He softly cleared his throat, trying not to startle her. Of course if her nerves got any worse, they might be in trouble just the same. It was good to know she wasn’t completely okay with blowing his brains out right here and now. The grimy finger squeezing the trigger shook some. Plush pink lips parted as though she might speak but then she paused, as if she thought better of it. “There are just a few cans of soup, and Irish stew. It currently contained the sum total of his worldly goods, but she was welcome to it. He gave the old rucksack at his feet a nudge with the toe of his sneaker. “Okay.” Daniel did as told, keeping his happy face on her the whole time, hunching a little when he stood back up.
Slow.” Her voice sounded dusty with disuse. He refused to be discouraged his smile did not waver. Wary gray eyes devoid of even a hint of elation watched him down the barrel of the gun. Sadly, his girl did not appear to share his joy. Not even the dried blood splattered on the wall behind her could diminish the picture she made. Tall and curvy, around thirty at a guess, and uninfected, she was by far the best thing he had ever seen in jeans and a t-shirt.
The feeling of sweet relief rushing through him nearly buckled his knees. Something a little overdue for a bath and a lot on edge, but something very good just the same. She all but shone with it, like an angel or a princess or something. Sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window. These days, even a gun-toting, trigger-happy female was a delight to behold, and she was perfect. With thanks to Babette and Louise.ĭaniel looked down the barrel of the shotgun all set to blow his brains out and grinned. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.įor Hugh.
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