____‡_______‡___
Gonna drive like hell through your neighborhood
Park this silverado on your front lawn
Crank up the Hank, sit on the hood and drink
I'm about to get my pissed off on.
____‡_______‡___
Ruger lifted the glass to his lips, relishing the burn of the whiskey on his tongue as he swallowed a healthy portion of the amber within. It set his stomach ablaze in welcoming warmth as it traveled, settling into the empty space comfortably. Food had been the last thing on the southern male's mind when he'd rolled into town. He'd merely settled into a small hole-in-the-wall hotel room, unpacking a few of his things before embarking on a journey downtown. This place was foreign to him, and he thought it would be a good idea to get a handle on some of the local establishments. Cascade was a city that was off the beaten trail, almost eerie in it's seclusion. Ruger likely would have mosied on past it, if not for the rumors he had begun to hear at the base of the mountain. Those had piqued his interest, so he had altered his travel plans accordingly. So far, he had been rather disappointed in what he'd found in the quaint mountain city. From what the old fellas had told him, this place was supposed to be crawling with vampires and the like. So far as Ruger could see, the city was run down and sleepy...and if there was supernatural activity, he had yet to come upon it.
The sound of the door opening drew his attention, his blue gaze flicking towards it. His hand, which had been moving to set the glass back on the surface of the bar, faltered in mid-air as he caught a glimpse of what the leaves had blown in. While the other patrons of the establishment had all but faded into the background for Ruger, this one stood out. She was elegant in appearance, with just a hint of seduction wavering below the surface. She was, without a doubt, a true beauty...but that was not what caused Ruger to falter. No, there was something else...something that would have likely passed under the radar of the average red-blooded male. There was was something dangerous about the way that this woman carried herself...something that spoke volumes to a trained killer such as himself. She had an air of confidence about her, and Ruger was willing to bet that she could wipe the floor with any of the bumbling idiots that were all but drooling at her feet.
It gave him pause for just a moment longer as he watched her settle into the vacant stool not far from his current position. He then drew his gaze away, opting for another sip of that cherished whiskey instead of setting down as he had intended. His oceanic gaze slipped up from the crystal glass, peering up at the mirror that rested over the bar. It gave him a good view of his surroundings, which he was grateful for. It also gave him another private glance at the bar's newest patron, which was even better. Ruger's brows narrowed as he tried to place what exactly it was about her that had his senses tingling. She was no vampire, of that he was quite sure. He wasn't one to react to a beautiful woman--no, that part of him had died with his fiance, long ago. What then, could it be?
After a long moment, he drew his gaze away from the mirror, shifting slightly in his seat so that he was in her direction. "Looks like you got yourself a fan club, sugar." His southern drawl was thick as he spoke. One brow cocked slightly upward was all the expression he showed as he spoke. "Might be you'll end up with a drink or five from any one of these ol' boys, but I'm guessin' it oughta be me that offers first, seein' how we're sharin' a bit of bar space here and all" The corners of his mouth lifted in the barest hint of a smirk, and he offered his hand to her. "Ruger. Ruger Moss. Just rolled into town here about an hour ago, so forgive a fella if he ain't up to par on the local social graces."
|
Feedback: 
