How had she not heard him come up the back steps?
Grabbing her plate, she moved to the table and sat, forcing her shoulders to loosen, her expression to stay neutral—even as her pulse refused to cooperate.
“Hi.” She kept her tone polite. Controlled. “Did you get everything straightened out with your uncle?”
“Yeah, well… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze sliding everywhere but her face.
Uh-oh.
“It turns out I’ve got nowhere else to go right now. Every couch is either taken or off-limits.”
“But… you can’t stay here.” The words tumbled out, sharper than she intended. She pushed to her feet, shaking her head. “You just can’t.”
He lifted his hands, palms out, like he was approaching a skittish animal. “Look, I know this wasn’t part of your plan. But I’m only here a few weeks, then I’m gone. Back to work. I’ll stay out of your way, chip in for utilities, food—whatever you need.”
He kept talking as she continued to shake her head. “I’ll clean up after myself. You won’t even know I’m here.”
A laugh almost slipped out.
There was no way she wouldn’t know.
Six foot five. Two hundred-plus pounds of solid muscle. A presence that filled every inch of space he stepped into. Add in hair she had no business wanting to touch and eyes that saw far too much every time they landed on her…
No. She’d know.
“I can even help you out,” he added.
That stopped her.
Her head tilted, suspicion replacing outright refusal. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a second before releasing it. “How?”
A slow, devilish grin spread across his face—like he knew he’d found the crack in her resolve.
“Uncle Dan told me about your ex. About you running.” His voice softened, but there was steelunderneath it. “The gun’s good to have. But if you don’t have it on you for some reason, how do you plan to defend yourself?”
He did have a point, as much as she hated to admit it. Without that gun, she was helpless. “I hadn’t really thought of that.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you know how to shoot that thing, anyway? You were holding it right, but it didn’t look natural in your hands.”
“A gun is supposed to look natural?” She let out a very unladylike snort. “That sounds like an oxymoron.”
The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “If you know what you’re doing and practice enough, it becomes natural after a while. I can give you a few lessons and show you some self-defense moves in exchange for the spare bedroom.” He paused. “I also have a good ear if you care to talk about anything.”
She went quiet for a moment, mulling over what he’d said. She could use the training. If the people chasing her found her, she had no idea how to fight back. Hell must’ve frozen over, because she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “The ear I don’t need. The lessons I do. You have a deal as long as you respect my privacy while you’re here.”
“Deal. If you want, we can start training right after you have lunch.”
Moriah nodded in agreement, but inside she wondered if she had just made the second-biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Six
A large black-and-whitesign announcingBig Al’s Gun Shop and Firing Rangehung above the brick building KC parked in front of. The place sat wedged between a tattoo parlor and a rundown strip joint. The area wasn’t much to look at, but ironically, it was one of the safer parts of town—frequented by locals, cops, and military members alike.
You had to be registered to use the range, though each person could bring one adult guest. Uncle Dan and his nephews had kept their access over the years, even after KC and Sean moved away. It made visits like this easier.
They’d spent plenty of time here growing up, competing to outshoot one another. Despite hisnephews being younger and more than capable, Dan Malone still won more often than not—a skill forged in the Army and sharpened with time.
Glancing at Maura, KC took in her nervousness. “Are you ready for this?”
