Ghost's Treasure (21 page)

"Yeah. Its way out of my price range, but Ryan got them to cut me a deal." She grabbed her purse and moved to his side. "I'm still not sure there wasn't any money or promises exchanged, which there had better not have been, but I can't say I'm unhappy here. It's like living in a mansion without the worries of future break-ins."

The whole place spoke of luxury, money, and tranquility with pampering.

Josie fit in here and absolutely deserved an upgrade. After her ordeal, she needed a home with solid safety to help her overcome the last of her reservations. Her old place only piled on the memories of her traumatic event, lending to increased anxiety and little sleep. Judging by Josie's well-rested appearance and peppiness, this place agreed with her tons more.

He'd call up Ryan later and thank him.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep."

He followed her to the door, waited for her to lock the place, then walked with her down the flight of stairs, and to his waiting truck.

Once they settled in the vehicle, she eyed him and grinned. "Black. Your signature color."

He shrugged.

"That's okay. It's perfect on you. Sexy, too."

His sense of humor leaped. He'd missed her subtle flirting in the past couple of days when he'd been pulled out on a quick assignment.

"Did your mission go okay?"

He blinked at her mind reading abilities. "Yeah." As much as he understood her curiosity, he couldn't and didn't want to talk about what happened. If they were going to continue seeing one another, even casually, she needed to recognize hard boundaries.

"Good. I was worried you'd be hurt." Her face scrunched in worry.

Reaching out, he enfolded her hand in his. "First of all, I'm not quitting my jobs. Either of them. It's what I do and will continue to do until I feel I'm no longer able to perform."

She blinked at him. "I know that, and I support you fully. Heck, if it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't have survived." Her face softened. "It's who you are. I applaud you and appreciate you. Yes, I worry, but that's just because I care, not because I expect you to quit."

The tension eased from his shoulders. He spared her a quick glance, finding the truth in her expression. "You also know I can't talk about things."

Josie nodded. "Yep. I just need to know you're okay, not nursing a major hole in your hide, and won't have some nasties showing up at your door at two am to finish the task."

Amusement cascaded over him. "No gunshot wounds. No trip to ER. No remaining nasties."

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "That's all I needed to know." A block passed before she spoke again. "Where are we going?"

"Right here." He pulled into the lot, parked, and unsnapped his seat belt.

"Where's here?" Josie slipped from her safety belt, opened the door, and slid out.

Ghost clicked the truck locked as soon as the passenger door shut and Josie stood by his side. "Shooting range." He watched her face carefully.

Excitement and bliss sparked in her eyes and covered her face. Like a child on Christmas morning, Josie nearly glowed with joyful energy. "One of my favorite places." She grabbed his hand and tugged.

He grinned to himself. Definitely a woman after his own heart. Without taking the time to ponder his thoughts, he let her lead him inside the building.

An average-sized man with graying temples glanced up from a handful of papers, shared a look with Ghost, then eyed Josie. "Bring the little lady in to teach her how to shoot?"

Ghost schooled his face as he answered. "Something like that."

He'd met Johnson, the owner of the firing range a couple years back. They shared a similar background, though they never spoke about their individual experiences. Instead, both recognized the swagger, the confidence, and attitude of a SEAL, present or former. Without saying a word, Johnson handed over any weapon Ghost requested, marked the item as sold, and didn't blink at the vague information on the paperwork. Running his ID wouldn't get him far anyway. Ghost routinely carried a handful of aliases along with a top federal government security clearance card.

Josie stepped up to the old wooden counter and searched the rifles in holders behind the desk.

Johnson moved directly in front of her. "Starting out with a small handgun might be easier than one of those heavier rifles." He opened the case and pulled out a small derringer.

She eyed the weapon and shook her head. "No thanks." Twisting, she found Ghost. "What do you think?"

He searched the numerous choices, his eyes automatically locking on the Barrett M98B. "Try that one." She'd used the same weapon at the cabin.

Josie looked where he pointed and nodded. "Can I try that one please?"

