The Right to Bear Arms: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #1)

by Vivienne Savage

  “I really wish you didn’t see that.”

  “I’m really glad I did. You can tell me to shut up if it’s none of my business, but I’m making an honest offer, Daniela.”

  “To teach me?”

  He nodded his head. “Yeah. Do you have a gun in the house?”

  “No. My dad tried to offer me one, but I don’t know the first thing about what to do with it. And... my ex had one, but he didn’t want me to learn how to shoot it.” He was probably afraid I’d take it and pop him with it. There were times I was tempted. Sometimes, I wondered if all those years I spent under his thumb made me as pitiful as I felt back then.

  “You about done here in the kitchen?” he asked suddenly.

  “I just need to take the garlic bread out.”

  Russ disappeared and returned as I removed the last component of our meal from the oven. “That looks great, Daniela.”

  He leaned a shotgun against the cabinet beside me. I stared at it.

  “What’s that for?”

  “It’s for you,” he replied.

  “I can’t cook with a gun.”

  “It ain’t for you to cook with, darlin’.”

  While the burgers and hotdogs cooled, Russ took me out to the edge of the property where he introduced me to an enormous mound of soil as high as a person was tall.

  “This is how you load it. I’m going to remove the shells and watch you do it now.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you just did, Russ.”

  So he repeated it again, slower this time, guiding me through each step down to removing the safety. Once I had four shells in the unwieldy firearm, he helped me into position with his strong hands. The same hands I felt in my dream, powerful working-man’s hands with rough finger pads toughened by a busy lifestyle.

  “Don’t lean back, darlin’. It’ll knock you on your ass. You want the stock right here in this pocket in your shoulder.” Russ was a good teacher, or maybe I just liked the way his hands felt on me. “It’s going to kick back at you, just keep that in mind and fire it when you’re ready.” He cupped his hands over my ears.

  This was crazy, but his low and encouraging voice gave me confidence. As instructed, I took a deep breath, let it out, and then squeezed the trigger. The butt of the shotgun struck me hard, an abrupt punch to my shoulder. I staggered back against him after underestimating the recoil. If not for Russ’ presence behind me, I would have landed on my butt in the dirt.

  He caught me easily, and the secure embrace of his arms around my middle turned my knees into jelly. The excitement was a head rush that weakened my legs, born from the turn-on of having a smoking-hot man behind me and firing a gun for the first time. I liked it. I liked both feelings.

  “Never saw firing a gun make a lady swoon before.”

  “Maybe it’s not the gun,” I said. I told myself it wasn’t my imagination, and that his arms really did tighten briefly around me. With his hard chest against my back, I would have happily leaned against him all evening. I tilted my head back against his shoulder and breathed in the subtle scent of his aftershave.

  “Wanna try it again?”

  “Yes!”

  I wasted another three shells into the dirt mound then Russ talked me through reloading. We went through the motions two more times before our growling bellies insisted we return to the porch.

  He seemed as reluctant to part as I felt, but he pushed the gun back into my hands when I tried to offer it to him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s yours now.”

  “Russ, I can’t take—”

  “The first rule of having any firearm is that you don’t point it at someone unless you mean to shoot it, Daniela. Remember that. Please take it. I’ll feel better knowing you have a way to protect yourself.”

  With his shotgun beside my chair, we settled at the patio table and enjoyed his entree of cheese-stuffed grilled burgers. The heat of spicy pepper jack accompanied every bite, creating a symphony of flavors. My sweet tea was the perfect compliment.

  “You told me you couldn’t cook.”

  “I don’t consider grilling to be the same as cooking, darlin’. Not really.” He gestured toward the leftover potato salad on his plate. “Now that’s cooking. I try, hence having all the groceries for it, but it’s a hot mess when I’m done. You can’t buy food like this from the store. ”

  “Yes, you can. It’s called the deli at Wal-Mart.”

