Page 41 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“Fine.” His face got a cocky smirk. “So how exactly do you plan on defending yourself if you get an unwelcome visitor and I’m not here?”
Damn it. I’d had the same question myself earlier today and hadn’t had time to figure out a better answer than shutting myself in the bathroom. “I’ll, uh, run away.” That would work, right?
“And what if that unwelcome visitor is faster than you?”
“I’m really fast.”
“Sure you are.” His chest started to shake but he held in his laughter.
“I don’t know, okay? I have no idea what I’d do. Hide behind Boone, I guess, and hope he licks the person to death. Or maybe I’ll hide in the biffy. No person in their right mind would go anywhere near that outhouse.”
At my declaration, he gave up trying to keep it in and his laughter echoed off the walls. I glared at him, my fists clenching even tighter as he bent over, belly-laughing to the floor. Finally, he got it under control and stood tall, shaking his head as he smiled.
“No guns,” he said. “I won’t make you use one. And I wouldn’t want you to get anywhere near the biffy again so I’ll bring you a can of bear spray next week.”
“Thank you.” The tension in my arms disappeared and I relaxed my hands.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Will you at least come outside and watch while I shoot a couple rounds?”
I didn’t especially want to but since he’d given on his end, I could give a little on mine. “Fine.”
For the next hour, Beau patiently showed me how to use a handgun. He taught me to load it, where the safety was and how to squeeze the trigger to fire. Though my hands never touched the black metal, I did feel more comfortable around the weapon by the time we walked back to the outpost for dinner.
And for the rest of the night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would one day be grateful for his lesson.
Beau
“Mom, I’m sorry. I can’t go to your party this year.” I’d told her the same thing five times over the phone but she’d stopped by my office this morning to ask again.
“Please?” She summoned a sad and pleading look that tugged at my heart.
Fuck. She was pulling out all the stops. It was nearly impossible for me to say no to Marissa Holt’s big doe eyes. Mom had used this look for as long as I could remember, almost always getting her way.
I’d seen it before every family reunion, when she’d guilt me into manning the barbeque and cooking for fifty people. Once, that look had convinced me to volunteer for the dunk tank at her church’s annual fundraiser. The worst had been when she’d guilted me into a dinner with Annie Stevens—first date from hell.
But I wasn’t giving in this time. “No.”
My holiday plans were, for once, something I really wanted to do. Not that I minded Mom’s annual Fourth of July party, but it was more for her than me. This year, I was being selfish for my holiday. I was taking an extra day and spending it at the outpost.
“Annie Stevens is going to be there.”
Now I had another reason to stay away from the party. “Mom, I’ve told you a hundred times. Annie Stevens is a very nice girl but she’s not my type.”
“Because she’s too pretty? Too sweet?”
Too obsessed? On our one and only date, she’d brought with her a binder full of newspaper clippings that mentioned my name. I think Mom liked her because she had the matching binder. While I loved that my mom was so proud of me, Annie’s fascination bordered too close to stalking.
“I’m sorry. I know this party means a lot to you but I can’t make it.” I reached out and pulled her in for a hug. “Besides, you won’t even miss me.” Last year, I’d left after an hour and she hadn’t even noticed.
“Fine,” she sighed. “I miss the days that you kids all came to my parties. Michael can’t come now that he’s running the firework show. Maisy has plans with friends. And now you seem to always be camping these days. Maybe I should change it from an evening barbeque to a lunchtime party.”
“Good idea, but even still, I can’t make it. How about when I come back from the mountains, I take you out for a special lunch at the café to make it up to you? Just you and me.”
She hugged me tighter. “I’m ordering pie. With ice cream.”
I smiled and let her go. “Deal.”
“All right.” She collected her purse off my desk. “I’ll let you get back to work. Enjoy your weekend.”