Johnson's eyebrows furrowed, but he dutifully pulled the gun down. "Want to give it a try?"

"Yep." She latched onto the gun and carried it with the barrel pointed skyward around the corner, following the owner as he led the way to the shooting area.

Johnson's establishment sported a typical firing range. Cement walls surrounded the area. There were shooting stations, each one leading to their own lane and target. A small table sat waiting at the top of each, giving the shooter room to load and set the gun down while slipping on the protective ear coverings. Three other men were currently in the room simply chatting away. As soon as they entered, all talk ceased as they stared at first Josie, then Ghost.

"Why don't you take the middle section?" Johnson handed over a case of shells to Ghost. "I assume you want to show her?"

With a quick nod, Ghost accepted the bullets, strode over to Josie, and made a big show of loading her rifle. He caught her mischievous expression and bit back a smile. She was going to show these guys a thing or two. He applauded her for it and couldn't wait to see the shock on their faces when she blasted away at the paper target. Something told him she'd done this before, probably at her father's shop, and got a kick out of proving the men's assumptions wrong.

"I think you're ready."

Josie pulled the headgear on, then accepted the rifle. She stepped up to her allotted area, lifted the rifle to her shoulder, aimed, and squeezed the trigger in rapid succession.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
The smallest circle around the printed heart exploded while the rest of the paper remained free of bullet holes.

Ghost didn't watch the target like everyone else. Instead, he focused on the faces of the other men in the room. Their mouths fell open. One guy blinked over and over as if he couldn't believe what he saw.

"Damn." Johnson spoke first. His gaze locked on Josie once more before flicking over to Ghost. "She's a ringer." He spoke in between bursts of gunfire as Josie pulled the trigger a few more times.

She clicked the safety on, put down the gun, and slipped her earphones off, hanging them over the dividing board between stations. Hitting a button, she waited for the device to bring her target to her.

Yanking the paper off the pin, she grinned wide, and made a beeline for Ghost, holding the paper in front of her. "What do you think?"

He caught her enthusiasm and couldn't help but smile at her exuberance. "Very nice. You rushed the second pull just a hair, which caused the bullet to not quite follow the first perfectly." Most men would have just praised her. Not him. He knew she wouldn't appreciate a pat on the head when she could have done a bit better. If she chose to return to competition, she'd need the imperfections pointed out along the way.

She eyed the paper closer and nodded. "You're right. I hadn't noticed that."

The farthest man away stared at them. "Hell, man. She did excellent. Don't be so critical."

Ghost spared him a glance.

"It's okay." Josie swung to look at the man who chivalrously tried to protect her ego. "I compete in shooting. If I'm not perfect, I expect him to tell me so. Otherwise, how am I to reach the top of my game?" She smiled sincerely at the men.

One of them whistled low. "What kind of competition?"

Josie winked at Ghost. "Biathlon."

"The what?"

She rolled her eyes. "No respect, I tell ya."

Ghost's lips hitched upward. "Want to try another few shots?"

"Sure." She handed her paper to him. "Then I want to see you in action." She hurried back to the station and strapped on the hearing protectors again.

"Where'd you find her?" Johnson watched Josie fire off another couple of rounds.

"She found me."

"Damn. Some men have all the luck."

His had been all bad for nearly as long as he could remember. Until now. Perhaps the tides had begun to change. He looked at Josie and felt a twinge in his heart. After years of nothing but hardship, maybe, just maybe, things were looking up. In the form of Josie.

He shouldn't lead her on with false intentions, but for the life of him, he couldn't seem to stay away. During the downtime the trip provided, his thoughts returned to her. Wondering how she liked the new place. If she managed to move everything. How work treated her when she returned. If she missed him.

He nearly rolled his eyes at his own admission.
Damn SEAL, you've got it bad.

As much as he swore he'd never commit to one woman again, he couldn't believe how easily he'd forgotten his own rules. Josie held responsibility, and the thought of leaving her to find another man like Johnson fanned a flame of anger and certain regret.

