Did I pass?”
He narrowed his gaze. Several heart beats passed. “I believe I’ve been swindled.”
“Look, you didn’t ask if I’d taken lessons.” She wanted to laugh at his gobsmacked expression, but she maintained herself.
“But you hate guns.”
“Yes, I do, but when we were married you always had them in the house, locked up of course but still in the house. I wanted to learn gun safety. Finley and I were home alone many nights and although I didn’t want to ever think I’d have to be put into a position to save our lives, I knew it could be possible.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I never got the chance. When shall we get in the kitchen?”
“I did make a promise, didn’t I?”
“Yes you did.” She sighed. “Also, I’d like to see Finley.”
“Novah, I know you do. So do I.”
“I still think we should go to the police.” The fear invaded her spine again.
“And tell them what?” He blew out a long, frustrated breath.
“Let Lindsay tell them her story.”
“Novah, listen. She can’t prove anything.”
“What if she has a blood test and the drug they gave her is still in her system?”
“Most drugs are gone within twenty-four hours, and even if there were traces of it remaining, Langley has money. He’ll use it to keep himself out of trouble.”
Although she didn’t want to admit it, she did see how the problem could be manipulated. “She’s carrying his child though.”
“Yeah? She’s his mistress. In this instance, that’ll be used to diminish her character.”
“She’ll never be safe, will she?” Her throat burned.
“Pao and I have a plan.” He pushed his gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Let’s get back to the house. We can talk to Lindsay over dinner.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SHE WAS SO damn beautiful that it hurt.
Egan could barely take his eyes off Novah from where he sat across from her at dinner. She was having a casual conversation with Pao about football. Although she was smiling and seemed at ease, Egan could see the worried lines around her eyes and how she kept touching her hair, a sure sign that she was stressed.
