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“Perhapslater?” Seventeen uncomfortably clears his throat. “Afterour lesson?” He tries to lighten his tone. “Something tells me chatting time isn’t figured into the cost.”
“You’d be right about that, sugar.” Anne shoots him a wink. “So, you want me to rent you the Mini-14 like Wahl suggested or-”
“Why don’t you rent me what he has?” Seventeen abruptly insists. “Exactlywhat he has.”
“I can’t rent youexactlywhat he has because it’saftermarket customizedbut…” She bobs her head back and forth in momentary thought. “I can get you a stock version.”
“Done.” Seventeen places his credit card down on the counter. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll just purchase one myself after we’re done.” He cuts me a cocky glimpse. “Customize it too.Even better than his.”
“We do sell firearms and aftermarket accessories as well as care equipment.” Anne hits him with a round of finger guns. “The Hunt Locker is Dalvegan’s number one stop shop for all your firearm needs.”
Fighting the urge to put him in his place is done by patting my boss roughly on the back. “How about just the rifle for now, Anne?”
“You two got it.”
She summons over Laura Fay, the strawberry blonde working the other counter, and I do my best to nonchalantly turn on my heels.
Face the opposite direction.
Nothave direct eye contact with a woman I may have almost gotten fired for bending over the counter after hours.
She can’treallybe fired.
Her brother’s married to Anne.
“Wahl,” Laura sweetly calls out in a high-pitched tone, “long time no see.”
And if I don’t turn around that’ll still be true.
“Don’t waste your breath flirtin’ with him today, honey,” Anne swiftly scolds. “He’s a taken man.”
The scoff of disbelief that leaves her sends shivers down my spine. “Since when?”
“For a while now,” is the answer that feels most honest leaving my lips.
“Yeah, but I just ‘saw’ you not too long ago.”
True.
A littletoofucking true.
But what can I say?
Repeats around movie marathons with Arley and BBQs with her familyoccasionallyhappen.
Sometimes I just don’t have the time or energy to go out to a bar, grab a beer, and two-step for forty-five minutes until I can get the little cowgirl that’s been eye fuckin’ me all night to rodeo me in the back of my truck.
Sometimes I need efficiency that isn’t from my hand.
Well.
Needed.
I’m done with that lifestyle.
“How not too long ago?” Seventeen needlessly investigates.
“I don’t know?” Her questioning tone has me glancing over my shoulder. “What was it? Like six weeks ago?”
