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“‘Sound and fury,’” Niall said, quoting Shakespeare. “‘Signifying nothing.’” He smiled lazily at Shane. “There was gunpowder in the cartridges, but no real bullets. You really think I’d let someone take a shot at you, Essbee?”
Carly glanced up at Shane, her eyebrows raised in a question. “Essbee?” she inquired, looking like a hound on the scent.
Or like a tiger shark smelling blood in the water, he thought humorously. “It’s S.B. Short for Shane Breckenridge,” he explained before Niall could. “And don’t ask,” he added when she opened her mouth.
“Okay, I won’t.”
That meek acquiescence might last all of a day, he told himself, holding back a chuckle with an effort. Carly was many things, but meek and acquiescent weren’t among them.
Carly turned her gaze back on Niall. “What do you mean, there were no real bullets?”
“I searched Adams Hall last night,” Niall replied. “I figured, professional like him, he’d want to stash his rifle there ahead of time, just in case there was some kind of metal detector or body search at today’s event. Took me a couple of hours, but I finally found it.”
“And?” Carly asked.
“And it was already assembled, ready to use. I removed the cartridges from the rifle, took ’em apart, removed the bullet tips—that’s the projectile part of a rifle cartridge,” he explained for Carly’s benefit, “replaced them with fakes, put the cartridges back together, then reloaded them in the rifle. Did the same with the remaining cartridges in the box.”
When Carly just stared at him, Niall said, “I was a leeettle concerned he might detect the slight weight difference—the fake bullets don’t weigh quite the same as real ones—but he didn’t. I couldn’t use blanks,” he explained patiently. “For sure he would have noticed.”
“You mean I shot an unarmed man?” Her dismay was obvious.
Niall shook his head. “Not unarmed. He would have killed Shane in a heartbeat if he’d had his way. I just made sure he couldn’t, that’s all.”
“But how did you know—” She caught herself before she finished the sentence. “You were a sniper in the marines,” she said, nodding to herself. “That’s how you knew what to do. That’s how you knew what he would do.” She was silent for a moment, and when Shane looked at her, he saw growing frustration on her face. “Why didn’t you at least tell your brother?” she demanded of Niall. “I get that you weren’t going to tell me, but why did you let him think—”
Silent laughter, which Shane tried to restrain but couldn’t, convulsed him for a moment. Carly punched him on the arm—and not the light tap she’d given him once before, either. “What’s so funny?”
“I should have known,” he said, his eyes brimming over with humor as they met his brother’s eyes. “Payback for being an idiot, right? For making myself a target?”
Niall just grinned. Carly glanced from Shane to Niall and back again. “Is this some stupid guy thing?” she asked pointedly. “Because I have to tell you, no woman would even think of pulling a stunt like that.” She rounded on Niall. “Yes, and you’re forty years old,” she accused him, her eyes narrowing. “Not a kid. Don’t guys ever grow up?”
Shane took Carly’s coffee cup from her and placed it on the end table beside him. Then he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. When he finally raised his lips from hers, her eyes were dazed, her cheeks flushed. But she still retained the ability to say, “And don’t think you can distract me this way, Marine, because I—”
He kissed her again. And again. Until she melted into his embrace and kissed him back. Until he forgot where he was. Until he forgot his own name.
“Jeez,” his brother said from somewhere far distant. “Get a room, would ya?”
Chapter 22
Not quite six weeks later
Carly hung up the phone with Shane, a slight, puzzled frown between her brows. This was the third time since his return from Arizona that he’d made an excuse not to see her, and she didn’t know what to make of it.
