His gaze narrowed on her, and her core clenched. Roxxy bit back a curse. She’d just fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. He was testing out if she was married. His gaze swept her body again, and she practically melted. Why was her body so strung? Myles Burton was dangerous. Cocky. Good-looking. Muscular and fit. Shit. She was a sucker for a man with muscles.
“How can I help you, Miss Sutton?”
Don’t answer truthfully. Don’t you dare, Roxxy Lynn Sutton, answer him.
“What is the purpose of the recruits donning vests and other equipment for the shooting exercises?” she answered. She breathed a sigh of relief that her lips didn’t betray her.
“It’s much easier to shoot a gun with regular clothes on and having time to aim and shoot. We train the way we go out on real calls. We have to increase the pressure to make sure everyone is capable of handling their own under intense situations. You don’t get a chance to think while out in the field.”
Roxxy nodded in complete understanding. “It’s good to train as if you are out in the field.”
She scribbled a few notes down. Glancing up, she stared at the targets then turned back to Myles. “I want to shoot.”
“Excuse me?” His eyebrows rose high.
“Put me through the shooting test.” She capped her pen. There was no better way to learn about the team than to jump right in the middle. It had been a few days since she’d shot a gun. “I want to get a feel of the weapons you have them use, the targets, the distance, and how you put them under pressure.”
“I thought you were just here to observe?” Myles rested his hands on his hips.
His skeptical look fueled her desire to bust his balls a little. This man, gorgeous specimen that he was, needed to be taken down a peg or two.
She was the right one for the job.
Sergeants MacArthur and Owen arrived at their side.
“What’s wrong?” MacArthur asked, obviously sensing the tension between them.
“She wants to be put through the shooting drill.” Myles smoothed a hand over his bald head.
MacArthur and Owen turned their gazes to her before focusing on Myles.
“No harm. Miss Sutton’s here to get a feel of our screening process, then suit her up,” Sergeant Owen said.
“I agree. She’s here to study our process and protocols, let Roxxy shoot.” Mac shrugged.
“Thank you, Sergeants MacArthur and Owen.” She nodded to both of them.
“If you are going to be here for a while, you might as well call me Mac,” Mac replied gruffly.
“And I’m just Dec or Declan.” Declan chuckled. “Calling us sergeants is too formal.”
Roxxy faced Myles, who was still studying her. A tremor slid down her back from his intense gaze that had nothing to do with the slight chill in the air.
“You can handle a gun, right?” Myles’s gaze dropped down to her firearm.
His lips curved up into a smirk that almost had her stepping forward and whacking him on the arm. Instead, she glared at him and had to bite her lip to keep from saying anything unprofessional and certainly unladylike.
“Watch me, Officer Burton. The barn is where I can grab what I need, right?” she asked, haughtily pointing at the building.
Once he nodded, she turned on her heel and stormed away.
Myles Burton didn’t know who he’d just pissed off.
Could she handle a gun?
Roxxy released a snort and marched her way toward the barn.
“She’s pissed at you.” Dec chuckled, slapping Myles on the back.
“What did I say?” Myles turned around, completely clueless. He’d asked an appropriate question. Just because she had a weapon on her didn’t mean anything. He never wanted to assume someone was capable of handling a firearm. There were plenty of women and men who walked around with guns but didn’t know how to safely use them.
“If looks could kill, you’d be pushing up daisies.” Mac shook his head.
“Was I wrong for asking her?” Myles folded his arms against his chest.
“She’s with the company which is to audit us and advise where we are lacking. I’m betting she can shoot the pants off any of the recruits.” Declan waved to the men exiting the barn.
“Hell, I’d be willing to bet she’d a better shot than Myles.” Mac grinned.
“Now that’s something I’ll wager—”
“Hey.” Myles held his hand up. What the fuck? Shoot better than him? Did they all forget who he was? He had been a fucking sniper in the Army. During missions for SWAT, if they needed a target taken out from a distance, it was him who was the go-to person for it. “First of all, she may be able to shoot better than the recruits, but I’m sure as hell putting my money on her shooting better than you two Navy boys.”
Dec and Mac turned to Myles. Their smiles disappeared. Yup, this Army soldier would be down to bet against his sergeants.
“What’s going on over here?” Brodie jogged over and joined them.
