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It’s nice letting Dayton take charge. Not having to think about where we’re going or what we’re doing is blissful. I just let go of everything that is happening on the case and ask him some personal questions. Sometimes I need to do that, otherwise all the bad in the world gets to me, and I have a mini breakdown, which was where I was headed, but he could see that and just took charge and distracted me.
The vegetation on either side of the path is thick like much of the vegetation in this area. I guess there’s no shortage of water in this part of the world. The path opens up to a pool of steaming blue water, and Dayton drops his bag onto the ground before bending down to unzip it. He pulls out a blanket and shakes it, and I chuckle.
“You just happened to have a picnic blanket in the back of your car?”
He frowns and looks down at it before looking back at me. “Yeah, sure. Don’t most people?”
Well, that’s a good question actually. Do they? I have no clue what normal people are like.
He bends down and rummages around in his bag again before standing up and holding out a pistol and a magazine. “Here, why don’t you blow off some steam?”
I feel a smile spread across my lips as I take the magazine and jam it into the gun. There are a few bottles and cans lying about, and Dayton gathers them all and sets them up on a log about sixty-five feet away. I’m practically itching to fire the gun, but I wait until he returns to my side.
“Sorry, I don’t have any ear protection,” he apologizes, and I wave him off with my free hand.
“It won’t be too bad out here anyway.”
He stands next to me as I blow out a huge breath of air, trying to center myself, and let all the chaos float away. All it’s going to do is make me tense, and then my aim will be off.
“How about we make this interesting?” I suggest to Dayton, and I see him grin out of the corner of my eye.
“What do you suggest?” he asks, sounding curious, and I shrug.
“How about I get to drive your car back if I hit them all?” I wonder if he’s going to be funny about his admittedly beautiful classic car.
“Okay,” he agrees easily, and I frown, wondering what the catch is.
Turning, I raise an eyebrow. “And if I miss?” I’m interested to hear what he wants from this game.
“A kiss for every one you miss.” My mouth drops open in surprise before I can stop it, and he chuckles. “But that shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” he teases, and I turn back to the lineup.
The asshole knows what he’s doing, because while I was coolly confident I would hit them all before, he now has me slightly rattled. Does he really want me to kiss him, or was it just to throw me off my game? It fucking worked, and he may very well end up claiming those kisses.
I close my eyes and let all the background crap drift away. It’s not a huge distance, and one that I’ve easily done before. Shit, I hit Dad from three times this distance, but I had a scope and there was no pressure. This is a whole different kettle of fish now that there are stakes involved, and I kind of hope I miss. I would love to know what it’s like to kiss this quietly confident, brooding man. Is he a slow smolder burning beneath the surface, or will he ignite like a flash fire and burn me to the core with his passion?
I open my eyes and fire the first three rounds. Ping, ping, ping. I easily take down the first three cans, and they fly off, lost in the vegetation behind the log. Next is a bottle, and I frown.
“I don’t want to spread glass everywhere,” I tell him. “That will just make this spot dangerous for anyone else who uses it.”
“Well, I guess that counts as your first miss, so I get one kiss.” I scowl at him before turning back to the log. There are two more glass bottles and two more cans.
“You set me up,” I grumble as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and grins. I pick off the last two cans, but there are still three glass bottles standing that I refuse to hit.
“Look at that. I guess that means I get three kisses, and you don’t get to drive my car.”
Growling, I empty the last four bullets from the magazine into a large tree farther back from the glass targets. Wood slivers fly through the air as the bullets strike the large trunk, and I hear Dayton chuckle next to me. The slide clicks open, telling me the magazine is spent, and I drop my hand and shove the gun back at the sneaky bastard.
“Yeah, yeah, chuckles, laugh it up, but let the record show, you cheated. Though I’m not sure I’m surprised. You cheated when you tripped me down the stairs too. You fight dirty.” I poke him in the chest as he takes the gun out of my other hand. His eyes sparkle with light and amusement, and it almost takes my breath away. This side of Dayton is sexy and seductive, and wow, it’s so unexpected
He grabs my hand and tows me back to the picnic blanket, where he shoves the now empty gun into his bag before pulling out two towels.
“Food or swim first?” he asks, and I debate my options. If I eat first—depending on what’s on the subs—it will affect how good the kiss is. I have no idea if they have onions on them or not. If we swim first, though, I can probably get my kisses in then.
“Swim,” I answer, and a slow smile spreads across his lips.
“Sounds good.” He strips off his shirt, and I’m momentarily pectomized. Whoa. The man has well-defined pecs, and across his right shoulder and over his chest is a bright blue and green Chinese dragon tattoo. There’s another one that wraps around his left waist, just under his left pec, moving toward his back, but this one is red. On his right hip, just where his pants sit, I can see another dragon head, this one yellow, and I guess the rest of the body is on Dayton’s back. They are stunning, and I’m mesmerized by them because with every movement, it looks like they are undulating across his body. I never expected so much color in a tattoo on this man, but I guess I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. I reach out before I can stop myself and trace a finger over the dragon on his chest. He stops moving and allows me to.
“Why dragons?” I ask, and he shrugs.
