Mackenzie pulled an arrow out of the quiver and nocked it in place. Pulling the bowstring back, she let her deltoid muscles do all the work. She pulled past the resistance, all the way to her anchor point, her finger lightly touching the corner of her mouth.
They were back in the same area as the day before. This time there were more people watching, their voices blending in the cool breeze as it shivered through the tree branches.
Aiming, she blew out a breath, forcing herself to relax. Focus on the target. She released the bowstring, and the arrow raced through the air. She squinted in the weak morning light. The arrow hit the target just a hair off the center mark.
Bloody hell.
She’d tried all night to get Hunter out of her head. Squeezing her eyes closed, she envisioned locking him in a box.
She nocked the next arrow in place, pulled, released.
This time it hit true center.
The third arrow hit dead center also.
She stepped off her mark and turned around.
Hunter was watching her. What is goin’ through that head o’ his? Their kiss the night before had rocked her world. Had he been affected just as much?
She nodded at him, then hurried out of the way so he could take his turn.
They’d agreed to shoot three arrows each, in five rounds.
Hunter stood ready, drew his bowstring back and let the arrow fly. She followed the arrow’s trajectory, and could tell it would hit the center.
The next arrow also hit center, but the third landed just out of the red target.
A squeal echoed behind her, and she saw Carley run up to Hunter as he left the mark. She stood on tiptoe, but he stepped back before she could kiss his cheek.
Interesting. As she walked to the position, Hunter backed away, but Carley waited for her.
“Win or lose, you’re not his type,” Carley said.
“Who says I bloody hell want him?” Mackenzie snapped.
“I’m just trying to help you so you don’t get hurt,” Carley huffed.
Mackenzie watched her walk away, swinging her arse. Glancing at the crowd, she saw quite a few men watch as she pranced by them. Snorting in disgust, she took her place.
Her heart raced, and she knew she had to calm down, but Carley’s remarks had made her so angry.
She nocked an arrow, then something made her glance behind her. Hunter watched her, but she could see Carley behind him, laughing with Bryant, her costar, and pointing her way.
Well, she’d show them.
She went inside herself, tuned everything out so all she could hear was her own breath, her own heart beating. Just her and the bow.
Drawing the bowstring back, she released the arrow, then immediately pulled another arrow out, nocked, let it fly. She went beyond the three arrows and sent all six flying, one after the other.
Every one of them hit the center and formed a tight circle.
Dead silence met her as she lowered the bow. Then applause and cheers filled the cold morning air. She glanced at Hunter—he stood slack-jawed, eyebrows raised.
When would she learn to control her temper?
Hunter walked toward her, held his hand out. “That was—”
Heat and embarrassment crawled up her chest, inched up her neck. “Not sporting.”
“Are you kidding? That was awesome. Amazing. Pure talent.”
“Really? You’re not angry?”
“Why would I be angry? Not everyone could do something like that, even practicing for years on end.”
His praise filled her up. “So you admit that I do real work, not fake Hollywood stuff?”
“Of course.”
Now she was confused. “Then why have the competition?”
“I like watching you in action. You’re a natural at riding, shooting and archery.” He grinned at her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, wished she had her granny’s old cast iron skillet in hand to bop him over the head. “That’s no’ verra nice of ye.”
“Your face is so alive when you’re ticked off. Your red hair practically crackles with energy. And I wanted to see what you could do with a shotgun and a bow and arrow. You’ve got a lot of innate talent. You do anything you set your mind to, don’t you?”
She was at a complete loss. He’d just admitted to teasing her on purpose, then he’d gone and complimented her on things she’d worked hard at learning, worked hard at being the best she could be.
His interest had become pretty clear. She hated that she still had trouble trusting men who showed their interest in her.
It wasn’t a bet with his brothers, was it? She’d already had her heart broken once by a bet. She had to protect herself.
What would happen when it was time for her to go? That was the billion-dollar question that kept her tossing and turning at night.
Hunter took his hat off as he walked inside the lodge.
“There you are, darling!” Carley called from the staircase.
Inwardly, he groaned. He needed to let her down easy. He’d known from the beginning this was just a flirtation, on both their parts. He dreaded that Carley might be wanting more now. Mackenzie had become too important to him.
He smiled at Carley as she crossed the lobby to his side. “Hey.”
“I need to talk to you,” she said. “Could we go somewhere private? It won’t take long.”
“Sure. I need to talk to you, too.” He led her to one of the smaller meeting rooms off the lobby, then closed the door behind them. “Have a seat.”
“I have to get back to the set in a few minutes. I’m so glad we met up,” she said, sliding her hand up his arm.
“Look, Carley. I can’t see you—”
“I’m getting back together with Bryant,” she said in a rush, interrupting him.
“Excuse me?”
“Seeing me with you made Bryant super jealous, and he begged me to come back to him.”
“Then I’m happy for you,” he said.
“I have to run,” she said, and opened the door. As she stepped out in the lobby, she blew him a kiss. “Ciao!”
That was easy. Here he’d worried that he would hurt her by admitting he hadn’t really been interested in her at all. Now he didn’t have to.
Now he was free. It was what he wanted, right?
But his thoughts drifted to the kiss with Mackenzie the night before. He’d just wanted to thank her for making him feel like he wasn’t a failure when it came to being a dad. An innocent kiss was what he’d intended.
Then he’d touched her lips, and he felt like he’d come home. That he was kissing the woman for him. He’d never felt like that with Yvette. Yeah, they’d loved each other, but they’d been so young, it felt more like playing house.
Mackenzie was a hell of a woman. When he’d first met her, he thought she was prickly, a tumbleweed. But she had more depth than he’d ever imagined. Kind, sweet, patient with his sons, caring, funny as hell, brave, talented—yes, still prickly. He’d had fun teasing her, getting her riled up—that was when she came alive.
Now he knew she also came alive when he kissed her. And she’d touched a part of him he thought had died a long time ago.