by Sable Hunter
“Cassie!”
Felicity’s voice carried over the chaos, causing her to turn and aim her chair toward the back of the bar. “There you are!”
“Hey, girlfriend.” All of her friends came over to hug her. “Here’s your drink.” Cordelia pushed the frosted lemonade toward her. “I don’t think your chair will slide under the table.” A look of disappointment caused the birthday girl to frown.
“No problem.” Cassie waved her hand in dismissal. “I can manage to get in the chair.” She angled herself as close as possible. “Just hold me steady.” They did and Cassie stood up, swaying and grimacing. It hurt like heck. But she made the one step necessary to get in the seat.
“Are you all right?” Felicity asked with concern.
“Oh, yeah.” Cassie tried to get a grip on herself. Each time she stood, the pain was a little more intense. And that scared Cassie to death. The little bit of exercise she was able to take was so important to her. It kept the muscles in her legs from atrophying. If she could get on the ground, flat of her back, she could do some exercises. It was putting her weight down on her feet that was the worst. Wiping a little bit of sweat from her forehead, she forced a smile. “I’m okay now. Let’s have a drink!” She took the lemonade and sipped, forcing herself to take deep breaths while the pain subsided.
“Have you seen that guy on the dance floor? The one with Jane Peters?” Donna hung on Cordelia, already three sheets to the wind. Several cowboys pulled up chairs at the table. Cassie’s friends were hot. She was lucky to have them, although she didn’t spend much time with them anymore. Most of them she knew from classes at the community college. When she graduated, they drifted apart. Occasionally they would include her in their festivities. Felicity she saw more than the others because she worked for her part time, doing all of the printing for the labels and maintaining Cassie’s website. Mostly they just spoke on the phone or email, but it was human contact and for that she was grateful. For the most part, Cassie was alone.
She would always be alone.
Pushing those depressing thoughts aside, she let her eyes search out the man they were referring to. “He’s cute,” Cassie admitted. Not her type, but she wasn’t drawn to the pretty boys. When Cassie fantasized, she always conjured up the bad boy. Tall, dark and handsome as sin.
“Well, you look cute tonight.” Felicity patted Cassie on the shoulder. “That dress is hot.”
It wasn’t. “Thanks.” Cassie dressed for comfort, she had to. Pants were not something she could wiggle into, so she was forced to wear simple dresses she could just slip over her head.
“Wanna dance?” A guy came up to Felicity and tipped his hat. She hesitated, looking at Cassie.
“Go, have fun,” she assured her friend. “I’ll have a good time listening to the music.”
“Are you sure?” Felicity was nice, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “If I see a hot guy, I’ll send him your way,” she offered with a grin.
“Don’t you dare.” Cassie shook a finger at her. “I can get my own man.” Not true, but it was her story and she was sticking to it. Besides, she didn’t need a babysitter and that would be all it would amount to if a guy did show pity on her.
Taking a deep breath, Cassie watched her friends all make their way to the dance floor. The music was good and she couldn’t be still. Her legs might not work, but there was nothing wrong with the rest of her.
* * *
Bowie Travis Malone was tired. The bar was crowded. Anytime he came off a job, it was normal for him to unwind here at Arkey’s. But if he’d had his way tonight, Bowie would have stayed at home. For some reason he couldn’t get the image of that escaped convict out of his mind. His body was bloated and covered in snake bites, and he’d had the most horrified expression frozen on his face. Bowie had seen some rough things in his time, but watching those rattlers crawl all over that dead guy would haunt him for many days to come.
When he eased up to the bar and ordered a beer, Bowie surveyed the room. Some of the regulars he recognized, but most of the folks were strangers. Several women caught his eye, but none made enough of an impact to pull him off the stool. Tanner hadn’t made it yet. They’d agreed to come to Arkey Blue’s to meet up with two men his friend felt he had a lot in common with. Bowie was about ready to give Tanner a call to see where he was and if he’d changed his mind—and then he saw her.
