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I closed my eyes and lowered my head as the spray of water flowed down my neck and over my back, the heat of it soothing my aching shoulder. An injury that was lasting a lot longer than it should.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot!”
I frowned at the sound of a woman’s ballsy command. What the fuck? I started to turn around to see who was giving this ridiculous order, but then I felt the pressure of the cold end of whatever kind of gun she held against my back.
“I said don’t move! And put your hands in the air.”
I did as I was told and raised my hands above my head, still facing the back side of the tiled shower wall. “Can’t a guy take a shower in private around here?”
“Not when you’re trespassing.”
“What?” I glanced over my shoulder, blinking at the pretty redhead standing in my grandfather’s bathroom.
My gaze dropped to the weapon she held against my lower back. A rifle that looked a lot like the one my grandfather had used to teach me how to shoot when I was a kid. The same one he later gave to me.
I glanced at her face and locked on some amazing green eyes that also looked familiar. “Kassidy? Kassidy McQueen?”
“What of it?” she snapped back.
Lowering my hands, I began to turn toward her.
“What do you not understand about don’t move?”
I stiffened as the rifle pressed harder against my flesh. The idea of Kassidy McQueen holding the other end should have alarmed me, but come on, it was Kassy.
Was I afraid she’d shoot me? Nah. Well, maybe.
But what happened between us years ago should not have any bearing on this current situation. In fact, seeing her standing in the bathroom with me naked as a jaybird was stirring up some pretty fond memories.