"Earth to Josh, come in," Olivia nudged him after breakfast was done and Consuelo took Bella to the city library for reading time, leaving them both alone at the dining room table. "Are you okay?"

Josh looked at Olivia, as if seeing her for the first time. God, she was beautiful. Even without makeup, she glowed and it made his stomach do somersaults looking at her.

"I was thinking, that's all." And he was. He'd been thinking how, for the first time since the shooting, he truly felt alive, like he was back to being old Josh again. No amount of therapy and talking about his fears over and over again to Dr. Ecklund ever felt this good.

"Thinking about what?"

As much as Josh wanted to tell her the truth, he couldn't. He'd also been thinking how all this was a farce and he needed to make sure it ended now, at least this thing he and Olivia had. He'd have to come clean to her about everything. From the beginning, he'd told everyone that he didn't know what was gong on, that he couldn't understand why he was being targeted for Ray's crimes. He'd declared his innocence and worse, his ignorance even though he knew exactly what was happening.

Ray hadn't worked alone.

Neither did Josh run off to Ojai to hide and recuperate. He'd gone to make sure his parents were safe. He tightened security around the inn, installed security cameras inside the main building and outside the private casitas, monitoring every public walkway. The only place he didn't install cameras in was his little casita at the bottom of the hill. He practically lived there like a hermit as it was, so there was no need to have anyone monitor his actions - his therapy, his rants, and worse, the beginnings of a drinking problem which thankfully, he'd curbed since Olivia returned. While Erik had assumed that he drank to numb the pain of his leg, his problem had began much earlier than that.

He'd been a police officer for five years, up for a promotion to the narcotics division in another precinct when his mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer a year ago. The diagnosis left them all reeling, especially Josh, who wasn't ashamed to admit that as close as he was to his father, he would do anything for his mother. But Helen was optimistic. They caught it at Stage II, she told Josh, so there was plenty of time. First, there was surgery to remove the cancerous cells and then the treatments, sometimes too aggressive but Helen wasn't taking any chances. She was going to beat this, she told Josh.

It was then that Josh knew that his days in the police department were numbered, that soon he'd resign and help his parents out in Ojai. He'd leave the beach willingly to do that, though leaving Olivia and Erik would be hard. Still, Josh knew it was simply a matter of logistics, his moving away for he wanted to be there for his parents, no matter what. He'd find a way to let Olivia know how he really felt about her. One day, maybe she'd stop seeing him as a brother.

Then Ray happened and his life went to shit.

"Josh?"

Josh cleared his throat, aware that Olivia was watching him closely. "I was thinking about all this... and you."

Memories of the night together came back to him then. Her lips, her eyes, her hair, her body. The way she moved her hips against his own, her hands gripping his shoulder and the skin behind his neck as he made love to her. Her breasts pressing against his chest, soft and full.

And then there was breakfast. He'd sat on this chair countless times before for many a breakfast or lunch, even dinner. But this time, even Consuelo knew there was something different. Something had changed–and drastically. So he had to tone down the flirting, the side glances, and the playful locking of their fingers like they were silly teenagers on a date for the first time and give the poor woman a chance to recover from what she was seeing.

"I still remember when you first brought this table into the house," Olivia was saying. "It was Mother's day, and you and Erik brought this in, and even Consuelo's husband, Ernesto, came by to help. It's so solid, Josh, this table. Like you."

"I'm glad you like it."

"You put your heart and soul into every piece you built for this house," Olivia said, squeezing his hand. "I never got to thank you enough."

Josh grinned. "You didn't throw any of it away. That's thank you enough for me."

"Oh, please, Josh, don't be so self-deprecating! You should be a woodworker. Do you know how many people have offered to buy this table, and the matching chairs–all made without power tools? Do you know many people actually want handmade furniture in this town, none of that easy-to-assemble crap," Olivia said. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to these babies. I'll shoot anyone who'll even try."

"That only works if you know how to shoot, Livvy," Josh chuckled as he got up, taking their plates to the sink.

Olivia followed him to the sink, carrying their cups and saucers as she gave him a look that said she didn't appreciate his mocking tone. "So you think I don't know how to handle a gun? Is it because I'm a woman?"

Josh shrugged. He wasn't about to touch that last question with a ten-foot pole. He'd forgotten how they'd managed to shift the conversation from woodworking to guns, but he found himself leaning toward her, wanting to know if she did know how to shoot one. Or not.

"No, it has nothing to do with you being a woman. I know enough women who know how to use a gun," Josh said, and this time he was curious. "Well, do you?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out, mister," she said, a knowing look on her face.

"No, really," Josh said, serious now. In all the years he'd known her, they never once discussed guns. He simply assumed she didn't know how to use one, and at that moment, Josh wondered how much he'd underestimated her. "Do you know how to use a gun?"

Olivia's smile vanished as he returned to the table but didn't sit down. He wanted to keep busy but couldn't. Did she really know how to shoot a gun?

"Next thing you're going to ask me is if I have one."

"I won't bust you if you did, Livvy," Josh said, noting the wariness in her voice. "But theoretically, if you did have one, what would it be?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "Theoretically?"

"Yes, theoretically." As he said this, Josh had a feeling that none of this conversation was theoretical at all. She had a gun. And if she really did, why didn't she ever tell him? Or go with him to the shooting range? Was it because he'd probably mansplain everything to her? Josh wasn't exactly certain that he would but he knew, guiltily, that there was a probability.

