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

schools. I didn’t think their long distance relationship would hold while she attended a college three hours away. But it did endure, and had held for the past year since she’d transferred away for a better program at a larger university in San Antonio. My mother and I were positive he’d be popping the question soon. We’d then have a beautiful wedding to plan for once she graduated.
    About an hour later, Russ’ pickup rumbled by. I waited until he phoned me with an enthusiastic happy birthday before I embarked on the five minute walk to his place. He met me on the porch with a sweet kiss then invited me to his backyard.
    “Got you something today on my way home.”
    “You didn’t have to get me anything, Russ, really.” Having him was more than enough for me. Plus, agreeing to brave my family this early in our relationship felt like a gift all its own.
    “What did I say about gifts, hmm?”
    I kept the gardenia he bought for me in my bedroom window. The rich scent of the flowers made my room smell divine, an ever present memory of the man who gave them to me. While I had discovered my generous boyfriend made more money in one year than I’d earned in a decade, I still felt off sometimes about accepting gifts from him that cost more than ten dollars. He outdid himself this time.
    The gift-wrapped box opened to reveal a glossy snub-nosed revolver with an ivory grip. It gleamed like silver, and may very well have been plated with it for all I knew. “Russ, I can’t accept this.”
    The boyish grin on his handsome face melted my heart. It made his chocolate brown eyes light up. “Yes, you can. Happy birthday. Now load it up and get your sweet ass over here to test it out.”
    According to Russ, I was amazing with a shotgun. We’d practiced on and off at his home and even visited a range to shoot one of his handguns. Apparently, he wanted to reward my progress with a brand new Smith & Wesson revolver for my birthday.
    Michael had given me an apron and brand new skillet once for a birthday, then demanded to know why I didn’t get into the kitchen to make him some bacon. He didn’t appreciate the lip I gave him afterward, and once I got off the floor, I made him a great breakfast with my new gifts.
    This was different. This was a gift from the heart and one meant purely for me. Russ led me over to his firing mound where he’d already posted up a new silhouette. I’d blasted a fist-sized hole into the last one from repeated shots and developing precision. The area was all set up for me, my goggles and earmuffs waiting on the small table with a box of bullets. While he watched me, I loaded six rounds, flicked the safety, and took aim. He didn’t lurk behind me anymore these days, nor did he coach and remind me with gentle cues. Patient as ever, he leaned against a tree and pulled out his phone to text.
    Slow is smooth, I reminded myself. And smooth is fast. I used to jam my finger down on the trigger and become discouraged when the gun jumped in my hands. My bullets would fly wildly into the silhouette’s gut or shoulder, never striking the mark. This time, the bark preceded a hole in the silhouette’s face where the nose belonged. Satisfied, I fired again until the gun clicked empty then I set it down on the table and walked up to examine my work.
    “You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to.”
    “Russ—”
    He eased up behind me and curled one arm around my waist. “I did get you a backup gift just in case. I just wanted to give this one to you first—”
    “I love it, and I’ll be happy to take it home.” I twisted within his embrace and threw my arms around his neck. “It’s awesome. I love it, and I—” Love you. A strange feeling rolled through my belly and tensed my muscles. I couldn’t speak it aloud, but the realization snuck into my thoughts and stole my breath. I did. If I didn’t love him, then it was a feeling damned close to love. “I think you’re amazing.”
    “I hope