Nothing but Trouble

"You're staring at me, son," Bryce Lanyon said, jingling his bound hands in front of him. His wrists were damned sore, and his shoulders weren't much better. He'd had the manacles on for nigh on three days, since they'd caught him with that little actor just outside of Santa Fe.

The kid, who was probably only a few years younger than his own twenty-eight years but was still somehow a kid, shook his head and turned to look out the window.

"Sorry."

"Well, no need to apologize, I reckon. I must be somethin' pretty unusual for a small town deputy."

A well-known bank robber on his way to Texas to stand trial.... Well, that had to be something to a small town deputy in Socorro. Something big. The horses needed a rest, and the Marshals were right decent about putting him up in a hotel room while they drank and whored the night away.

The deputy was his sole guard for the night. It was gonna be a long one if all they did was stare at each other.

Sliding down on the straw ticking, Bryce pulled his hat down over his eyes, hoping the kid would take the hint.

Too bad the deputy took his motions as an invitation to stare some more. Bryce could feel those pale blue eyes like a touch, boring right into him. Lord, lord.

"You're still staring."

"I ain't never heard tell of a man doing what they say you done," the kid said, shifting in his creaky chair.

Bryce raised his head, peering from under the brim of his hat. "Well, now, I admit, I done held up more banks than most, but I ain't that‹"

"Not that." Those tanned cheeks went bright red. "The other."

Ah. Well, that explained a lot. "You mean fucking a man like a woman." He wasn't one for pussyfooting about.

"That. Yessir."

"You got a name, son?"

"Abel. Ain't your son."

"No. No, I suppose not." He grinned a little, shifting some more to give him room to work his magic, letting his legs fall open. "You think about it a lot?"

Order Nothing but Trouble