Sharpshooter

Gunner flinched. “After the last mission, I knew you’d do something like this.” He glanced over his shoulder. Since Gunner was big, easily six foot three, with wide shoulders, she couldn’t see what he was looking at when he glared behind him.

But she had a pretty good idea.

Colin.

“Any man?” Gunner asked as that hard, dark gaze came back to her. “Is that what you’re—”

Her cheeks felt numb. “Don’t say another word.” She wanted to slug him. “You don’t have the right to say anything to me, to judge me.” She’d wanted Gunner, had let him become too important to her in the past few years, but enough. “Slade is gone. I’ve moved on.” She pushed at him.

Gunner stepped back.

Good. She marched away from him and didn’t look back.

Colin stood as she approached. “I want that dance,” Sydney said, and she pretty much dragged him onto the small floor.

She didn’t know what Gunner’s game was. But he wasn’t controlling her. He didn’t want her. He’d made that clear when she’d tried to kiss him on that case in Texas.

Colin’s hands settled along her hips. She was wearing a pair of jeans, a top that was a little low and strappy sandals that pushed her a bit higher than her normal five-foot-six height. Colin was big, not as tall or muscled as Gunner, and—

“You don’t want to come between us.”

Gunner was there. Again. On the dance floor. And he’d just pulled Colin away from her.

This was insane.

“Sydney, come with me,” Gunner said in that low growl of his.

Colin shook his head. “Look, buddy, I don’t care if you are her friend, you don’t—”

“Is that what I am, Sydney?” Gunner asked, his voice flat. “Your friend?

He had been. After that nightmare two years ago, he’d become her rock. The man she depended on. The one who’d pulled her through her darkest time.

But she wanted him to be more than that.

She wanted more.

He didn’t.

“I don’t know what you are,” she told him. “But you should leave.” Because she was tired of living only for the job. She’d find happiness. Everyone else did. She wanted to have a real home one day. A family.

Not just mission after mission.

Why couldn’t someone be waiting on her when she came home? Someone who loved her? Wanted her?

“You heard the lady,” Colin muttered.

But Gunner wasn’t moving. He had started to give Colin a killing glare.

Colin made the mistake of stepping toward Gunner. Of shoving against his chest. “You need to back off—” Colin began.

Definitely a mistake.

Gunner grabbed that shoving hand and twisted it. Colin’s words choked off, and the dancers around them froze as they realized what was happening.

In less than three seconds, Gunner had Colin on his knees…all from that hold that Gunner had on Colin’s hand. Sydney knew the twist that Gunner was using could be incredibly painful, and if Gunner just pulled a little more, Colin’s bones would snap.

This scene was turning into a nightmare.

“Gunner, let him go!” Sydney grabbed his arm. “You’re making a scene!”

“No, he did that when he shoved me.” But Gunner let the other man go.

Colin scrambled away, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He headed for the door as fast as he could.

Well, so much for that dance. So much for the whole night. Sydney turned from Gunner and started marching for the door. The plan had been stupid, anyway. As if she was going to find some kind of Prince Charming in a bar like this.

She pushed open the front door, and the night air rushed over her. Sydney took two more steps, then…

She stopped. “Tell me that you aren’t following me home.” Because she knew he was behind her. As a rule, Gunner could move pretty soundlessly. That was one of the reasons he’d been so good during his time as a SEAL sharpshooter. But she could feel him, so she knew he was trailing her.

“We need to talk.”

Fabulous. “I thought there wasn’t anything to say. I mean, you had your chance at Whiskey Ridge…” When she’d ditched her pride and told him that she needed him.

But he’d stayed aloof.

Gunner always held back with her. Always saw the ghost of her fiancé, his half brother, between them.

She knew now that he wasn’t ever going to let that ghost go. She might want Gunner. Want him so badly that her heart had seemed to break when he kept pulling away, but she’d survive his rejection.

She’d survived much worse than not being wanted by Gunner Ortez.

“What do you want from me?” Gunner asked her.

Everything.

Sydney turned toward him. “I want you to look at me and just see a woman. Not a ghost.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “You’re pushing me too much.”

She shook her head. “I’m not pushing you at all. You’re the one who came here, to my town. You’re the one who showed up in the bar.” Frustrated, she demanded, “How did you even find me here? Did you follow my GPS location?” All of the EOD agents had trackers installed on their phones. But if he’d used that tracking system…Stalker much. “Now I’m the one walking away.”

Only she didn’t get to walk far. Four steps was all she took. Then Gunner’s hands were on her shoulders. He spun her back around and lifted her up on her tiptoes.

“When I close my eyes, I see your face.”

His words, so gravel-rough, had her heart racing.