36

Sweet Love - Myles Smith

I t's been a couple of days, and things have lightened up a bit. I'm walking with a bit of a spring in my step, though I try not to make it too obvious, or the boys might have a field day.

This week at work has been easy—not many tough gigs, just the usual public disturbances and a bit more vandalism around town. I even did a couple of shifts on highway patrol, catching more than a few reckless teenagers speeding along the A16 and the joining highways.

Amelia has come by a few times to see Liv, and I couldn't help but pull her aside when no one was watching to kiss her. I've been missing her mouth since that night. Any chance I get when she's over, I take it. This whole sneaking around makes it all worthwhile. It's the most excitement I've had around here in a while. Amelia's asked more than once if we could take things further, but I don't want to rush into it. Just because she's had her first taste of anything sexual doesn't mean we should jump straight into having sex. It's a big thing, and I want it to be special for her. She rolls her eyes every time, completely disagreeing, but deep down, I know she gets it .

I want to make sure everything feels right for her. Amelia deserves the best, and I have every intention of giving her that. It's two forty-eight in the afternoon when Reynolds strolls over to my desk.

"Mitchell, you free this Friday night?" he asks, his tone casual but his eyes keen. I glance up, curiosity piqued.

"Depends. Why?"

"Well, Rose and I were thinking about grabbing dinner and were wondering if…" he lowers his voice, "you and your... missus wanted to join us?"

I raise an eyebrow, looking around to make sure no one else is listening. Ever since my mood picked up, Reynolds, with his usual observant self, has been pestering me about it. He had a ‘gut feeling' it had to do with a woman. I reluctantly told him about seeing Amelia, and he'd sworn to keep it to himself. So, I'm not surprised he's asking now. His use of the word ‘missus' sets off a flurry of conflicting emotions in my mind. That territorial voice in my head screams, mine, mine, mine.

"I'll, uh, let you know."

"Mhm. Don't keep me waiting, Mitchell," he replies with a smirk.

I flip him the finger, and he walks away, laughing to himself. I clock off at exactly three oh five and a thought springs to mind. Faulkner's been on us about keeping our skills sharp, so I decide to head to the shooting range. I pack up my things and call out to the guys, "Laters."

On my way, I stop by Madison's Diner to pick up a few sweets, just because. Then I head to my next stop before the shooting range, hoping to catch her just before she leaves.

With any luck, I'll see that smile that's been stuck in my mind since the other night.

I pull up outside Koala Creek Primary School, right near the staff car park. It's open, by the way. Not very safe at all. I spot her small Barina and park beside it. Hoping she doesn't get called to stay back, I mentally cross my fingers, praying she's available right now.

As if answering my prayers, I spot her in the distance, wearing blue flared jeans and a fluffy white knit top. My heart skips a beat. I wonder if she'll notice it's my car parked next to hers. She looks around, and when she sees me, a wide smile spreads across her face. She breaks into a run, and I open my arms just in time to catch her.

She hugs me tightly, and I lift her in the air, a shit-eating grin on my face.

I inhale her scent, that familiar mix of cherry blossom and something floral filling my senses, and I sigh contentedly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd surprise you," I reply, holding up the bag from Madison's Diner. "Brought some pastries. Figured you might need a pick-me-up."

She gives me a funny look. "What?"

"Who are you, and what have you done with grumpy Brad?" she says, looking around cautiously. I chuckle, shushing her, my tone serious.

"Can't have anyone finding out." I wink at her, and she scrunches up her adorable face shyly. "Come on, I want to take you somewhere," I say, pulling her to my car.

"Now? Where?" Her face lights up. "But I'm in my work clothes," she says, pointing to her outfit.

"You look fine, Mills."

She quickly puts her stuff into her car, locks it, and hops into my ute. "You guys should really have an automated gate to this carpark, you know," I say with all seriousness.

"That was so police officer of you," she giggles.

"Well, I'm just stating facts. It's not safe. Anyone can just park up here and waltz onto the school grounds."

"They close the metal gate during the day and open it in the mornings and afternoons," she states. While personally, I'm not satisfied with that answer, I let it go for now.

We drive for about twenty minutes, heading out of town toward the shooting range. The place closes around five, so I don't plan on her being here for too long. I just had a strong urge to bring her here.

It's not the most romantic spot, I guess, but it's meaningful to me.

From a young age, my father had taught my brother and me how to shoot, and when Liv got older, Xav and I taught her, too. Probably not ideal, but it was our norm. Her face is marred with confusion as she looks around.

"Shooting range? What are we doing here?"

"My boss makes us come here every so often to sharpen up our skills, so I decided to come by this arvo and thought I'd bring you along with me. You know, to show you... what I do?" I say, scratching the back of my neck.

She looks at me, a mix of curiosity and excitement in her eyes. "Okay, sounds cool."

