Page 159
Story: When the Dark Wins
“Good.” He quirked a smile down at her and pulled a hand out of his pocket. Offered it, palm up. “Dance with me?”
The urge to reiterate that she did not work there rose up, but Buckeye stomped it down. He’d heard her plain as day.
Shit, Wheeler. Ain’t every day attractive men want to put their hands on you. Not with your job.
If there was any nonsense showing on his face, she couldn’t find any. “All right.” Buckeye took the hand and stood. “I warn you now, though, I’m not that great at it.”
“I bet you’re fine.” Because, of course, he was reassuring as well as edible.
He tugged her by the arm in among the others and whirled her close. Her left arm ended up folded over her middle, fingers laced with his right hand, and her back to his chest. The man wasted no time dipping into the rhythm, and with his arm wrapped around her this way, Buckeye could only follow and try not to step on his boots.
She was sure eyes were on her, even though they weren’t. There were barely-dressed rentbodies all over the room; no one would look twice at a mail carrier in a plain shirt and britches. Her cheeks were heating anyway, though, with moving hips at her backside and the scent of male goodness curling in around her shoulders.
Just before the threshold of awkward, he let go and spun her out to the length of his extended arm. Pulled again and let the momentum carry her back to face him. Now the one arm was around her waist, the other dangling at his side. Respectful: he wasn’t trying to cage her. She didn’t mind when their thighs dovetailed together.
Blue eyes were almost too much to look at, but their mirth was contagious.
“I’m Buckeye,” she said as they moved. “And I’m not going to run around here calling you ‘Mr. Handsome’ all night. What’s your name?”
He grinned at her. “August. But I
don’t mind ‘Mr. Handsome’ too much.”
Her face was hot until the end of the song. The tune that followed was something slow, and Buckeye was not ready for that with this man, dimpled smile be damned.
“I, uh … I think I’m gonna see if Cyrus’ll let me have another beer,” she said, untangling herself from his arm.
“Well thanks for the dance. Buckeye.” His eyes glinted amusement as she slipped away to the bar.
He’d made her name sound like a suggestion. Something way more at home in The Yellow Rose than she was. She wasn’t even that thirsty, there just needed to be some space between her and impulsive decisions.
Cyrus gave her a knowing smirk, mopping a rag among his array of bottles as she got close. “Makin’ friends, Bucks?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m makin’. What’s this guy doin’ if he ain’t here to see a trick?” And then, because she didn’t want to look like a liar, she nodded at an upturned glass. “Can I get one more?”
Even with the windows open, Miss Maggie’s parlor had grown too hot for her liking. Buckeye took her drink and slipped back through the door to the entry hall, out onto the porch without anyone paying her any mind.
She leaned on the porch railing and her eyes went to the sky.
The old song always came to her when she stared up into the glittering black. Some line about stars being big and bright, back when there was a Texas. Her father had told her the dense cluster of lights was called the Milky Way. The dust wasn’t blowing right now, and Buckeye could see it clear, and in brilliant focus, a ragged cosmic scar tearing across the sky.
Her gaze drifted to her truck and she made a face. Took a sip of her beer.
If she could travel alone around dangerous, empty regions of The Vice just to do her job, her only protection her wits and a handful of small weapons, why the fuck did she get so nervous around men? The reasonably undamaged ones like this August left her blurting out stupid things, and the rest of them seem to be an assortment of irritating versions of—
“Now that I seen you dance, I’m gonna make that four things I can think of.”
Skinner.
She rolled her eyes, but he’d come up on the other side of her at the railing, so he didn’t see. There was a tug on the glass in her left hand, and Buckeye turned her head to see him lifting it, taking a long draw before setting it on the top of the porch rail on his other side.
Her mouth went into a line. “What do you want, Skinner?”
He leaned an elbow on the railing and gave her a smile so confident she wanted to pistol whip him unconscious. “I’m just tryin’ to figure out why you’re all alone on the porch when there’s comp’ny to be had inside.”
“Think I’ve had about enough ‘company’ for one evening,” she said. Nerves in her fingers were getting twitchy. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about what Maggie’s doin’ than some letter hauler you don’t hardly know?”
The man slid closer and his voice was smooth as glass. “Mags has her own business to conduct.” Fingertips traced over the bones in her wrist. “But you’re done workin’ for the day. Ain’t you.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159 (Reading here)
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179
- Page 180
- Page 181
- Page 182
- Page 183
- Page 184
- Page 185
- Page 186
- Page 187
- Page 188
- Page 189
- Page 190
- Page 191
- Page 192
- Page 193
- Page 194
- Page 195
- Page 196
- Page 197
- Page 198
- Page 199
- Page 200
- Page 201
- Page 202
- Page 203
- Page 204
- Page 205
- Page 206
- Page 207