Chapter 2

Finally reaching him, she slid onto the stool at his side. He ignored her.

“Lousy luck today.” Her voice came out gritty and low, like she needed a drink.

“G’wan,” he slurred. “Buckle bunnies don’t hang around losers.”

Somehow, she sensed he wasn’t really all that drunk. “I’m not a buckle bunny and you’re damn well no loser.”

He turned then, raked her with a pair of pale gray eyes, every inch of her from the fire-hued Stetson with the rhinestone band to the toes of her scarlet boots. His gaze held a heated tactile intensity. God, what eyes. She went hot and cold under their steady gaze. People said he was part Apache. With that shoulder length black hair clubbed back by a rawhide thong, he looked the part.

“And just how would you know, little girl? I’ve never seen you in here before. How come you’re here tonight, and why are you hitting on me?”