I smile. "Okay. Let's get inside before they close up."

We make our way inside, the familiar smell of gunpowder and metal hitting my senses. I spot Mark, the owner, behind the counter, and I give him a nod. "Hey, Mark."

"Bradley, good to see you back," Mark says, a smile spreading across his face.

"Thanks. I brought a friend along. She's just going to watch for a little while," I explain, glancing at Amelia. Friend just sounds so out of sorts. I guess we're a thing now, but what does that entail?

Mark looks at her, then back at me, his smile widening. "She's more than welcome to give it a go if she wants. I trust you, Bradley."

Amelia's eyes widen. "Really? I've never done anything like this before."

"No pressure," I say, squeezing her hand. "You can just watch if you're not comfortable."

"It's a safe environment here. Bradley knows what he's doing, and I'll be here to help, too," Mark says.

Amelia nods, her curiosity clearly piqued. "Alright, I'll give it a shot—no pun intended. "

We all chuckle, and a surge of pride runs through me. This might not be the most conventional date, but it's something special to me, and sharing it with Amelia feels right. We walk over to the range, and I pick up my pistol, placing it on the tray in front of me. Grabbing two sets of earmuffs, I put one on my head and then gently place the other on Amelia. Next, I hand her a pair of protective glasses and put mine on as well. I get myself sorted, checking my glock, making sure everything is in order.

"I'm just going to warm up," I say, giving a thumbs up to Mark behind the counter. A board appears with a round target about twenty-five metres away.

I take a moment to focus, feeling the weight of the gun in my hand. I glance at Amelia and warn, "It's going to get very loud."

She nods, giving me a thumbs up, her eyes wide and filled with awe.

I position myself, holding up the gun, my grip firm but relaxed. Turning my head slightly to the side, I focus my eye through the iron sights. I take a deep breath, steadying my aim. The first shot rings out, a loud crack echoing through the range. The bullet hits the target around the middle, somewhere in the eight ring. It's not always about hitting the ten ring; it's about the grouping. Keeping the bullets within the same area is what matters.

That's what I was taught. I pride myself on the consistency of my shots, a skill honed over the years, with both training at the academy and lessons from my father. I know I can confidently shoot and hold my aim. But I also know that under dire circumstances, this can change.

At the academy, we're drilled on never pulling out our gun unless it's a life-or-death situation. Our tasers are for stopping someone, preventing things escalating further. We only draw our guns if we or others are in immediate danger. Each shot I take sends a powerful jolt up my arm, the recoil controlled and expected. My breathing is steady, my heartbeat a steady drum in my ears. Each shot hammers into the target, the paper puncturing and tearing with every hit.

The satisfaction of accuracy, the control, the power—it all feels incredible.

Once I've fired my round of fifteen, smoke trails from the small barrel. I flick the safety on and place the gun flat on the counter. Removing my earmuffs and glasses, I turn to find Amelia staring at me, open-mouthed. I shoot her a confused look.

"What?"

"I'm not going to lie to you... that was sooo hot," she says, fanning her face. I can't help but chuckle, a full-on hearty laugh. When I finish, she's smiling from ear to ear, a blush staining her round cheeks.

"I'm being serious," she says, clearing her throat, and my smile drops before turning into a smirk.

"Yeah?" I say, moving closer, tilting her chin up to face me. "You know, you can't be saying these things to me in public, Mills."

"Why not?" she counters.

Hm, she's feeling frisky now, huh? I make a humming noise, deep in my chest. "Hm. Don't tempt me, sunshine." I press my hardening cock into her stomach so she can feel what she does to me. She gasps, her breathing quickening. "That's why."

I step away, needing to regain composure before I throw her over my shoulder, take her back to my car, and fuck her senseless. But nevertheless, I digress.

I shoot her a wink before readjusting myself and clearing my throat. "Alright, you're up."

Amelia

"Uh... there is no way I can do what you just did."

He laughs. "I'm not asking you to. I'll just teach you a few things."

Am I really about to do this? The most uncoordinated person, attempting to shoot a gun. Yeah, this is gonna be fun. I nod slowly, walking over to where he's standing at the range. "Okay, show me."

He places his muffs back on before guiding me through the basics, explaining each step carefully. I watch as he reloads the gun, his muscular, veiny hands pushing the slide back with practised ease. Holy crap, that's hot. I could have literally moaned out loud.

If I could, I'd put that moment on replay. I'm just watching him like a dog in heat, panting for him. I clear my throat, trying to focus, before moving to stand in front of him.

"First, grip the gun firmly, but don't squeeze too tight. It's all about control and balance. Now, stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, one foot slightly forward. "

I follow his instructions, my hands trembling slightly. He places his hands over mine, his touch warm and steady, helping me hold the gun properly.

"Alright, now line up the sights with the target. Take a deep breath, and when you're ready, squeeze the trigger gently. Don't jerk it."

