Under Threat by B.J. Daniels (reading the story of the .TXT) 📕

her. And she understood that. Their lack of faith and belief was mixed up in grief and a terrible tragedy. But that didn’t mean she didn’t miss it. She understood, but that didn’t mean she stopped craving some sort of support.

So when Vaughn said it, even if he was the last person in the world she should want belief from, it mattered.

He steadied her arms, he had faith in her. It made her feel like she could do not just this, but the whole thing. That together they could find the answers that had eluded her for eight years.

“Pull,” he said, and she did. Because he had faith in her. Because he had given her the tools to pull the trigger.

The gun gave a surprisingly harsh kick, but she remained steady and unshaken, even as the breath whooshed out of her.

“You hit it.”

She turned to face him, still kind of in the circle of his arms, their hands still on the gun. “Why do you sound surprised? You said you had faith in me.”

“Faith in you to shoot the gun, not actually hit the target.”

“But you were helping me.”

“I didn’t pull the trigger. I wasn’t looking at the sights. You aimed, you pulled, I just kept your body in position. Hitting the target was all you, Natalie.”

She laughed, the surprise of it all bubbling out of her. “You’re screwing with me. Trying to build up my confidence.”

“Trust me, if I helped, I’d let you know. It’s not worth giving you confidence if you don’t actually know what you’re doing in the process.”

She looked at the black spot and the little scarring inside it. She hadn’t hit it exactly where she’d been aiming—right in the middle—but she had hit that black spot.

She looked back at Vaughn again, their gazes meeting. Their hands were still on the gun, and she was still pressed up against him. His hand was on her hip, his other arm curled around her other side. It was a very...intimate position—aside from the fact they were both still holding the gun—and yet she couldn’t seem to make herself move.

She was pinned by that gray-blue gaze that seemed to have warmed up a little bit in the fading sunlight. Like something about the heavily setting dusk teased out the flashes of darker blue in his eyes.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her entire insides shivered and shimmered to life. As though that gaze meant something. As though he had the same thoughts she did—kissing thoughts. Maybe even naked thoughts.

He was so not going to kiss her, what was she even thinking? He didn’t like her. He was the consummate professional. Mr. Conventional. Any thoughts about kissing were hers and hers alone, and so out of place it wasn’t even funny.

“We should head back in now that it’s just about dark.”

“Right.”

“You can...” He cleared his throat, his eyes still on her mouth.

That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe you have something on your face. He’s not wondering what your lips feel like on his, that’s all you, sister.

“You can let go of the gun,” he said, that note of gentleness she hated back in his voice as he carefully started to separate their bodies.

“Right.” She dropped the weapon all too quickly, but Vaughn managed to catch the gun before it fell to the ground.

They were completely apart now, a few feet between them. Vaughn put the gun in his holster, not even needing to look at the gun to do so. Which, honestly, should ease her embarrassment. He was so in charge and in control and certain, why wouldn’t she be attracted to that in a situation like this?

It was just...one of those things. Hero worship or something. Natural to find yourself wondering what a kiss would be like from the man who was dedicated to keeping you safe.

“We’ll do more tomorrow. Of the...shooting. We’ll shoot more tomorrow. Not... I mean.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll practice more shooting tomorrow.”

She stared at him, something in her chest loosening. He had stuttered. Ranger Vaughn Cooper had just stuttered at her.

He was walking toward the house now, and she followed, but she couldn’t quite stop the smile from spreading across her face.

Maybe just maybe, she wasn’t as out of her mind as she thought.

Chapter 9

After two days of practice, Natalie had become proficient with his Glock. She had a natural talent, and she impressed him every day.

Vaughn tried not to think too much about that. Because the more he was impressed by her, the more he felt a certain affinity toward her, and that just wouldn’t do.

He’d spent half the past two days searching for information on Victor Callihan. He traded emails with Stevens about the man, but so far they were coming up empty. Clean as a whistle, an upstanding member of the community. Vaughn didn’t trust it. But he couldn’t deny the fact that someone else could be at the center of all this. Just because Callihan was the owner didn’t mean he was the perpetrator. There were a lot of people in his corporation who could be The Stallion and thus connecting the Corlico Plant to The Stallion.

Vaughn’s frustration with the case was mounting. Especially after the email from Stevens that informed him Natalie’s mother’s home had been burglarized while she was at work last night. Vaughn still hadn’t decided whether to tell Natalie. Which was why he was currently doing as many sit-ups as he possibly could to take his mind off of the internal debate.

Natalie would be upset. She would be more scared than she already was. He wasn’t sure she needed that, but he also didn’t like the idea of keeping it from her. Which wasn’t personal. It was his code of ethics. He didn’t like keeping things from people. That was all.

Sure, that’s all.

He continued to do the sit-ups, pushing harder and harder in the hopes of dulling his brain completely. He took off his shirt before switching over to push-ups.

It wasn’t just trying to