"Theoretically, I'd pick a Gen 4 G19," Olivia said, biting her lower lip as she waited for Josh's reaction.

"What exactly is the make of a Gen 4 G19?" Josh's eyes narrowed. Maybe there was no reason to mansplain anything to her at all, after all, especially if that particular gun, a Glock, was her choice. His thoughts were racing. Did this happen after the shooting? Because he decided to leave everything behind and live in Ojai? Did she feel she needed protection?

"Why don't you tell me?"

"I'm asking you, Livvy," he said, his voice lowering. Two could play this game, he thought. "Or maybe you don't know what it is. Probably something you read off the internet."

"A girl should always know her gun, Josh," Olivia said, her hand snaking down his thigh and up toward the bulge between his legs. "Especially when it's one she loves to play with."

Damn, she was good, Josh thought as he forced himself to think of real guns.

"And how often do you play with this... this gun?"

She licked her lips, her hand right on him now, squeezing gently, teasing him. "Not as often as I would like. But when I do get to play with it, I love its quick reset–that way there's no waiting because it's always ready whenever I am. And the grip is perfect. I love the way it responds to me, as if it were made just for me. 5.5 pounds trigger pull gives me that rush of power like nothing I've ever felt before, even before the bullet leaves the barrel."

Josh swallowed and closed his eyes. She had leaned closer and was now unzipping his jeans, freeing him. Was she still talking about a gun?

"And how does it feel when the... the bullet leaves the barrel?" He was struggling to concentrate for her hands were warm against his skin. He gripped the edge of the table he'd made for her.

"Powerful. It's like hitting a home run every time I pull the trigger." Her hands wrapped around him and Josh took in a mouthful of air. Before he knew it, she had lowered herself to her knees in front of him and he was lost. He glanced at the door. Nobody better be walking in right now or he'd shoot them dead first. But then that would be theoretical.

She tugged his jeans down from his hips, pressing her tongue along her upper lip as if she were concentrating on every move. It drove Josh crazy watching her, knowing he was powerless as she stroked him and licked the underside of his cock before taking him in her mouth. Suddenly all discussions about guns, or what he thought was about guns, were now banished temporarily from his mind though it lingered still in the corners. It was something he needed to talk with her more later, hopefully while he made sure she kept her hands to herself this time. For Josh knew she had been talking about a real gun and she knew exactly what she was saying. Just as she knew exactly what she was doing to him right now, driving him to hell and back with the way she worked her tongue, her mouth, and her fingers.

And she did all this with her eyes glued on him so he would see her face and her luminous eyes. It made the knot deep in his belly twist even tighter that when he almost tumbled off that precipice she'd led him to, he had to pull her away from him almost roughly. Josh grabbed Olivia by her upper arms and lifted her to her feet before pivoting and setting her down on the table. He swooped down to capture her mouth roughly, slipping his tongue between her teeth to taste her, explore her and take her for himself.

He pushed her robe off her shoulders, revealing creamy skin with marks still visible from their lovemaking hours earlier. He undid the ties of her robe, and as her body was revealed before him, Josh brought his hands behind her knees and lifted her legs up as she lay back down. It took a few more seconds to pull out the condom he had in his wallet, making a mental note to get a refill if this was going to keep up, and rolling it over his cock.

He kept his eyes on her as he took her then. There was no room for tenderness, not when she'd intentionally pulled that trigger that unleashed him toward her like a train barreling through the darkness of night. And Olivia wanted no tenderness this time. She reached for him, raking her fingernails against his taut belly and leaving marks across his skin. Josh hissed as sharp pain followed the trail of her nails, mingling with the pleasure that grew from the deepest center of him.

When she shattered before him, her fingers digging into the skin of his forearms as he gripped her hips, Josh followed right behind her, catching that same wave that pushed her senses to the brink and back. She screamed his name, gasping for breath as her muscles tightened around him, squeezing him till he was spent and lost even more than he already was.

Minutes later, after he caught his breath and everything around him returned back to normal, he pulled Olivia to a sitting position, kissing her softly this time. Tenderly. Then he chuckled. "So much for gun talk, eh?"

"No rough recoil," she murmured. "Easily concealed and very accessible."

Josh frowned. "I hope to god you're talking about a real gun here, Liv, because this gun isn't easily concealed, nor is it as easily accessible–not by anyone, for that matter. Only you."

She laughed. "Of course I'm talking about a gun, you adorable dork. And this," she reached for him playfully but he stepped away from her for he was still quite sensitive, "better be accessible only to me. And you and I know that it's not easily concealed. Not by a long shot."

This time, Josh held his hands up. "Alright, that's it. Enough about my particular gun. It's time to get dressed."

"What's the rush?" Olivia asked as he helped her off the table. She was still playful, still wanting more.

"I'm taking you the shooting range," he said, slipping the robe back on her shoulders. "I need to see you handle a gun. A real gun this time."

"But what about this one?" She pouted, reaching for him again. But Josh sidestepped her this time, and pulling his jeans up but not fastening them, he let her chase him up the stairs.

"As of the rest of the day, this gun is going to be concealed. Besides," he added, swatting her grabby hand away, "this one needs to reload for later."