I take a deep breath, focusing intently. He presses up against my back, his body solid and reassuring. The way he's gripping my hands to move them into position sends shivers down my spine. He gently grabs my hips, turning me slightly to get my stance just right. His cologne wafts in the air, overpowering the smell of gunpowder and metal, enveloping me in his scent. My body tenses up, and I turn to look back at him.

"I'm scared!"

He looks at me, his eyes softening. "Okay, we don't have to do this, Mills. Whatever you want. It's your call." I'm scared but also curious . I want to give it a go. I want to make him proud.

I take a deep breath. "No, wait. It's okay. I can do this."

He nods at me, his encouragement steadying my nerves. "Alright, keep your grip firm, but relaxed. Focus on your breathing. When you exhale, that's when you squeeze the trigger. Just a gentle squeeze."

I line up the sights again, taking another deep breath. I exhale slowly, and when I feel ready, I squeeze the trigger. The gun fires, my body jerking slightly from the recoil.

Holy shit! I just shot my first gun!

"Fuck. Good job!" His voice is full of pride. "Not bad for a beginner. "

I look at him, a mix of relief and excitement flooding through me. His praise makes me feel warm inside, and I can't help but smile back at him.

"Really? That was... intense."

He chuckles softly. "You did great, Mills. I'm proud of you."

"Can I try again?"

"Of course," he replies, stepping back slightly, but still close enough that I can feel his presence. "Take your time and remember what I showed you."

After a few more rounds each—yes, rounds, plural—we pack up and head back out. Bradley thanks Mark again, and I do, too. We walk to the car, the cool evening air brushing against my skin.

As we reach the car, he suddenly grabs me by the belt loop of my jeans and pulls me backward, spinning me around.

"Wha—" I start to say, but I don't get to finish because his mouth is on mine in a hurry, his lips moulding to mine like they fit perfectly, as if they belong there.

Maybe they do.

The kiss is intense, filled with a mix of urgency and tenderness that sends my heart racing. His hands find my waist, pulling me closer, as I lift up on my toes to wrap my arms around his neck, losing myself in the moment. His scent, his taste, the feel of his strong hands against me—it's overwhelming and exhilarating.

I can't help but melt into him, responding to his kiss with a hunger of my own. His hands skate down to cup my ass, lifting me even further on my tiptoes, pressing me tightly to his rock-hard body. A groan escapes my lips, and he does the same.

Every part of me is on fire, our bodies perfectly aligned, and I can't get enough of him. The world around us fades away, leaving just the two of us in this intense, passionate moment.

When we finally pull apart, we're both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other.

"Wow," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"Yeah," he murmurs back, his eyes locked on mine. "By the way," he says, breaking the silence, "my colleague from work asked if you and I wanted to join him and his wife for dinner tomorrow."

I turn to him, curiosity piqued. "Like, as in, a date? "

He scoffs, a playful smirk on his face. "Yeah. What else would it be?"

"But, aren't double dates what you would usually take a girlfriend on? You know, with other people?" I ask, the words slipping out before I can really think about them. And now they have me thinking. The thought of officially being his girlfriend sends a thrill through me. But what does he think? Am I just over analysing everything?

"Technically, double dates can be for anything. But in this case, yes. "

I frown, trying to read more into what he's saying. "So, you said yes. To a double date?" He nods, his expression serious.

"With your… girlfriend?" Is he saying what I think he's saying?

"It would appear so."

I point to myself and then back to him, my eyes widening as a smile breaks out on my face. Heat rushes up my spine, straight to my cheeks.

"So, does my girlfriend say yes? Or will I have to cancel on him?"

Holy crap! He's asking me to be his girlfriend. Is this even real life? Am I dreaming? I realise I've been stuck in my head for too long, so I blurt out, "Uh, y-yes! Yes."

"Fucking finally, woman," he growls before kissing me senseless again. This time, it's filled with a sense of finality and beginning all at once. His lips move against mine with a hunger that makes my knees weak. Wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, I get lost in the moment. Funny thing is, I've been falling for him long before all this started picking up.

Like, ten years long. It's crazy, right?

But deep down, I know that ‘like' has morphed into something more. A decade of waiting, and finally, here we are. Sure, he hasn't taken my virginity yet, and neither of us has said those three little words. But this?

This is a start.

The kitchen is filled with the clinking of dishes and the soft hum of the dishwasher as Mum and I finish washing up from dinner. Occasionally, I glance into the living room, where Bradley and Dad are deep in conversation. It warms my heart to see them getting along so well, but it also sends a nervous flutter through my chest.

Earlier this afternoon, after we wrapped up our time at the shooting range, Dad texted me to invite Bradley over for dinner.

