The Navy SEAL's Christmas Bride

“I did okay.”

 

 

Okay, his ass. She was trying to hide the fact she was a crack shot. He was a crack shot himself, but it looked like she might give him some real competition.

 

When everyone had gathered their targets, put up new ones and were back behind the line, Mason called out, “This is the real deal, folks. Five shots! Tightest grouping wins. Ready? Range open!”

 

Dan fitted his cartridges back into his rifle, drew up to the line and sighted down the barrel. Five shots. He could do this.

 

The rat-a-tat of gunfire cracked down the line. Dan knew he could lose to Mason or Zane just as easily as to Sarah—more easily, probably. After all, Mason was a SEAL and Zane was a Marine. Sarah was just regular Army.

 

Worry made him check his sightings twice, though, and that extra work messed with his aim. His grouping was decent, but not as tight as he’d like. When he was done, he slid a glance over to Sarah and found her rigid. Rigid in a good way or a bad?

 

He checked her target.

 

Damn it, she was quivering because she must be holding back the urge to whoop out loud. And well she might. Even from here he could tell she’d won. Murmurs from Mason and Zane and the others told him he wasn’t the only one who’d seen it.

 

“Wow!” Regan’s voice cut over the din. “Sarah—that’s amazing!” She moved forward, rifle still in her hands. Sarah and Mason both grabbed for her simultaneously.

 

“Babe—the range is still hot!” Mason shifted her gently behind the line.

 

“Shoot. Sorry! I always get that wrong,” Regan said, hurrying back in place.

 

Dan exchanged a look with Mason. That was one thing you didn’t want your wife getting wrong. At least with Sarah he knew she’d be safe around weaponry.

 

Dan checked himself. He wasn’t going to be with Sarah—not like that. But when he thought of them going their separate ways after this holiday, his jaw tightened.

 

“Cease fire! Range closed!” Mason shouted. Dan went through the motions of making his firearm safe again. By the time he joined the crowd around Sarah’s target, he knew from the exclamations he heard that he’d definitely been beat.

 

“Three times around the Hall in the buff, sailor!” The look Sarah turned on him was almost gleeful as the others’ laughter surrounded him.

 

Well, he guessed he deserved that for the way he’d gloated over her earlier. But he’d get his revenge. He’d definitely get his sweet revenge.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

 

?

 

 

“I can’t believe how good a shot you are!” Regan said to Sarah as she and the rest of the women lined up on the porch to watch Dan’s naked laps around the Hall.

 

“I can’t believe you’re going to ogle another man when you’ve got this to look forward to tonight!” Mason called from the doorway where the rest of the men had gathered.

 

“I won’t look—much,” Regan said. “It’s your fault for inviting the streaker to stay with us.”

 

“It’s Sarah’s fault for winning that damned bet,” Austin said. “Ella, get inside!”

 

“I’m just here in solidarity with Sarah,” Ella said with a wink.

 

“You better not ogle him!”

 

“If Dan’s the only one naked, then he’s my only choice for ogling!”

 

“The hell you say.” Austin burst out of the house and unbuttoned his shirt as he clattered down the front steps.

 

“What are you doing?” Ella leaned over the railing.

 

“Running with Dan so you’ll keep your eyes where they’re meant to be—on me!”

 

Ella laughed. “If you run naked around the Hall, I will definitely ogle you, honey!”

 

“Well, hell,” Mason said. “I guess that means I better join them.” He raced down the steps, too, followed by John and Rafe.

 

Regan put two fingers in her mouth and let out a wolf whistle that brought everyone to a halt. “Bet you didn’t even know I could do that,” she said to Mason.

 

“I didn’t. That’ll come handy when it’s time to move the cattle.”

 

Sarah laughed along with the others, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of Dan as he stripped off his shirt and got to work on his jeans. She’d known he’d be built under his winter gear, but the muscles carving his bare chest were breathtaking, as were the bulges that formed his biceps. No amount of training would give her biceps like that—not even with steroids, which she would never touch. She was an athlete—she could hold her head up high in any company—but she couldn’t compete with him that way.

 

And she didn’t want to at the moment. She just wanted to watch him. Avidly.

 

The other men were buff, too, of course, but she wasn’t going to stare at her friend’s husbands.

 

“Naked racing around the Hall. That’s a new holiday tradition,” Ella mused.

 

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