Fortune's June Bride (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country, Book 6) by Allison Leigh Page A
Authors: Allison Leigh
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about you imagining
anyone
nekkid,” he drawled with feeling, and reached out for the screen door when they reached it. “’Specially my mama.”
His father’s low laughter followed him.
Chapter Four
“Y o, Galen.” Frank Richter stepped out of the trailer after their final show for the day. “Everyone’s heading over to the Two Moon to grab a beer. Interested?”
Galen shook his head. After doing nine days of shows—thirty-six episodes of rescuing Lila from the villain’s clutches—he was more interested in heading to the welcome silence his own house offered. “Burning the candle at both ends has a price,” he excused. “Got chores waiting.”
“At eight-thirty?” Frank was rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt until they were just so. “That’s a crying shame. Friday nights ought to be for things a lot more fun.” A movement from the trailer behind them drew his attention. “Like her,” he said, nodding toward Aurora as she came down the steps wearing cutoff denims and a sleeveless plaid shirt. Her red hair streamed down from the ponytail at the back of her head.
“Thought you were seeing that little gal from the saloon show.”
“And your point?” Frank’s white teeth flashed. “Only thing better than one good-looking woman in your arms is two of them. They’d be fine bookends, wouldn’t they? Sweet, curvy little Cammie on one side and lean, mean Rory on the other?” He rubbed his hands together. “Talk about anticipation.”
“She doesn’t like being called Rory,” Galen said evenly. Since he’d found his boots sinking into Cowboy Country like quicksand, he’d learned it was easier to ignore Frank than get riled over every stupid thing that came out of his mouth. Far as Galen was concerned, there weren’t enough hours in the day to spend ’em being annoyed by an idiot. “But you’re right about one thing,” he added abruptly. “A cold one at the Two Moon sounds good.”
Suiting his words to action, he pulled his truck keys from his front pocket and let his path intercept Aurora’s. “You heading over to the Two Moon Saloon?”
She jumped a little, like he’d startled her. “Um...yes.” She pushed her fingertips into the front pockets of her cutoffs. They weren’t all that short; his little sisters wore cutoffs that bared a whole lot more leg, but he’d never found himself getting distracted by the amount of thigh they’d exposed as he was finding himself now. “You?”
“Thought I might.” He dragged his attention upward. Aurora might be lean, as Frank said, but she was built with the deceptive delicacy of a Thoroughbred racehorse. And Galen had always appreciated good lines. In a horse or a woman. “Need a ride?”
Her lips parted slightly. “Ah...sure. I usually hitch a ride with the mayor.”
“Better Harlan than Frank,” Galen muttered.
Aurora chuckled at that. “Just because I’m a small-town girl doesn’t mean I’m a dolt. One dose of Frank’s octopus arms was enough for me.”
Galen shot her a look. “What’s that supposed to mean? He’s made a pass at you?”
She gave him an odd look. “Frank makes a pass at every female walking.” She knelt down quickly to retie the shoelace on her plain white tennis shoes, and the back of her shirt rode up slightly, revealing an inch of smooth skin above the low waist of her shorts.
Galen ran his hand around the back of his neck, looking belatedly away.
Then she rose again as if she’d never stopped. “I think it’s in his DNA or something,” she continued. “A nuisance, but hard to take anything about him too seriously.” She tugged out her locket watch and angled it toward the light shining down from the overhead poles. “If we hurry, we’ll still be able to get hot wings on the happy hour menu. They’re half price.”
Nothing at the Two Moon Saloon was all that pricy. It would’ve never stayed in business otherwise. The place was attached to the Horseback Hollow Grill, and what
anyone
nekkid,” he drawled with feeling, and reached out for the screen door when they reached it. “’Specially my mama.”
His father’s low laughter followed him.
Chapter Four
“Y o, Galen.” Frank Richter stepped out of the trailer after their final show for the day. “Everyone’s heading over to the Two Moon to grab a beer. Interested?”
Galen shook his head. After doing nine days of shows—thirty-six episodes of rescuing Lila from the villain’s clutches—he was more interested in heading to the welcome silence his own house offered. “Burning the candle at both ends has a price,” he excused. “Got chores waiting.”
“At eight-thirty?” Frank was rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt until they were just so. “That’s a crying shame. Friday nights ought to be for things a lot more fun.” A movement from the trailer behind them drew his attention. “Like her,” he said, nodding toward Aurora as she came down the steps wearing cutoff denims and a sleeveless plaid shirt. Her red hair streamed down from the ponytail at the back of her head.
“Thought you were seeing that little gal from the saloon show.”
“And your point?” Frank’s white teeth flashed. “Only thing better than one good-looking woman in your arms is two of them. They’d be fine bookends, wouldn’t they? Sweet, curvy little Cammie on one side and lean, mean Rory on the other?” He rubbed his hands together. “Talk about anticipation.”
“She doesn’t like being called Rory,” Galen said evenly. Since he’d found his boots sinking into Cowboy Country like quicksand, he’d learned it was easier to ignore Frank than get riled over every stupid thing that came out of his mouth. Far as Galen was concerned, there weren’t enough hours in the day to spend ’em being annoyed by an idiot. “But you’re right about one thing,” he added abruptly. “A cold one at the Two Moon sounds good.”
Suiting his words to action, he pulled his truck keys from his front pocket and let his path intercept Aurora’s. “You heading over to the Two Moon Saloon?”
She jumped a little, like he’d startled her. “Um...yes.” She pushed her fingertips into the front pockets of her cutoffs. They weren’t all that short; his little sisters wore cutoffs that bared a whole lot more leg, but he’d never found himself getting distracted by the amount of thigh they’d exposed as he was finding himself now. “You?”
“Thought I might.” He dragged his attention upward. Aurora might be lean, as Frank said, but she was built with the deceptive delicacy of a Thoroughbred racehorse. And Galen had always appreciated good lines. In a horse or a woman. “Need a ride?”
Her lips parted slightly. “Ah...sure. I usually hitch a ride with the mayor.”
“Better Harlan than Frank,” Galen muttered.
Aurora chuckled at that. “Just because I’m a small-town girl doesn’t mean I’m a dolt. One dose of Frank’s octopus arms was enough for me.”
Galen shot her a look. “What’s that supposed to mean? He’s made a pass at you?”
She gave him an odd look. “Frank makes a pass at every female walking.” She knelt down quickly to retie the shoelace on her plain white tennis shoes, and the back of her shirt rode up slightly, revealing an inch of smooth skin above the low waist of her shorts.
Galen ran his hand around the back of his neck, looking belatedly away.
Then she rose again as if she’d never stopped. “I think it’s in his DNA or something,” she continued. “A nuisance, but hard to take anything about him too seriously.” She tugged out her locket watch and angled it toward the light shining down from the overhead poles. “If we hurry, we’ll still be able to get hot wings on the happy hour menu. They’re half price.”
Nothing at the Two Moon Saloon was all that pricy. It would’ve never stayed in business otherwise. The place was attached to the Horseback Hollow Grill, and what
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