  Russ shot me a look, but his good-natured amusement showed through his faux grimace. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, sure you can buy a tub of it from the store, but it’ll never taste the same as a meal made with love in your own kitchen.”

  “I’ll agree with you there.” Russ and I chatted into the evening until the threat of mosquitoes chased us inside. There, he opened a bottle of peach brandy and we talked longer about our families — or rather, my huge family and his lack of one. Trigger wriggled in beside me and laid his head in my lap the whole time we talked.

  “I’m sorry, Russ... I knew you were a widower, but I didn’t know it was so recent.”

  A hint of a sad smile touched his lips. “Two years ain’t that recent. Not really. I sold the house after that, put in for my retirement, and moved out this way for the privacy. The big home and picket fence was always what Katie wanted anyway.”

  And now he lived alone with his dog. My heart ached for the man who had served his country for two decades, only to lose the woman who mattered most to him. Life wasn’t fair, and Russ’ circumstances were a prime example of the universe’s cruelty.

  Our talk turned to happier topics after that, and he told me stories about my landlord. Apparently, he and Ian were fishing buddies who met first as neighbors while living in military housing. Later, they served together in a unique cross-branch squad that wasn’t known to the public by name.

  “So you were sort of like... what? Delta Force? Seal Team 6?” He sounded sexier and sexier by the second. I imagined him in complete combat armor, a military grade shotgun in his hands, moving in formation with a group of similarly equipped soldiers. My breath caught in my throat.

  “You could call it that. I can’t say a whole lot about it, but I can say we did a lot of good here at home and in the Middle East. I retired as a Master Sergeant, but I’m kinda still on contract. When I retired, I agreed to let them recall me as needed.”

  I didn’t even realize how late it had gotten until my phone buzzed. I silenced the call from my sister and gaped at the time.

  “Wow, it’s eight already. I should probably get going, just let me help you get everything cleaned up.”

  “You cooked it; I’ll handle the dishes.” His lazy grin made my heart speed into a gallop. Looking as good as he did in a t-shirt and jeans, lounging in an armchair, should be illegal.

  “Sorry, bud, you’re gonna have to let me up now.” Trigger whined and didn’t budge, content to remain where he was. I laughed and scratched his head. “I’ll rub your ears again next time.”

  Because I really hoped there would be a next time.

  Trigger padded off and Russ walked me out. He held the door for me like a gentleman.

  “I had fun today, Russ, thank you.”

  “I’m real glad you dropped by.”

  Maybe we had the same thing on our minds when I stood on the front porch, wringing my hands together, fretting, and doubting myself. When his lips touched mine, a jolt of electricity shot through me and a warm feeling zipped right to my core, reminding me of how long it had been since the last time I’d gotten laid. A year almost?

  No, I told myself firmly. You are not going to try to fuck this man on the first date. I set some limits in my head as we separated. In reality, the kiss hadn’t been as long as it seemed in my mind and nothing more than the corners of our mouths had touched. In fact, I was positive he’d been aiming for my cheek, but I had turned my head like an idiot.

  Once I finished mentally cursing myself, I put a sunny smile on my face and l
et the memory of his lips bolster my confidence. Just as I planned to invite him to dinner, Russ beat me to the punch.

  “I’d... like to do this again soon, Daniela. If you’d like.”

  “I would.”

  Relief flooded his features, as if he’d been afraid I’d turn him down. That idea never passed through my mind. It wasn’t just that he was sexy as all get out — he was a great guy, too. I had honestly enjoyed chatting with him all afternoon.

  Chapter Three

  ~Russ~

  The conversation and dinner with Daniela seemed to cure my wanderlust for the entire evening. By the time she left, the desire to strip out of my clothes and enjoy an evening stroll was long gone. The bear in me was equally satisfied by her company. Something about her appealed to my inner beast and soothed the animal at the core of my spirit. Had my bear recognized her as a potential mate?