A woman with the face of an angel and the longest, most luxurious mane of golden blonde hair he’d ever laid eyes on was sitting by herself at a table across the room.
Bowie’s first instinct was to head over there, introduce himself, pull her into his arms and hold her tight. If there was music to dance to, that would be a plus. If there wasn’t, it didn’t matter. Dancing would be secondary to touch.
As he watched her, surreptitiously, of course, Bowie noticed she was alone. Oh, there were other people at her table, girls going back and forth to take sips of drinks, then returning to the dance floor led by cowboys with too many hands and not much rhythm. But for all the coming and going, Angel Face remained seated. She took a few sips of a mixed drink and watched the others have a good time.
Bowie could tell she was dying to dance. Her body moved slightly and she seemed to be singing the words of the songs occasionally. What killed him was that no one approached her, no one asked her to dance, no one even bothered to sit long enough to make conversation with her. Was the whole fuckin’ world blind and dumb? He delayed a few more minutes, planning his strategy. Bowie wanted to make sure there wasn’t a drugstore cowboy boyfriend dilly-dallying outside when he should be in here treating a lady the way she deserved to be treated.
He waited and no one came.
Yea, he was getting angry. Angel Face shouldn’t be all alone and ignored. That doll was no wallflower. She should be in somebody’s arms, enjoying the music and made to feel cherished and appreciated.
And he was just the man for the job.
Pushing off the stool, he drained his beer and began making his way to the long table in the corner. Every step he took seemed inevitable. He could feel the connection to the beautiful woman from here. It was like there was an invisible thread tethering them together. Bowie could feel the draw. If he believed in such things, he’d say they had known one another before. Or their meeting was preordained, meant to be.
Even though Bowie didn’t believe in fate, he still couldn’t deny the attraction, the fascination—hell, the downright need to walk up to her, offer her his hand and claim her. He’d start with claiming her for a dance, then he’d move on from there.
“Need a refill, miss?” Cassie glanced up to see the waitress standing there, waiting with a look of pity on her face. There—that’s what she didn’t like, people feeling sorry for her.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.” She touched her glass of lemonade. “I’m a slow drinker.”
“Suit yourself.” With one last look of sympathy, she sauntered away. Cassie watched her go, realizing that most people didn’t appreciate the blessing of moving around on two strong legs.
And that was when she saw him.
Her breath hitched. Her nipples hardened. She blushed. Oh, my goodness. He was looking straight at her. Cassie smiled, and then quickly looked away. “Please don’t let him come over here. Don’t let him come over here.” She chanted a little prayer.
Even though she was now studying the graffiti which had been carved on the surface of the table—For a Good Time Call Misty—she could feel him moving closer. After only one glance at him, she had memorized every feature. He was big and strong. His skin was golden, kissed by the sun. Hair the color of a raven’s wing hung to his shoulders. All he needed was a breechcloth and a bow and arrow and he could grace the cover of any best-selling romance novel of the old west. The man coming uncomfortably close was the sexiest man Cassie had ever seen. If only she could look at him some more, but looking would lead to wanting and wanting led nowhere.
She held her breath, hoping against hope he wo
uld pass her by. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d move on. He had to be a late-comer. Most everyone here had witnessed her entrance which was a sure-fire guarantee to extinguish any interest a man might have in her. She was destined to shrivel up like a dried flower, never touched by human hands.
Time slowed down to a crawl. But she knew exactly where he was in the room, even without looking. As he kept drawing closer, she could even distinguish his footfalls, his boots making a tattoo sound on the floor. Unbidden, she looked up. His smile made her forget her own name.
“Could I join you, beautiful?”
His voice was deep and strong, yet contained a gentle quality that made chill bumps rise all over Cassie’s body. She drew in on herself, attempting to be smaller. Did he know any of the other girls in their group? She looked around to see if any of them were headed this way. Surely he had to know Felicity or one of the others. But there was no one paying them any mind.
They were alone.
Cassie got lost in his eyes for a second. He was staring at her. “Oh, yes, please do,” she finally answered, courtesy demanding nothing less. “At your own risk, of course.” She tried to tease, which was her way, mostly to hide the fact she was shaking.
