Page 50 of Hollow Forest

Hold.

Bang.

The pumpkin split clean down the middle. It toppled off the pallet and burst apart on the gravel below.

“Yes,” I hissed.

Behind me, Joey laughed quietly. “Damn good shot.”

Pride rushed warmly through me before I could stop it. I turned just enough to catch the look on his face. It was genuine this time. Those midnight eyes were molten.

I almost called him monster.

“Your turn,” I croaked, feeling slightly dizzy.

Joey rolled his shoulders once and raised the gun. Somewhere overhead, birds called as they cut across the sunset.

Bang.

The final pumpkin jerked hard but stayed perched on the pallet, barely hanging together.

I stared at it. Then at him. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Joey lowered the gun slowly, squinting at the pumpkin like he could will it to fall apart. “Wait for it.”

A second passed.

The pumpkin tipped sideways and rolled off the pallet with a wet splat.

He immediately pointed. “See? Dead.”

“Nope.” I laughed, already backing toward the truck. “Too late. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine,” he groaned.

I set the rifle down and planted my hands on my hips, grinning so hard my face hurt. The cold barely touched me anymore. Adrenaline still buzzed hot beneath my skin.

He rubbed his jaw. Rasped under his fingertips. "What will it be? Dinner and lifelong bragging rights?"

The wind swept through the pit, carrying dry leaves skittering across the rocks. My stalker was clean-shaven.

Maybe he shaves before he visits.

I gulped. My voice shook. "I want that flannel."

His dark brows knit in confusion.

I played the strange request off with a shrug. "I don't have a winter wardrobe."

"Brutal,” he hissed, but began to pull apart the buttons. "This is my favorite."

I smiled sweetly. “Should’ve shot better.”

Time slowed to a torturous crawl. He slid first one, then the second arm out of the sleeves.

My heart fucking sank.

Yes, he was wearing a short-sleeved tee, but the skin on his arms was tanned.