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I tuck my Glock back into the waistband of my chinos, and wrapping my arms around Gabriella, I nudge her arms up.
I line up the shot, then order, “Pull the trigger.”
She fires a round, and it hits the side of the target.
I adjust her arms. “Shoot.”
This time, she hits the heart, and the corner of my mouth lifts. “Again.”
Bang.
“Again.”
Bang.
“Again.”
Bang.
I lower my arms, and not even thinking, I pat her on the ass. “Good.”
I fist my hands, so I don’t reach for her because I want to feel every inch of her body.
My voice is hoarse as I order, “Keep shooting until the magazine is empty.”
I load magazine after magazine into the gun and watch as Gabriella gets better with every shot she fires.
As she pulls the trigger again, my eyes land on the engagement ring, and I notice it’s a little too big for her.
I’ll have to get it resized.
I don’t like the idea of removing the ring from her finger one bit.
“What’s wrong?” Gabriella asks.
“The ring is too big,” I mutter.
“I’m picking up weight. It should fit better soon.”
My eyes drift over her body, and I like the sound of her being curvier. Not that there’s anything wrong with her body, I just won’t have to be so fucking careful not to hurt her.
A weird expression flashes over her face. “Unless you’re against me picking up weight.”
The fuck?
“Why would you think that?” I almost bark the question.
“My mother always controlled my weight. I thought maybe you’d want to do the same.”
The. Actual. Fuck?
I suck in a deep breath, so I don’t lose my temper and mutter, “I’m not against it. Just don’t lose more weight. You’re already as light as a fucking feather.”
A smile spreads over her face. “Okay.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I ask, “What else did your mother do?”
Just like before, she shakes her head and replies, “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
