The Target – Bonus Scene

Gemma

“Mom! Mom, he came! He actually came!”

Bleary-eyed I registered the excited, bouncing energy of my four-year-old son JR. His hot, stinky morning breath wafted across my face and I groaned as I peeled my eyes open. “I’m up. Baby, I’m up.”

As I wiped the sleep from my eyes, JR’s hazel stare peered up at me, hopeful and barely containing his excitement. He was nearly vibrating out of his own skin. As I looked down at him, I couldn’t help but smile. It was a good thing we’d named him Scott Dunn, Jr. He was the spitting image of his father, but early on we’d taken to calling him by the initials JR for short. 

“Where’s Daddy, bud?”

JR’s grin widened. “He’s making coffee.” He leaned closer to whisper, despite the fact we were the only two in the room. “He also sneaked me a cookie.”

My eyes widened in feigned shock. “Oh. A cookie for breakfast? That is sneaky.”

JR giggled and warm, affectionate love spread through me. I sat up in our bed, swinging my legs to the side while JR bounced wildly beside me. His silliness and infectious laughter almost made my 5am wakeup call worth it.  

Almost.

“Mom, there are millions of presents downstairs.”

I stood, stretching my arms above my head, knowing full-well Scott probably went overboard and added even more presents after I went to sleep. Despite the December chill in the air, I knew Scotty would have a fire started in the living room, so I only swiped a hair tie off my nightstand and opened my arms for JR. 

He stood on the bed and wound his little body around me. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

My hands raked through his soft, blonde hair. “Merry Christmas, my love.” 

JR’s face was buried at my chest, and my scarred arm wrapped around him. They never fazed him. In fact, they rarely fazed me anymore. A child’s love never hinges on things like scars or hair or perfection. In their innocent eyes, mothers are perfect. 

It was a gift I never knew I needed until a few nights of tempting fate without protection resulted in my pregnancy. We’d been married and had briefly talked about the possibility of children, but my hesitancy with my life on tour and past trauma with my own mother never allowed me to embrace the beautiful possibility of creating life. 

Once we found out we were expecting JR, Scott admitted to me he’d secretly hoped we would have a family sooner rather than later and was overjoyed with the prospect of being a father. 

Little did he know, I had a secret of my own. My hand swept over my lower belly, sending love and tenderness to the baby growing there. I couldn’t wait to tell them both today.

“All right, kiddo. Let’s check out these millions of presents.”

Like a shot, JR bounded out my bedroom door and down the stairs.

I followed him down and the scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted me at the bottom of the stairs, along with a bare-chested Scott with a devilish look in his eye. If he wasn’t careful with that look, we’d end up with a lot more babies than he’d bargained for.

“Mrs. Dunn.” 

* * *

After a long day celebrating Christmas at Redemption Ranch, we were all beat. I glanced into the backseat and, sure enough, JR was lightly snoring with his head tilted at a wildly uncomfortable angle. 

“It was the perfect day.” Scott lifted our twinged fingers and brushed a kiss along my knuckles.

I smiled at him and looked out into the inky black night as we made the short drive to our home. 

Despite the tours, the long stretches of time on the road, this was home. Tipp, Montana, a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, was the center of my universe. Halfway between Tipp and Chikalu Falls, the location was the best of both worlds.

Scott pulled his truck into our driveway. I often missed my beat up old piece of shit truck. When it had finally given out, I didn’t have the heart to sell it, so instead, Scotty had a new engine put in and the truck is still living its best life on Redemption Ranch. Whenever I extend my visit, I climb inside and drive around, remembering all the memories piled inside its dusty cab. 

I walked up our front porch steps as JR hung limply in Scott’s arms. As he walked past, I placed my hand on his shoulder and whispered. “Why don’t you get him to bed and come back downstairs. Let’s have a nightcap before we head to bed.”

Scott leaned toward me, placing a kiss on my cheek. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Heat blazed in my eyes as his smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. 

As Scott tucked JR into bed, I busied myself with fixing two hot cocoas, only one with a shot of Irish liqueur, and a healthy swirl of whipped cream on top. When I heard Scott’s footfalls on the stairs, a zippy shot of adrenaline coursed through me. I couldn’t wait to tell him.

Best. Present. Ever. Top that, hotshot.

For years now, Scott and I had tried to one-up each other with “the perfect gift.” Much to my annoyance, usually, he won.

“Mmm. Smells good. Cocoa?”

I handed him a mug and tried to contain the fit of giggles I could feel rising in my belly. “Yep.”

Scott sniffed his mug and took a tentative sip. “Spiked.” He smiled and sipped again. “It’s delicious.”

 I leaned against the expansive marble of our kitchen island and watched him as he took another clueless sip. “Only yours is spiked,” I said with a shrug. “You know, because of the baby.” 

 I did my best to look innocent as I sipped my own cocoa. A choking snort escaped his throat and the puff of air sent whipped cream flying off the top of his mug. He set his cocoa down with a snap. 

 “The what? Are you––? Are we––?” The words tumbled out of his mouth. His thoughts tripped over one another as he took a step forward and crowded my space. 

 I finally let my laughter free. “Yes!” 

 Scott scooped me in his arms with a delighted laugh. The rumble in his chest vibrated against mine as he held me. 

 “I knew your boobs looked bigger today.” 

 A barking laugh escaped me as I swatted at his arm. “You are unbelievable!” 

 Scott set me on my toes and lowered his mouth to mine. “No. You are unbelievable, Mrs. Dunn.” His mouth on mine was warm and sweet. Hints of cocoa mingled with his masculine scent. Warmth pooled in my limbs as I went pliant in his arms. 

Every swipe of his tongue sent sparks simmering down my arms. When his mouth moved down to nip at my jawline, a switch flipped. 

I planted my hands at his chest to give myself some distance. I tipped one eyebrow at him. “So you agree I won this year? Best present of the year?”

His knowing eyes smoldered. “Yes, ma’am.” His hands spread open at his sides. “How may I be of service?”

 The thrill, as it always did when Scott relinquished control, and I eagerly gathered the reins, raced through me. I perched myself on the edge of the kitchen island, leaning back and capturing his hips between my feet. 

 I dragged him forward. One step. Then two. I already knew the answer before I even asked the question, but after all these years, I still loved to hear it. “Anything I want?” 

 Scott’s eager, devilish grin sparked with an intensity that told me it would only be a matter of moments before we both surrendered control. I had loved that man since I was nineteen years old, and the years in between only added to the deep and comforting love we shared. In each other, we’d found ourselves.

 The deep rumble of his voice skated across my skin. “Whatever you ask, Mrs. Dunn, I’ll do it.”

 When he closed the gap between us, I was lost to him.