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Date Night Ideas


February is Romance Month. What better time to show that special someone how much you care?


I’ve partnered with some author friends to share romantic and creative date night ideas from our novels! This also means you get sneak peeks from our books.


Date Idea #11: Shooting at a Gun Range


Here's an excerpt from the romcom Hero Debut in my award-winning Love Off Script Series, and yes, this is a date night I've also enjoyed with my hubby. Happy Valentine's and happy reading!


***


Book #2 in the Love Off Script Series
Book #2 in the Love Off Script Series

What have I gotten myself into?


Gemma smiles and holds out her hands for the shotgun. She’s so confident, I picture her in a SWAT uniform, leading her team into battle. It scares me a little. For her and also for me.


I choose to trust her and hold the weapon out for her, barrel pointing downrange. “It’s heavy.”


The weight doesn’t make her arms droop. She’s stronger than I’ve given her credit for, as always.


“Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” I put on my own protective equipment.


“I know.”


Oh yeah, we’ve had the trigger guard talk. “Okay. Tuck the stock against the inside of your shoulder.”


She follows my directions like a pro. I advise on how to aim while I move behind her to help her position the shotgun. I angle my feet so I can step in and—


A gun report rocks me back on my heels. My heart hammers in my chest. I look at the spray of holes in the target. Bull’s-eye. She’s done this before.


Gemma lowers the gun’s barrel and spins to flash a triumphant grin. At my close proximity, she jolts away and holds a hand to her heart. “Oh no. You wanted to help me.”

My mouth hangs open. It wasn’t that I wanted to help her . . .


Okay, I wanted to help her. “I thought you’d need help.”


“Oh, I’m so sorry. I ruined our romantic moment.”


I wouldn’t say ruined, though her talking about it definitely diminishes the spontaneity.


She reaches for my forearm as if to soothe my hurt feelings. The sizzle of her touch is anything but soothing.


“It’s like on Swiss Family Robinson when Roberta pretended not to know how to shoot so Fritz would put his arms around her. Then when Ernst showed up, she fired the weapon expertly to keep him from holding her. I didn’t mean to treat you like Ernst when you’re a Fritz.”


I didn’t follow any of that. All I remember from watching Swiss Family Robinson in elementary school was the pirates and the tiger. They made the movie cool. As for Gemma’s claim that she ruined our romantic moment? “It’s okay. You’re a good shot. I’ll have to figure out another way to put my arms around you.”


Her shoulders relax and her smile turns wistful. “That’s a great line.”


A line is about trying to reel someone in. I’ve been trying all this time to set Gemma free. “It wasn’t a line.”


Her steady gaze tells me she knows. “That’s what makes it great.”


“Yeah, well . . .” I can handle gunfire from a suspect, but I am totally out of my element here. “Did you learn to shoot for a movie you were in?”


“Writing research.”


“Of course.” What brought us together just kept us apart. “You’ll do the scene justice. If the writing thing doesn’t work out for you, I’ll offer you a job.”


Her laughter tinkles like wind chimes. “I may have the gun part down, but I need help writing another scene.”


Back to business. My relief feels strangely hollow, like disappointment. I hold my hands wide to offer her my services. “How can I help?”


She turns her back to me and lifts the shotgun to her shoulder. “I need to write a scene where the hero teaches the heroine to shoot. I need to know how the heroine feels to be in his arms. You know, so I can better write it.”


My pulse trips. She just made that up. And while I’d been about to circle my arms around her a moment ago, her invitation has given our coming embrace a whole different feel.


She looks over her shoulder at me, waiting.


With a deep breath, I step behind her, positioning my feet wide so I can lean in closer. I press my chest into her spine. Do I feel her heartbeat or mine? I gently brace the sides of her ribs to stabilize us together. Her head turns, so that our cheeks can align, and we might as well be on a deserted island with the way her coconut scent surrounds us.


Either the weapon is getting heavy in her arms, or my nearness has made her weak, because the barrel of the gun droops.


“Careful,” I say, sliding my hands up to cover hers.


I’ve held her hands before when fingerprinting her. I knew her skin was this soft. But I didn’t know it could completely distract me from our target. This position would definitely not be allowed in hunter safety classes.


I turn my head slightly so my lips are by her ear. “Is this what you need for writing your scene?”


Her head nods, but nothing else moves. She stays in my arms. For once, she’s speechless.


We breathe together, taking our time. Because the moment the gun is fired, I won’t have a reason to keep her in my arms, unless I’m brave enough to give her the real reason I want her there.


“Are you ready?” she asks.


I don’t know if she’s talking about guns this time or the more dangerous topic of relationships.


“Yes,” I say to both. In spite of the way she reminds me of my ex. In spite of the way my marriage crashed and burned.


She fires. The report echoes through the trees. Pungent gunpowder overpowers Gemma’s tropical scent. The kickback presses her closer.


I don’t even check the target to see how she did. I swing the weapon from her arms, set it on the table along with my goggles and ear protection, and walk her backward, until she’s pressed against a tree.


She rips off her own goggles and earmuffs. Her hands slide behind my back and pull me closer.


I cup her satin cheeks and press my lips hard to hers. Again and again. Enough to knock my hat to the ground.


***


Join us as we share more date night ideas to try this month. The next date night idea will be from Heather Wood. Check out her post here on February 12.



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