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“This is a Glock G19. This is the magazine, the grip, the trigger, the barrel, the slide, and the chamber.
“Where’s the safety?”
“Trigger safety is here. Your finger needs to be fully engaged on the trigger to inactivate the safety.” I empty the magazine to show her how to load it with the speed loader. “Insert the magazine, pull the slide back until it locks open, hit the slide release, and a bullet will enter the chamber. The gun is now cocked and locked.”
“So…pull the trigger and go bang, bang?”
I chuckle at her adolescent, but very accurate conclusion. “Exactly.” I hand over the gun. “Your turn.”
Josephine takes the gun like she’s holding a live grenade, but she unloads and loads it several times like I’ve shown her ‘till she seems comfortable with the action.
Taking the gun back, I motion with my free hand at the bottle targets. “First rule of gun safety is never point a gun at a person unless you intend to do them harm. Second rule is to never put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. We’re going to do some target practice. Keep both eyes open, both hands on the gun, line the sights up with the target, and shoot.”
After our earmuffs are securely in place, I demonstrate by shooting once at one of the bottles and it explodes. Josephine nearly jumps out of her construction boots.
I motion for her to take off her ear protection like me and hand the gun back over to her. “Your turn.”
Josephine glares warily at the pistol in my hand. “Um, I don’t think this is a good—”
I stop her from finishing the sentence by putting the gun in her hand. “It’s fine, Pixie. Trust me.”
Those coastal-blue eyes of Josephine’s stare at me, doubt clouding her vision. My woman needs my reassurance, and I’m more than willing to accommodate.
Smiling, I take her by the hips and turn her toward the bottle targets. “Relax and breathe normally. Spread your feet shoulder-width apart to steady yourself. When you’re ready, keep both eyes open, aim, and shoot like I showed you.”
I place her ear protection back on before donning my own. Placing my hands on both sides of her waists to anchor her in place, I let her feel my confidence seep into her, letting her know without words that I’m in this with her.
Josephine follows my instructions; her small chest rises and falls naturally. She raises the gun and pulls the trigger, clipping the top of one of the bottles.
Josephine rips her earmuffs off, spins around holding the gun out in front of her, and beams like the sun. “I did it!”
Jesus!My hand gently, but firmly, pushes her hand holding the gun downward. Being taken out by my fiancée wielding my own handgun is not the way I want to go down.
“Remember rule number one—never point a gun at someone unless you intend to shoot.” Josephine looks a little chagrin, but her enthusiasm is winning out. Her giddiness makes me grin. “You had a damn good first shot, Pixie. Do it again.”
Josephine dons her protection and shoots again, hitting another bottle dead center, and scattering its remains to the wind.
My little woman goes to town, emptying the magazine, and destroying all the bottles. Had I known I was going to unleash her inner Annie Oakley, I would have brought more rounds. For her first time shooting, she did pretty awesome.
“Again,” Josephine says, bouncing on her toes. Her gemlike eyes are wild with excitement.
Hot damn!Josephine getting all target-practice-hungry is sexy as sin. Makes me want to bend her over and fuck her senseless. My cock is going to be a very angry appendage for not following through.
“We’ll do more tomorrow, along with some hand-to-hand combat training, I promise. Right now, we need to get you over to Lloyd’s build,” I say apologetically.
“Aw, come on! One more time, please?”
I may have created a little gun-toting monster. I smile and shake my head. She needs to get to the site and manage her crew. She’ll be upset with herself if she’s late on the first day of a new project.
Josephine pouts.
Unable to help myself, I laugh at her cute little sulking act, pull her against me, and give her a long, unhurried kiss on her pouty lips.
* * *
“Sonofabitch,” I mutter as my fingers fumble over the tiny-ass buttons of my dress shirt.
Josephine assigned me suit detail and it’s turning out to be a disaster.