“You look like you’re worth the risk to me.” She watched him motion for a waitress. “What are you drinking?”
How embarrassing. What was she drinking? She started to make up some sexy sounding drink but she couldn’t think of one. So she answered truthfully. “Just lemonade.”
He grinned like she’d said something witty. “A fine choice, lemonade it is.” The same waitress who had offered Cassie unspoken condolences earlier, now gave her a distinct look of…yes, it had to be—jealousy! Cassie didn’t know whether to laugh or blush.
He nudged up the brim of his Stetson. “Bowie Travis Malone, ma’am.”
Cassie trembled as he spoke. Leaning toward her, he held out his hand.
She quickly let their fingers clasp, then turned him loose lest she be tempted to hold on too long. “Hi, Bowie. I’m Cassandra Cartwright, Cassie for short.”
How stupid did that sound? Cassie’s mouth was dry. When the waitress reappeared with their drinks and Bowie handed her the frosty glass. She gulped down a couple of sips. This was the first time a man had ever bought her a drink. The first time she’d ever been so attracted to a guy that her whole body ached from it.
“Hello, Cassie-for-short.”
Putting both hands under her legs, she sat on them, trying to keep them from shaking. What could he want? Was he waiting for someone? “Hope that doesn’t catch on, it’s a mouthful.”
Damn, he’d like a mouthful of one of those luscious tits he could see molded so lovingly by the material of her dress. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before.”
Cassie bit the inside of her lip. The pain gave her something to concentrate on besides her nerves. “I don’t get out much,” she confessed, not knowing what else to say. “Were you looking for Cordelia?”
She looked uncomfortable, Bowie didn’t like that. Where was his usual charm? “No, I don’t know Cordelia. I was looking for you. Did you know you’re so beautiful, you made me forget my pickup line?”
For that he got a smile. Good.
The almost pleading look on his face touched Cassie. This wasn’t his fault. She decided to make him feel at ease, so she relaxed and laughed. “Well, as far as pickup lines go, that’s pretty good. Although if I was trying to pick you up, I’d say something like…is it hot in here or is it just you?”
“Ha!” Bowie snorted. “Good one. So you think I’m hot?”
“I’m sure you have a mirror,” she said matter-of-factly. “Or how about this, apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”
Bowie decided he liked Cassie for her humor as much as he did for her looks. “Call the police, you just stole my heart.”
“You know, you might be asked to leave soon, you’re making the other men look really bad.” It was a good thing she listened to her friends or she wouldn’t know all of these corny one-liners.
He put a hand on his chest in mock pain. “Call Life Alert, cause I’ve fallen for you and I can’t get up.”
Cassie was having a good time. “Hope you know CPR, cuz you take my breath away!”
“Good one. Of course I’ll have to fall back on the tried and, in your case, absolutely true stand-by—‘If I told you that you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me’?” What he said might be a joke, but it was certainly no lie. She was dainty but sweetly rounded in all the right places. The purple dress she wore highlighted a graceful neck, smooth shoulders and tanned arms which looked surprisingly toned for someone so fragile looking. Biting back a moan, he let his eyes caress a pair of breasts that appeared to be round, firm, big enough to fill his hands, and aroused. Trying to be discrete, he let his gaze drop from her tits and regretted the table which hid the rest of her. Bowie never denied that he had a high appreciation for a woman’s legs and ass. “Damn honey, you have more curves than a race track. Do you want to dance?”
He was still joking around, so Carrie didn’t answer his question. But…she couldn’t believe it, he seemed to be checking her out! And apparently there was something to see. Their teasing had excited her. She could feel it, her nipples were hard. She wanted to look down at her bodice so much, but she was embarrassed. Time to change the subject. “So, to ask the question seriously this time, what do you do for a living besides being sexy?” Lord, forgive her. She wasn’t really flirting, she was just being friendly.