For this to come from my dad, who for years had been so strict about not letting anyone in our house unless he trusted them completely, was huge. I couldn't help but laugh at his spelling, though. A few years ago, Kat and I got Dad a new iPhone, and he just loves to text—but his grammar? Not too good. His unexpected eagerness only added to my nerves.

Mum looks up from the sink, her curiosity piqued. "So, what did you two get up to this afternoon?"

I glance at Bradley, who catches my eye and gives me a reassuring smile. "He took me to the shooting range," I say, trying to sound casual. "Taught me how to handle a gun."

Mum's eyes widen with surprise, and a smile tugs at her lips. "Really? That's quite something. Your father did the same with me when we were younger. It brings back such fond memories."

I feel my cheeks warm at her words. "Oh, really? I didn't know that."

Mum's eyes twinkle. "Yes, he took me out huntin' all the time, too. It was our special time together. Our little camping trips. I remember feeling so proud and a bit intimidated, but he was always so patient."

"That sounds really nice, Mum."

She places a hand on my shoulder, her expression softening. "You know, love, you seem more… alive when he's around. Like you're shining a bit brighter."

I shift, feeling a mix of embarrassment and happiness. "Oh, stop it. Kat's not here, so you don't need to be saying these things. She's the one who usually says stuff like this. She has no filter."

Mum chuckles softly. "No, I'm being serious, Meli. I've always liked him—comes from a good family."

I let out a sigh. "I feel… I don't know, Mum. Is it wrong to be hanging around him, you know, without Liv? It's just… he's really special."

She looks at me with understanding, her gaze gentle but firm. "Oh, I can see that. But look, it's not my place to get involved. I just want you to be happy. If that man in there is the one to bring that happiness, then I see nothing wrong with it. But when the time presents itself, you need to be honest."

I nod, a lump forming in my throat. "I understand. "

Mum continues, her voice steady. "Just don't sweep it under the rug. Liv's a great girl. Hell, she's your best friend. I'm sure she'd understand, especially when she sees what we're all seeing now."

I take a deep breath, absorbing her words. "Thanks, Mum. I really appreciate your support."

Mum's gaze softens further, and she squeezes my shoulder. "Come on, let's not keep them waiting. Help me bring out the coffee."

I grab a glass and fill it with cold water. "Bradley's not a coffee drinker, Mum," I explain, giving her a small smile. We walk back into the lounge, balancing the drinks carefully. The TV is on, the Nine News playing in the background. Dad is settled in his recliner chair, looking relaxed, while Bradley sits on the two-seater with one foot over his knee, looking so effortlessly attractive.

I hand Dad his coffee and pass the glass of water to Bradley, who mouths a "thank you" to me. I smile back, feeling a flutter in my chest.

"Heard you went shooting today?" Dad says, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Uh, yep. Bradley taught me," I reply.

Dad grins. "Heard you also kept hitting the eight rings. Not bad for a first-timer," he says with a wink.

Bradley's eyes twinkle with pride. "That's what I said. I think she's a natural."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Yeah, I don't think I'll be doing that again. As fun as it was, that's a one-time kinda thing for me. "

Bradley smirks at me, his eyes softening.

"Ah well, that's a shame," Dad chimes in, placing his glasses on his head. "You know, it reminds me of when your mum and I used to go on our camping trips. I used to take her out in the bush, just the two of us. Taught her how to shoot. Those were some good times."

I smile, remembering Mum's earlier words. She smiles back at me, a glint of nostalgia in her eyes. Bradley's face brightens at the mention of hunting. "I'd love to hear more about that. I've done a bit of hunting myself, with my dad and brother, but I've always wanted to try it in different terrains."

"You know, years ago, your dad and I went hunting together," my dad says, shocking me.

"Oh, really?" Bradley leans forward.

"Yeah. We used to be a part of the same gun club," Dad says, his voice warm with memories.

Bradley looks to me for some form of confirmation, and I just shrug, giving him a sheepish smile. This is news to me, just as it is to him. My mind races, piecing together this new information about Dad's past that I never knew. It's strange, realising there's so much more to learn about the people you think you know best.

Dad's eyes gleam with enthusiasm. "How about this? If you're up for it, maybe one day we could plan a hunting trip together. I think we'd have a great time."

Bradley's expression is earnest. "I'd be honoured, sir."

Dad claps Bradley on the shoulder, his smile broad. "Great. It's settled then. I'll hold you to that. "

I glance at Mum, who winks at me, her look saying more than words could. A warmth spreads through my chest, seeing Dad's genuine smile as he claps Bradley on the shoulder. The easy bond forming between them is a surprise, one I hadn't anticipated. It's as if the universe is aligning in our favour, making our secret relationship even more precious. The anticipation of our journey together stirs inside me, mingling with a quiet joy.

Bradley catches my eye and smiles, and I can't help but beam back at him. This moment, this connection—it's everything I hadn't realised I wanted.