me to take you inside and test both of our control, you should think about throwing.”
She took the hatchet and spun it around in her hand by the handle, looking far too comfortable with the lethal instrument as they moved back. “One of these times I’m going to accept your not-so-subtle offer before you rescind it again and hide behind your moral code.”
The back-and-forth, the flirting . . . so dangerous. Every time he let his mind wander and slipped in a bit of innuendo, she rose to the challenge. One of these times he’d lose the will to walk a line back, then the real fun, and all the trouble he feared, would start.
He kept guiding her back until they reached a distance that guaranteed this wouldn’t be an easy task for either of them. Unless she had experience with this. He didn’t. Other targets, others games—yes. Not this particular one, but he guessed the skills would transfer. “I’ll look forward to that.”
“Not very professional of you.” While walking, she turned and dropped the blanket on the steps before looking at him again. “I thought you said you didn’t fuck on the job.”
Hearing the harsh word in her soft voice shoved him right to the edge. She was playing with him now. Playing and winning. “One hit and you get a question.”
“I think I’m familiar with the rules.” She let out a low whistle. “You are a man who likes his rules.”
When she finally reached the start line he drew with the toe of his boot, he moved around her. Let his lips travel over her soft hair as their arms touched and he shifted to stand behind her. His mouth lingered by her ear. “Oh, and when I hit the target I get to ask one of you.”
She kept her focus on the target a rough twelve feet away. “Most of what I know is classified.”
“Spare me the theatrics.” He hated to pull back. Had to mentally order his muscles to obey and put some room between them. “You get three chances. Yes or no?”
She spared him a quick glance that let him know she’d accepted the challenge before stripping her gloves off and dropping them by her feet. “What you mean to say is I’ll get three questions. Because I will not miss.”
“I like the confidence.” Hell, he was starting to like everything about her. Even those times when she got all haughty and demanding. He definitely liked her now, when her playful competitive side came through. “Hot.”
She aimed. Really aimed. Lined up her feet then shifted her weight right before taking a step forward. Her arm rose over her shoulder and ended empty as if she’d just shaken someone’s hand.
Gabe’s gaze went from her wrist to the target. The blade wedged into the log, cutting right through the tape. Of course she could throw a hatchet. Why didn’t that surprise him? “Even hotter.”
“That will teach you to underestimate me.”
“Yes, it will.” He walked over and jimmied the blade out of the log.
She waited until he stood beside her again to say anything. “Where are we?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Montana, east of the Continental Divide.”
“Huh.” Her gaze traveled over the horizon. “Not what I expected.”
“I’m an enigma.”
“Not quite the word I’d use.”
He’d debated going somewhere closer to D.C. but decided they needed unpopulated and away. “But it’s colder than usual for this time of year, and there’s much more snow than I anticipated.”
“You couldn’t check the weather report before the plane took off?” Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re still not forgiven for drugging me, by the way. That one is going to haunt you. It will circle back around and bite you in the ass. Be forewarned.”
He had a feeling her real level of anger didn’t match her threats. She could have woken up in a rush and come after him. She hadn’t. Not really. It was as if, on some level, she understood how the operation spun out.
“I wanted snow. The easier to hide you in, my dear.” And that was true, so he stopped there and held out his palm to prove he held the hatchet. “My turn.”
He skipped the big show and the perfect form. He’d been throwing things at targets since he could walk. His father, the perfect military man who vowed to raise the perfect future soldiers, would drag all three boys outside and teach them how to shoot at cans and throw knives. The hatchet weighed more, but the technique