What a sweet smile. He was absolutely bowled-over. Bowie almost continued with their sexy sparring, but something told him she wasn’t as worldly as she was pretending to be. “I have two jobs, one I do for money and one I do for myself.”
“Lucky you.”
“I have Malone Earthworks to pay the bills. We build frac ponds and drilling pads for oil companies for the most part.”
“So, you work with heavy equipment.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she held back the teasing smile.
Bowie threw back his head and laughed. “You’re a minx!” He sat up straighter in his chair, easing the pressure of his swelling cock against the zipper of his jeans. “I do have heavy equipment, I won’t deny that.”
“And I’m sure you know how to use it.” What was wrong with her? Cassie had made her own self blush. “What else do you do?”
“I’ll be glad to give you a demonstration of my heavy equipment operating ability anytime.” Bowie chuckled. “But to answer your question, I’m a tracker. It’s a satisfying job but a taxing one. Sometimes when I come off a job, I unwind here at Arkey Blue’s Silver Dollar. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed you here before.”
Cassie bit the inside of her lip and reinforced the point she’d tried to make earlier. “It’s been a long time since I was here. Really, I’m pretty boring, sort of a homebody. I keep to myself most of the time.” God, she sounded pathetic.
Bowie moved his hand toward hers as if he intended to touch her. She tensed up and grabbed for her drink. “That’s a shame. A beautiful woman like you should never be alone.”
His words were like drops of dew on parched earth. She soaked up the kind sentiment, starved for attention. She searched for something to say that would explain her life yet not reveal the inadequacy. “I keep busy.”
“I bet you do. Busy being the prettiest girl in the county.”
He was flirting with her! The knowledge was so foreign, yet so exciting Cassie found it hard to breathe. “No, but I volunteer at a no-kill animal shelter sometimes.” There was no way he was interested in her hobbies and pastimes. She was just too boring.
“So, you like animals?” He winked at her and Cassie tingled from head to toe. Even the functioning muscles of her back and legs which gave her so much grief, shivered with pleasure.
“I love them. I have a big orange tabby and a Dachshund. Do you have any animals?”
Leaning back in his chair, he smiled. �
�I sure do. I live at the old Vega Verde site where Jefferson Davis brought camels to Texas to serve in the military. To keep up the tradition, I have Laurence and Jasmine. I also have a menagerie of other animals—dogs, cats, cows, horses, even a pot-belly pig. You’ll have to come meet everyone,” he encouraged.
“Sounds wonderful.” It wasn’t going to happen, but she liked to think about it.
“Where do you live?”
Cassie didn’t consider not telling him, she instinctively trusted him. They wouldn’t be exchanging visits anyway. “I live near you, actually. The old Sever place, have you heard of it?”
He had. “I know right where you are. Do you have far to drive to work? You’re pretty isolated out there.” He looked concerned. Her heart warmed.
“I work from home. I make candles to sell online and in area stores.” She told him about Circle C. “For the past few years I lived with my grandmother but she’s passed. Now the place belongs to me.” As she waved her hand around, a bracelet she was wearing dropped off.
Bowie bent to pick it up. “A charm bracelet?” He looked at it closely. There was a starfish, a seahorse, a dolphin, an umbrella, a flip-flop sandal, a sun, and a sand dollar. “This is pretty.”
“Thank you.” She held her hand out to take it. “It used to belong to my mother. Dad gave it to me after she died.”
“I’m so sorry.” He was. And he understood. He’d lost his folks too. They’d never really recovered from the shooting. His mom had succumbed to a stroke at forty-two and his dad had died with cancer at forty-six. “No, let me.” He held it out and she realized he wanted to help her fasten it. Cassie gave him her hand and he slipped it on for her. “You must really love the beach.”
His touch on her skin was making her hot and dizzy. “I’m sure I would, but I’ve never been.”
“Never been?” He was incredulous. How could that be? “We don’t live that many hours from the Gulf?” Why, he could drive down there, take a swim and drive back in half of a day. “It seems to me like you’ve been missing out on a lot of good things.”
