Hitched to the Gunslinger by Michelle McLean

Chapter Eighteen

Mercy had managed to stop cooking the meatloaf a few moments before it transformed into a lump of leather, and both men ate without complaint. Well, Jason wouldn’t have complained even if she’d served him actual leather, but Gray seemed to enjoy his meal rather than tolerate it, so she deemed everything a success.

After supper, Gray resumed his usual spot on the porch for his post-meal nap. Mercy cleared the dishes, thanking Jason when he brought everything into the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked as she began to wash up.

“No thanks, I’ve got this. Why don’t you go out on the porch with Gray? It’s such a nice night. Probably won’t have too many more of these before the cold weather moves in.”

“All right, if you’re sure I can’t help.”

She smiled at him. He was such a sweet man. “I’m sure. Go on out.”

He grinned, giving her a little bow, and left her to the dishes.

Once she had everything cleaned up, she joined them. Gray, of course, was snoring in his chair. Jason, though, was polishing one of his guns.

“That’s beautiful,” she said, pointing to the gleaming metal.

“Thanks. Do you want to try it?” he asked, holding it out to her.

She glanced at Gray. He hadn’t moved a muscle, but his snores had softened into deep, regular breaths.

She knew what he would say. But as he wasn’t paying attention at the moment…

“Yes, please,” she said, carefully taking the gun from him.

“Let’s go over there, and we can do some target shooting,” he said, pointing toward the fence on the far side of the yard.

He lined up several apples along the fence line and then planted his feet, demonstrating how she should stand. She watched him for a few minutes. He didn’t get all the apples, but more than she would have, certainly. Then she stepped up to try.

Her first shot went completely wide and hit a tree several yards away.

“Oh!” she said, frustrated and dismayed.

Jason laughed. “No worries. This is why we are doing this out here and not where we might hit something we don’t want to. Try again.”

She took a deep breath and aimed again. This time the shot hit the fence, but a good three feet from the apple she’d been aiming at.

“Here,” Jason said, stepping closer to her. “Try this.”

He lifted her arms, showing her how to hold the gun. “See, if you hold it here, then you can look down through the—”

“Sunshine!”

They both turned at the sound of Gray barreling down on them.

“Yeah, Sheriff?” Jason asked.

“I thought you were going to call him Woody,” Mercy said with a laugh.

Jason grinned. “I decided I wanted to keep breathing.”

“Smart choice.”

“Move, Sunshine,” Gray said, stalking closer.

“Gotcha.” Jason immediately moved a healthy distance away from her and waited for Gray to reach them. His massive grin, though, said he knew exactly what Gray’s issue was and he loved it.

Gray’s face was thunderous as he marched toward them, and Mercy’s stomach flipped. Was he…jealous?

He certainly had no reason to be. Jason had been nothing but polite. He’d kept a respectable distance between them, even when he’d been showing her how to hold the gun. He’d been a total gentleman.

Despite that, apparently Gray hadn’t liked it. And Mercy hated to admit it, but…well, she’d never had a man jealous over her before. It wasn’t something she would have ever thought she’d like. Jealousy was a silly, pointless emotion. Still, she couldn’t help that spark of satisfaction that shot through her at the thought that Gray wanted her all to himself.

He didn’t stop until he was standing in the place Jason had vacated, and he wrapped his arms around her, moving them back up to where Jason had had them.

“If you wanted to learn to shoot, you just had to ask,” he said, his voice that gruff, gravely tone she loved so much.

She raised her brows and glanced back at him. “You’re joking, right? I’ve asked you to teach me so many times you started burying your guns.”

Gray frowned and pointed at the apples. “Concentrate,” he said, ignoring her comment.

She rolled her eyes and did what he said. When her arms wavered, he stepped closer, plastering his body to hers and enveloping her in his arms. He wrapped his hands around hers and helped her hold the gun steady.

“Look straight down the barrel,” he said, his lips brushing her ear.

She shivered but did as directed.