  It was that attraction that had drawn me to use her rear yard as my path each night. When I saw her brand new hammock stretched between the trees, impulse drove me to climb aboard and make myself comfortable for a while. I didn’t count on passing out until past dawn, and I didn’t count on her seeing me. I certainly didn’t count on her feeding me.

  I’d taken a shine to Daniela from the very first time she offered me food while unaware of my true identity. It took a special sort of person to accept a wild animal in their backyard without any intentions of shooting it. Reappearing afterward required a battle of ethics — was it immoral to return morning after morning, knowing she’d provide me a meal, or was my animal form facilitating something we both seemed to crave?

  I was born this way. Most shifters inherited the trait from a parent, with exception to a few of our magical brethren like the loup-garou. A werewolf could infect a mortal human on the full moon, transferring a spark of the magic that allowed them to shapeshift. Most purists didn’t believe in creating new blood from lowly humans though. I’d run into a couple inbred packs in my day that would give Harry Potter’s Death Eaters a run for their money.

  While we were all uniquely different, we had a couple of similarities between our species. All shifters got the wanderlust from time to time, an irresistible urge to go back to our animal roots and roam through our native habitats. I could sate mine by taking a walk in my own backyard, but others, like my pal Taylor, weren’t so lucky. He had to drive into the country to shed his human flesh and prowl the hills in his natural mountain lion state. Ian was probably the safest among us. It took a bold bastard to shoot at our national bird. As for the rest of our old squad, their animal talents ranged from conspicuous to damned near invisible.

  I spent half of my enlistment period as a Special Forces operative in an elite group exclusive to shapeshifters. Ian was the second generation leader of the squad, following in his father’s footsteps. Together, we were unstoppable and we accomplished the impossible, handling critical government jobs from infiltration to surveillance.

  Since I was officially out of the Army, I remained on as a contracted employee. Lucky for me, they hadn’t needed me back for anything big since my retirement. It’d be a lie to say I wasn’t relieved for the break from war and battle, but I received damned good paychecks as a consultant. Between that and my Army pension, I was financially secure to enjoy life without any monetary concerns.

  After Daniela was gone, I laid in my bed imagining the pressure of her lips beneath mine. The feeling of lust for a woman had been gone for so long that its return almost struck me as foreign.

  There’d been no one since Katie, and wanting Daniela almost felt like a betrayal to my wife of sixteen years. The rational part of me also knew she wouldn’t want me to sulk at home in eternal mourning of her memory.

  To make use of my surplus meat from the grill out, I invited Daniela over again the next night. During a dinner of reheated burgers and sweet tea, we shared stories about our recent achievements. She planned to go back to school for her master’s degree, something her ex had strictly forbidden while they were married. In retrospect, I wish I’d punched him a couple more times before the coward ran away.

  “So, what do you think about coming with me to the gym this Saturday for a couple lessons with my other students?”

  “I don’t know...”

  “It’ll be fun.”

  Daniela dragged in a breath and settled back in her chair. “Me and the gym sort of have issues.”

  “What if I promise not to make you sweat much, and to buy you ice cream afterward?”

  “Frozen yogurt?”

  “Deal,” I agreed, laughing.

  Two nights later, she invited me over for chicken enchiladas and sopapillas. We lit a couple of mosquito torches and sat out back while the hummingbirds visited her deck. I wondered if her feeders and apparent love of the birds were initially what lured me to linger on her property.

  By Saturday, Daniela had improved her speed at loading and unloading the shotgun, and she was ready to begin her combat tactics lessons. My small class met two weekends a month and had several regulars who all had found their way to me for varying reasons. Some of them wanted to get fit, a few did it for shits and giggles, and then there were women like Daniela, learning to defend their lives against true danger.

  Since there were a couple of new faces, I made everyone introduce themselves at the start of the class. After they warmed up with stretches and light calisthenics — during which Daniela shot me dirty looks — I moved to the front of the class to begin the real lesson.

