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“Is that a SEAL thing?” she scrunched her brow.
“Nah, summer camp. Let’s go find the range.” He took her hand as they made their way out of the woods and crossed the camp toward an area behind the main lodge. They had the place to themselves, and the equipment had been left out.
“Those look a long way off.” Her gaze was on the haybales covered with vinyl bullseyes.
He sighted the targets. They were at about fifty feet. A bit much for a beginner. “We’ll start closer and work our way out.” The bows were already strung so he sorted through them and found one for Sophie. “Here’s a good bow to start on. The draw is twenty pounds.”
“Is that a lot or a little?” she questioned, taking the bow in her hand as they walked closer to the targets.
“It’s just right,” he said. He’d grabbed a forty-pound bow to demonstrate with.
“Teach me, oh wise one,” she said.
Owen chuckled. “I’ll run through it first to demonstrate. You’ll want to stand with your feet shoulder width apart, left shoulder to the target.” He modeled the stance for her. “Hold the bow out level in your left hand, rest the arrow on the shelf and nock it to the string.” He showed her the place where the arrow connected in. “The feather closest to you should be the odd color.” His arrow had two red ones and an orange.
“A special feather. Got it.”
“It’s called the cock,” he continued.”
“The cock?” She laughed. “Seriously? I guess that’s easy for men to remember.”
“And women.” He shot her a grin.
“I suppose. What then?
“Place three fingers on the string below the nock point, pull back, relax your hand and release.” His arrow soared straight toward the target and hit just right of center.
“Nice one,” she commented.
“The distance isn’t much.” He set his bow aside to help her.
“Don’t belittle what’s going to be my great achievement in a minute.” She aligned her shoulder with her target and got her feet in position. She lifted the bow and hesitated. “Something’s not right.”
“Other hand.” He shifted the bow for her, making sure to wrap her fingers around the correct part of the wood. “Put the arrow on.” She did that flawlessly. “Good job.”
“I got my cock in the right place.” She grinned at him over her shoulder, charging the moment.
“Don’t distract the instructor,” he said. “Put your fingers on the string.” She gripped it with her hand, making him think how it would feel to have her fingers close around his…cock. He sucked in a deep breath. “Not so much hand. Just the tips of your fingers should be on the string.”
“That’s no fun. Just the tips?”
“Soph. You’re killing me.”
She laughed again, the sound echoing around them. “I’ll be good.” She straightened, getting back into the proper form.
“Pull back and keep your elbow level with the arrow.”
“Do I close one eye? Squint? How does that work?” She turned her head to the side.
“You’ve got to shoot some to figure out what works best for you. Personally, I keep both eyes open. Some people only keep their dominant one open.” He was grateful that she let the word dominant go. He’d never realized the number of sexual innuendos in archery.
“Okay. I’m ready. I let the string go?”
“It’s more like just relaxing your hand,” he said.
She released the string. The arrow hit low down on the target. “I hit it! Oh, I like this. Let’s do it again.”
He walked her through the steps twice more until she had it. He grabbed his bow and took a position next to her to get in some practice as well, occasionally giving suggestions. When she’d mastered that distance, they backed up to thirty feet from the target and then forty. She continued to get the arrows within the rings. Her enthusiasm bubbled over adorably. He’d never met anyone like her. She was funny, serious, and sexy all wrapped together.
