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She could have stayed right there all day, in the circle of his arms, but he might eventually notice her hesitancy to attempt shooting the target and question why.
Grace adjusted her grip on the pink pistol slightly, closed one eye, sighted the target, and pulled off a shot that hit the center of a bullseye.
“Lucky shot,” Levi whispered in her ear. The heat of his breath on her neck made a delicious shiver slide along her spine while her heart hammered in her chest. “You’ve been holding out on me, you little stinker.”
Slowly, she turned her head toward his and waited for the impact of his lips on hers, only he didn’t kiss her. As the fog of yearning lifted, she realized he’d taken a step back and was giving her a look she couldn’t quite read.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” he asked, as a grin spread across his kissable lips.
“Only a few hundred times,” Grace admitted. “My dad takes it as a personal insult if I let my brothers beat me when we’re shooting targets. He taught me everything he knows about guns and shooting.”
Levi rolled his eyes and stepped back. “I should have known the farm girl would know how to shoot.”
Grace shrugged again, finished shooting the rounds still in the chamber, hitting a bullseye every time, then walked back to the pickup and loaded the pistol again.
“It’s a really nice gun, Levi. Give it a try,” she said, handing it to him. She could tell he wanted to shoot it, and since it was so lightweight, she knew he could easily handle it one-handed.
“You don’t have to tell me twice. This piece was made by a fine craftsman. And you say it once belonged to Annie Oakley?” he asked as they walked closer to the targets.
“There’s a piece of parchment in the case, yellowed with age, that gives proof to that claim. As far as Adelaide Brennan owning it …” she paused for dramatic effect, lifting her shoulders in a shrug, “that is anyone’s guess.”
“Didn’t she star in …” They discussed old movies for a moment, then Levi took aim and fired the pistol, hitting the bullseye of the target on all five shots.
“This really is a great weapon, Grace. Thank you for letting me shoot it.”
“Of course. Want to try it again?”
He nodded and went to reload it. “But only after you give it another try.”
Although she loved the little pink pistol, Grace had the most fun when Levi handed her the shotgun and let her shoot the clay pigeons he lobbed into the air using a hand thrower.
“If I were just guessing, I’d say you are enthralled by shooting clay pigeons. I think you only missed one.” Levi smiled at her, and she could see his pride for her on his face as well as hear it in his voice.
“I wouldn’t have missed that one, but I got distracted.” She wouldn’t tell him he was the reason for the distraction. She’d been so intently watching Levi as he tossed the clay pigeon that she hadn’t gathered her wits in time to shoot.
“Can Cindy shoot as well as you?” Levi asked as they walked back to the pickup.
Grace couldn’t contain the unladylike snort that rolled out of her. Levi gave her a look of surprise, then grinned broadly.
“I’ll take that as no,” he said as he set the shotgun in the gun rack in the pickup after checking a second time to make sure it wasn’t loaded.
“Cindy is not into guns, vehicles, or most sports. She does enjoy going for walks and spending time outdoors when the weather is nice, but she’s not one who would ever jump into a game of baseball or eagerly work up a sweat running.”
“Are you? Eager to run, I mean?”
Grace shook her head. “Not particularly, but I do enjoy a good baseball game from time to time.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what sports he liked, but then she thought of his hand and the new limitations he imposed upon himself and thought better of it.
“Would you like a tour of my house before we head over to Ma and Pop’s place for dinner?”
“I’d love that,” Grace said, allowing Levi to open the pickup door for her. When he slid behind the wheel, she looked over at him. “Are you sure I won’t be imposing?”
“Not at all. Ma is beside herself with excitement that you’re coming, and Pop promised not to ask too many questions.” Levi put the truck in gear, and they headed back to his place.
He introduced her to his horses, and Grace happily greeted a freckled, homely mutt when it ran over to them. “That’s Spreckles. She’s a good dog and friend.”
“What breed is she?” Grace asked as she knelt down and gave the dog several scratches behind her ears and rubs along her back.
