His Boots Under Her Bed
Buckman, California1867
Her partner reeked of booze, bad breath, and body odor, but for two bits a dance she could tolerate it.
The door swung open, and the man in the doorway made Rory's bored glance change to one of curiosity. He was well kempt compared to other strays that wandered into the Grotto, and he had to be a stranger in town to come to this dump instead of the Palace down the street, where the clientele was better heeled and the liquor wasn't watered down.
Rory watched with interest as the man crossed the room to the bar. She had learned to tell a lot about a man from the way he carried himself. This one walked tall, self-confident and relaxed, but at the same time generating an "I'm-not-looking-for-trouble-so-don't-piss-with-me" aura. She figured him for one of those tall Texans who often passed through town.
To Rory's relief the dance ended and she thanked her partner, rejected his offer again to go upstairs, and strolled to the end of the bar for a closer look at the new arrival.
The stranger was taller than the other men along the bar, and from her vantage point she saw that his profile bordered on perfection. His thick, dar ... read full excerpt from His Boots Under Her Bed ebook
