Closer...

BOONE WATCHED HER EYES close, felt her breath as she leaned forward. His gut tightened as he moved in to kiss her, but the sound of a heavy weight just across the gym startled him into backing away.

He coughed, trying to cover his embarrassment, then turned toward Milo, who was staring at him accusingly. “Let’s go. We need to grab something to eat before we go to the range.”

Behind him, he heard Christie shift on the mat. She didn’t say anything and he hoped she wasn’t planning ways to use her new training to kick him in the nuts. She had every right. Dammit, he was the one in charge of this operation, and he’d clearly given her the wrong signals, which was not only stupid but dangerous.

He turned around to find her standing near the door, her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders slumped. All the confidence she’d had just moments ago had vanished because he was a screwup of the first order.

“What do you want for lunch?” he asked.

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe we can find a diner that serves Lucky Charms.”

Not a smile, not even a glance. Shit.

“Okay then, I’ll take you to a place I like. It’s not fancy, but it’s on the way.”

Christie shrugged. Then she called the dog, and when Milo approached she crouched down to give him a hug.

The woman was terrified out of her mind. She had exactly one person to turn to. “Come on. Let’s hit it. I want to get in a couple of hours at the shooting range.”

As she led Milo out of the gym, Boone kept a respectful distance behind her. He could tell she was sore. Her movements were stiff, her posture rigid. She’d need a long soak tonight, and an early bedtime.

He would stand guard, and he wouldn’t think of anything but the job.

SHE STOOD WITH BOTH FEET flat on the floor, shoulder width apart. The headphones played no music, just blocked out sound, and the goggles hurt the backs of her ears. She stared at the target, the familiar silhouette they show in all the movies, and she imagined that it was the bastard, standing right there.