“Let’s get on with it, then,” he grumbled.
With practiced ease, he explained how every piece of the pistol worked. He showed me how to reload and eject the magazine quickly and efficiently. He drilled me on how to eject it one-handed, so I could disarm the gun if it was about to be taken and used against me.
The sun beat down on our training session, and soon I was sweating despite the chill.
“You’re a tough instructor,” I complained, wiping sweat off my forehead.
West laughed. “Tougher than Nico? I doubt it.”
“Nico always went easy on me because he knew I didn’t want to be involved in the family business.”
“Ah, so that explains why you’re so bad at this,” he teased.
I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m better than the average person, thank you very much.”
“I’ll give you that, sweetheart. Let’s take a break.”
He draped an arm over my shoulders, leading me away from the range and into the wooded surroundings. I leaned against his side, basking in his warm wool and smoke scent. He was only wearing a t-shirt, putting his muscular arms on display.
I expected us to head back to the house, but he veered off the main path and led me into a clearing instead. A picnic basket was laid out on a blanket in the centre of the space, along with a small cooler.
The guards were so discreet I barely noticed them, except for the occasional rustle of a bush, but they must have helped him set this up and protected it from being disrupted while he gave me part one of the lesson.
“Figured you might get hungry out here,” he grunted. “Sit.”
Having these guards around was really cramping my style. I would much rather push him down onto this blanket and sit onhim.
I plopped down cross-legged onto the blanket, and he sat beside me. His calloused fingers undid the ribbon bow on top of the picnic basket, revealing a silk-lined interior full of small sandwiches and other finger foods.
“Before you get nervous, your chefs made this up. Not me. I just told them what to put in it.” He grabbed a cinnamon scone and handed it to me.
“Why nervous?”
“Do I look like someone who can cook?”
“Stranger things have happened.” I shrugged, taking a giant bite of the scone.
He popped open the cooler and handed me a bottle of iced coffee. With a sip of that to wash down the scone, it was heavenly.
I’d never imagined that I would end up with a mate who in one second was teaching me how to use a gun, and in the next was spoiling me with a forest picnic. This was every woman’s dream. It was hard to believe I’d almost missed this pack entirely.
I could have ended up with Benjamin, who wasn’t even patient enough to let me stop and smell the flowers.
West kept handing me items from the picnic basket until I insisted he eat some of it himself. He nibbled at his sandwich until I was completely stuffed and had stopped eating. Only then did he really dig in.
Laying back onto the blanket, I stared up at the sky, my hand resting on his thigh. Clouds danced past in wispy shapes, quickly revealing the pristine blue once again. I was half asleep by the time West cleared his throat.
“Your lesson was only just getting started, little omega.”
I groaned. “You can’t spoil me with a picnic date and then drag me back to the shooting range. Can’t we do the rest tomorrow morning?”
“Yes I can, and I will. Are you really going to want to tire yourself out with a shooting lesson before meeting Brooks O’Connor tomorrow?”
He had a point. Huffing an exaggerated sigh, I sat up. West helped me to my feet, kissing my forehead. “Only an hour longer,” he promised. “Shoot some targets and we can head inside.”
“Fine, I can accept that. For my safety.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
