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“Sorry,” his chuckle vibrated my body with his close proximity.
“You don’t sound sorry,” I rolled my eyes, “you sound mighty pleased with yourself.”
“Maybe,” his fingers skimmed up my bare neck and his lips grazed my ear, “I like distracting you.”
“You’re very good at it,” my eyes fluttered closed and my teeth sank into my lip.
“I’m good at lots of things,” his voice was husky.
“Boy!” Warren yelled. “Stop bothering that poor girl!”
“Sorry, Gramps!” Trace laughed and stepped away from me. “It was too fun to resist,” he added to me with a lick of his lips.
God, that man could talk me into doing anything, with a few simple words, and a lick of his pouty lips.
I eyed the target again and let loose another bullet.
I whooped in joy when it connected with the paper. It may have been in the bottom right corner, but I had hit it.
“Try again,” Trace smiled, “aim a bit higher and to the left, though.”
I did as he said, and hit the target again, closer to the center this time.
“This is fun!” I exclaimed.
Warren, Trent, and Trace all chuckled at my enthusiasm.
“You’re a Wentworth now,” Warren cackled and shot his target, hitting it in the center. “One of you boys, do me a favor, and change my target.”
I saw that his paper target was completely hollowed out in the middle from his accurate shots. Trent’s looked similar but with a few that had missed the mark slightly.
Trent put his gun down and changed the targets.
“You’re doing really good,” Trent assessed my progress.
“Thanks,” I smiled at him.
Trace continued to work with me until I finally hit the center of the target. He changed my target and set up his own. We shot side by side. He had to stop and help me a few more times, but for the most part, I had gotten the hang of it nicely. I was definitely better at shooting a gun than painting a picture.
I found myself getting distracted by watching Trace shoot his own gun. He was obviously at ease with the firearm and it was a huge turn on seeing him look so masculine.
He twitched under my scrutiny and missed the target.
Trent and Warren burst into laughter.
“That was your fault,” Trace mock-glared at me.
“Mine?” I batted my eyelashes. “What did I do?”
“If you keep looking at me like that,” he eyed me, “then we’re going to have a problem.”
“I didn’t know I was looking at you in any particular way?” I played dumb.
He stepped forward and gripped my elbow in one of his warm hands. He whispered in my ear, “You know exactly how you’re looking at me, Olivia. If you keep it up, I’m marching you straight to my bedroom, and spanking you.” His intense green gaze had me shivering, despite the warm temperature.
I looked over my shoulder at Trent, who was watching us with a smirk, and Warren was staring at us with a raised brow.
I blushed, clearing my throat, and took a step away from Trace.