Somehow the little librarian wormed her way into his previously dead soul, breathed life back into his heart, and settled in for the long haul. He didn't know whether to thank her or paddle her perky rear for awakening something long dormant inside him. Perhaps both.

"Your turn." Josie held out the rifle to him, clutching her latest paper target.

Never before had he utilized the range when any other customers were there. They didn't need to see his skills, ask questions, or whisper about his abilities amongst their friends. His reputation revolved around being nearly invisible and not standing out in a group. Yet when Josie smiled up at him, he couldn't resist showing off just this once.

Stepping up to the lane, he didn't bother with the hearing devices. Instead, he raised the weapon and fired twice. A deadly double tap. One to the heart, the other to the brain.

Johnson hit the button to retrieve the paper. With one glance, he shook his head as a wry smile appeared on his face. He looked at Ghost with knowledge and great respect.

The other men pressed close, their eyes on the paper. "Holy shit. How did you do that?"

Ghost set the weapon down on the small table after clicking the safety on. Pulling out his wallet, he plucked a couple of bills and handed them to Johnson. "We've got to get going. Dinner reservations."

Gathering Josie, he placed one hand on her back and guided her back the way they came, not stopping until they reached his truck.

"That was priceless. Did you see the looks on their faces?" She clicked her seat belt and beamed. "Now that was fun."

"I thought you'd like that." He shoved the key in the ignition. "Something tells me you've pulled the same deceptive act before."

Josie nodded. "All the time at my father's place. Men simply don't think women can shoot or know their way around a gun. I love to get their goat and prove them wrong." Her expression turned to one of awe. "You've got some serious skills."

He cranked the engine, put the truck in gear, and pulled out onto the road. "It's what I do."

"And why you're the very best."

Her words stroked his self-confidence.

A squalling interrupted the soft music on the radio. Ghost reached down and turned the volume up. "Severe thunderstorm warning for Crystal County, Montgomery County…"

He checked out the sky and flinched. "Maybe we should get dinner to go."

"Definitely. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather be at your house, with your truck in the garage to avoid the hail, and not stuck at a crowded restaurant if things turn really bad."

"Your wish is my command." He turned left and headed for the sandwich shop.

* * * *

"I'm stuffed." She rubbed her stomach and plopped down on the couch.

He followed suit, settling next to her. "Not bad for a quick supper, but not as good as your enchilada at the cabin."

She grinned at him. "Liked that, huh?"

"Yep."

"I'll make it again for you."

Hail pelted the roof as rain plummeted down so hard they couldn't see more than a couple of inches out the front window. Mother Nature's fury provided their after-meal entertainment for the night. Loud thunder rolled as lightning cracked nearby, the electricity carrying through the air and making Josie jump.

"Dang that was close."

Ghost wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his side. "We'll be just fine here. If things go sour, there's always the basement."

"With a secret tunnel exit?" She blinked up at him coyly.

"Perhaps."

She wiggled closer, and he savored the moment of rightness in his world. Not since Lindsay had he simply sat on the couch cuddling with a woman. He'd forgotten how relaxing and wonderful the fleeting niceties in life could be.

Josie sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. "Why me?"

He looked down at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Why me? Of all women you could spend your free time with, why me? After all, I would have placed bets you were ready to be done with me a few days ago."

Ghost considered her question for a long moment. "I'll admit at first, I didn't care for the job."

"Then?"

"Then I began to see the true you. Not just another troublesome woman."

The corners of her mouth curled up. "Oh, I can be troublesome."

He snorted, leaned over, and planted a kiss to her crown. "Definitely, but in a different way. You didn't ask for evil to crop up all around. Besides, you did the right thing returning the jewels. Most people would have unloaded them as soon as possible for a huge profit."

"They weren't mine to sell."

That's what he appreciated about Josie. She spoke the truth and carried goodness even though the rest of society had allowed their morals to slip. He knew where he stood with her, never worried she'd take what he told her and twist the information for blackmail. His continued survival teetered on secrecy. Her knowledge of some basic parts of his life could be enough to get them both killed. Yet she seemed to understand the dangers and respected his lines drawn in the sand.