Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I mock glared at him, causing his grin to widen.
Then I looked away, not wanting to rub anything in my father’s face if I could help it—and got my first good look at the target.
“You missed,” I said in surprise.
“He didn’t miss,” my dad said. “He made it. All forty-one shots. He shot the top right there, see?”
I did see after he pointed it out.
The targets my father used were the ones that had a tiny example of the targets in the top corner, and on that smaller-scaled picture, there was an explanation of each ring’s points.
All shots but one—which was at the head of the tiny little target—was dead center in the middle of the mini-target.
Holy. Shit.
“Holy crap,” I said. “That’s impressive as hell.”
“Practice,” Rafe said. “But I shot all my hollow points. I’ll have to go get more. Y’all save the brass?”
Dad nodded, and Rafe went around picking up the spent brass shell casings. Once he had his hands full, he walked them over to the jug in the corner and slowly dropped them inside without another word.
My dad caught my eye, and for the first time, I saw him grinning.
“I can do that, too, you know.”
I snorted. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go ahead and make me feel like a subpar human being, why don’t you?”
Rafe came up behind me and placed his large palm on the small of my back.
“You’re not a subpar human being, but before you start gloating, you should see if you really are the best one in the room,” Rafe teased.
I pinched his non-existent belly fat. “Thanks for nothin’.”
Rafe winked and then let me go, clearly uncomfortable with any public displays of affection with my father anywhere near around.
Not that I could blame him.
The poor guy had a huge mountain to climb when it came to my family.
They’d disliked him from the very beginning, and was over something Rafe had absolutely zero control of. I would be sure to inform my family that their shit ended when we got together.
And they would give me that.
They wanted me to be happy, and it would be very apparent to everyone in the room that he made me happy.
All they had to do was look at my googly eyes that I couldn’t hide when it came to the man.
“So, Mr. McHot Pants, how do I fix my jerking problem?” I teased.
He replied in an instant.
“You’re anticipating the recoil so you’re bracing your hand once you’ve already pulled the trigger. Which then causes your hand to jerk slightly,” he answered. “What I would suggest is this,” then he moved behind me and showed me how he’d hold the gun.
But, when he was done explaining, he didn’t move back. He stayed where he was. “Try it.
And I did. I did exactly what he showed me, with him solidly at my back.
And I shot a bullseye seven times.
I was profusely impressed.
“Not that I don’t think that was cool, but you can’t be standing at my back all the time. What happens if you’re not here and I need to take care of business?” I looked up at him and batted my eyelashes rapidly.
He bent down and whispered in my ear. “If you need me there, I will be. As your support, your guide, or even to take that gun from your hand and do it myself. I’ll be there. If I’m not, I’ll get there as fast as I can. The day that I’m not will be the day that I’m dead.”
Tears threatened to choke me.
I wanted to say so many things to him. Wanted him to know that I’d be those same things to him. But my dad interrupted the moment by cursing.
Then Rafe was gone from my back, but he smoothed his hand down my backside before he went, making the loss not so terrible.
I turned once I had myself under control, looking to see my dad with his hand on his chest.
“Daddy?”
Chapter 17
Are nap dates a thing? I could go for a snuggle.
-Janie to Rafe
Rafe
“Jesus Christ. Would y’all get off of me? I’m fucking fine. They said it was nothing,” James growled to those around him. “Get the fuck out of here!”
I kept my grin in check. Barely.
“Come on, ladies. Let’s go get some food from the cafeteria,” I suggested to Janie and her two sisters that wouldn’t stop pestering their father.
Shiloh, James’ wife, was smiling.
Janie tried to fluff James’ pillows again, and he’d had enough.
“Janie, swear to God if you touch my goddamn pillow one more time…”
Time for me to step in.
“It was a gallbladder attack, y’all,” I said, stepping farther into the room. “He’s going to be perfectly fine. They’ll probably suggest surgery to remove it, which will be superb because gallbladder attacks fucking blow.”
Scout, Janie’s younger sister, snorted. “And how would you know?”
My lips twitched at her angry words. “I had my gallbladder out when I was thirty. Best feeling ever to be able to eat again. Freakin’ sucked ball…sucked bad,” I answered. “But it’s not a death sentence. It’s just a nuisance.”