Page 11 of Haunted Spurs

When I look up, a massive hand plants itself on the floorboards. Then the face of my one-night stand ducks under the table, invading my hiding spot. Those blue eyes lock onto mine, paired with a lopsided grin that makes my heart stop.

“Ahhhhhh!”

I scream. A high-pitched shriek, exactly like the pathetic heroine of a B-movie horror film who just got found by the monster.

3

Close Encounters (and Lethal Muffins)

Ron

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Okay, I didn’t mean to laugh either, but this is just too damn funny.

I feel like a terrible person right now.

But how could I not laugh? I watched the whole thing unfold. I was walking down the sidewalk when she caught my eye through the window of the Pumpkin Spice Café. Hunched over her laptop, gorgeous, deep in some phone conversation, and I walked in without thinking twice.

God… she’s even more beautiful than I remembered. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders, broken up by those two stark white streaks framing her face, giving her a magnetic, mysterious vibe. And those full, pouty lips…

Should I be offended that a grown woman just threw herself under a table to avoid me?

Well, technically, yes.

Wounded pride. Rejected. Ignored.

“You didn’t scare me,” she declares. She pouts and crosses her arms over her chest, her elbows resting on her knees. I think she’s trying to glare at me, to instantly incinerate me on the spot, except her massive chocolate-brown eyes are so bright and magnetic that it just makes her irresistible.

“Ah, so you doing that whole screaming thing was because you weren’t scared?” I ask, unable to hold back a chuckle. Maybe Grant’s right. I’m a jackass.

I try to crouch down lower, resting one knee on the floor, but it takes a Herculean effort.

“What are you doing here?” she snaps, her voice vibrating with irritation and panic.

“Well, honestly, I’d rather be up there than down here…” I mutter, trying to shift my weight. “You know, it’s a little tough hunching down here. My legs are too long for this cramped space. I have no idea how you’re so comfortable.”

“Dammit, I didn’t mean under the table… I meant right here, here!” She tries to play tough, but I can clearly see the corners of her lips twitching into almost the ghost of a smile.

“Oh, here… Elm Hollow? I live here!” I reply cheerfully.

“What? Weren’t you a new-cowboy just passing through for the rodeo?”

“You’re never going to let that new cowboy bullshit go, are you?” I stare at her, tilting my head slightly. She keeps glaring at me, holed up in her little square of space. Shouldn’t she be happy to see me again? I sure am. I’m so fucking happy I found her again.

“And you came back home?” I ask hopefully, trying to soften my tone.

Selene freezes. Her arms tighten a little more across her chest, and one perfect eyebrow shoots up.

I wait. But seriously, couldn’t we have this conversation sitting in chairs like two normal people? My knees are begging for mercy at this point.

“What do you mean… you know I live here?” she whispers, her tone shifting. Her shoulders go rigid as she studies me even more intensely, searching my expression. “Do you know who I am?”

“Darlin’…” I spread my arms in an obvious gesture. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know Selene Dusk?”

Oops.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Not like that, anyway. Her expression goes from suspicious to furious in a nanosecond. She’s glaring at me even harder than before.