“Aim a little above where you want to hit. Take a deep breath. Now pull the trigger.”

She pulled and the apple on the fence exploded.

“I did it!” She turned, letting him pluck the gun from her hand so she could throw her arms around his neck.

He wrapped one arm around her waist and held out the gun to Jason with the other. She planted an exuberant kiss on him. And then another, more lingering kiss. His hand squeezed her waist as he went in for a third, this time kissing her so thoroughly she wasn’t sure if the birdsong she heard was from actual birds or a sudden side effect of his lips.

He broke away long enough to haul in a ragged breath, and she let her lips trail across his jawline to his ear. He groaned and leaned into her.

“Sunshine?” he said, addressing Jason, though he didn’t turn his attention from her.

“Yeah, Sheriff?” he asked as he took the gun from Gray.

“Go home.”

“You got it, Sheriff,” Jason said with an ear-to-ear grin.

He tipped his hat to Mercy, and she didn’t care at all that Jason knew exactly why he was being dismissed, because Gray’s lips had already found her neck and he had hauled her fully against his hard and very aroused body.

“Is he gone?” Gray asked, his fingers already working at the buttons of her blouse.

She tugged at his shirt and glanced over his shoulder, smiling at the cloud of dust rising behind Jason’s horse.

“He’s gone.”

“Good.”

Gray walked her backward until she was flush against a tree. And then he began kissing her in earnest, his mouth hot and slick against hers. He didn’t wait until her blouse was fully unbuttoned but reached inside the moment there was space enough for his hand.

“Gray.” She sucked in a shaky breath and glanced around. “We’re outside.”

His other hand started hiking up her skirts. “We are. I don’t think Lucille and Birdie will tell anyone.”

The goat in question wandered by, gave them a thoroughly disinterested look, and kept going.

“See?” he said.

Mercy opened her mouth to protest again, but his fingers slipped beneath her bloomers and any words she’d been about to say were choked off in a gasp.

“God Almighty, woman,” he groaned, pressing a finger into her. “If I’d known how ready you were for me, I’d have kicked Sunshine out hours ago.”

She laughed, her hands making quick work of his belt and the buttons on his pants. “If you had your way, you’d ship him off to Siberia.”

“Where’s that?” he asked. Then she slipped her hand beneath his waistband and wrapped her fingers around him.

“It’s over near—”

“Never mind, I don’t care.” His mouth crashed down on hers and he drew one of her legs up, wrapping it around his waist. “I can’t wait,” he said, yanking her skirts up and out of the way.

“Me either,” she said, doing what she could to get their clothing out of the way. She’d rip every stitch of it off if she had to, as long as—

He entered her before she could finish the thought and for a second, they both clung to each other, reveling in the feeling of being totally joined.

“Gray.” The word came out as more of a plea than his name.

“Hang on, darlin’,” he said, and for a second, she thought he wanted her to wait. She was about to protest when he began to move, and she realized he truly meant for her to hang on.

He set a punishing pace, and she clung to him, able to do little more than lean back and feel as he thrust hard and deep. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and drew him back down to her lips. He groaned and his movements faltered. But she was right there with him. Just one more…and she shattered.

“Gray,” she gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he gave a final thrust and stilled.

She let her trembling leg slide back to the ground and he moved just far enough away so that she could drop her skirts. But he didn’t let her away from the tree. He rested his head on her shoulder while they both struggled for air.

When they finally had themselves pulled back together, Gray offered Mercy his arm. He glanced back over his shoulder at the spot they’d just left.

“You know, that orchard might finally be growing on me.”

Mercy laughed. “You mean you don’t want to burn it down now?”

“Well, not that tree, at least.”

She rolled her eyes, but inside, her heart skipped.

The last few days had been so wonderful. But the nagging feeling that their peaceful days were numbered wouldn’t leave her. She shivered despite the warm sun and their recent exertions.

Josiah would strike soon. She just hoped they were ready when he did.