  “Today, we’re going to begin with palm heel strikes and shin rakes. They’re easy to do in close quarters, and it doesn’t take a lot of power to hurt someone. First, I need a volunteer.”

  To no one’s surprise, a busty blonde girl raised her hand from the front of the class. Juliette always offered, and her motivation was transparent. I sighed. Her fair hair and porcelain skin didn’t do a thing for me. I liked them dark-haired and exotic, with big brown eyes and even larger bottoms. If there wasn’t enough meat on a woman for me to squeeze with my hands, they held no interest for me.

  “Daniela? Would you come up front and give me a hand?”

  “Oh, I don’t know—”

  I grinned at her and patted the training dummy beside me. “C’mon, I promise Bob here won’t bite.”

  The gym had provided two body opponent bags when I started my class over a year ago. I donated a third to help out when my classes became popular. The stern-faced, plastisol torso gave the students a realistic visual representation of where to strike an attacker.

  “If someone gets in your space and won’t back down, a strike to their nose or throat with the heel of your palm is gonna make them rethink things quick.”

  Using Daniela as my model, I walked her and the class through the motions then paired them up into small groups.

  “Lock your elbow when you do it, Daniela. Like that. Put some power into it. The more you practice it now, the easier it’ll be if you actually have to do it.”

  As much as I’d have liked to, I didn’t stay with Daniela the entire lesson. I paired her with Blake, a high schooler who’d been bullied since coming out of the closet last year. He didn’t really need the lessons anymore, but he enjoyed helping during classes and seemed to look up to me. Even said he planned to join the ROTC when he went to college. He made a good practice partner for my gal while I moved around the room and helped everyone with their technique. Wait, when did I begin to think of her as mine?

  “Good everyone. Real good. Bring your gloves next time, y’all. I want to pair you off for sparring matches.”

  “Can I fight you again, Russ?” Blake asked.

  “Sure can. You’re faster than I am, so maybe you’ll kick my ass this time.”

  After giving them reminders to stay hydrated, I dismissed the class and started to store equipment away. Daniela helped me out until I shooed her aside to drink and rest. She’d done well in her first class. During the ride home, she quizzed me about my Army training and why I’d decided to t
each self-defense.

  “Part of it was for something to do, I guess. After twenty years of being busy, having completely idle hands made me twitchy. Besides, I like helping people.”

  “You’re good at it. I went to the gym once. Well, Mike made me go. He paid some trainer to work with me, but the lady was a real hard-core bitch who screamed a lot.” Daniela turned her gaze to the moving scenery outside. “I got discouraged and didn’t want to go back and...” She went quiet and I filled in the blanks. Her asshole of an ex probably didn’t take well to the money lost.

  I flicked the turn signal, slowed, and drifted off the interstate toward a building marked with a colorful pink and orange sign. According to the sign, Flora’s Fro-Yo had about a dozen special flavors.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” I stole a glance to the passenger seat to see Daniela’s quizzical expression and wide brown eyes staring back at me.

  “I promised you frozen yogurt, remember?”

  “You just whipped like a thousand calories off me,” she said pointedly.

  “Now I’m putting it back on you,” I replied while pulling into the parking lot.

  “You don’t think...” She paused again, huffed a breath, and simply laughed before shaking her head. “All right then. It’s your treat though.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of letting you pay.”

  I filled my paper cup to the top and encouraged Daniela to do the same. While I wasn’t looking, she tried to serve herself a tiny dieter’s portion, like I’d judge her for wanting more than a spoonful.

  “How am I gonna steal some of your flavor if there’s only one bite to take?” My friendly tease seemed to do the trick, convincing her to take a more generous helping. After filling up her bowl, we picked out toppings for each other.

  We devoured our frosty treats beneath a covered table outside, enjoying a pleasant Texas breeze. It was the perfect way to cool off after a tough workout session. I didn’t think the day could get any better, but Daniela proved me wrong with an innocent kiss to my cheek. Her cool lips left a tingling warmth on my skin long after she pulled away.