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Smiling at her and catching the scent of her violet perfume, I watched her walk away and then turned back to Murphy. His eyes were already all over me and I tried not to notice.
     
    “How are you sleeping at the inn,” I asked and rested my wrist on my knee leaving my beer bottle to hang limp between my fingers, tapping my shin. My other hand lifted to the rose around my neck, something I often did without realizing it. I watched his pale grey eyes follow my hand to my chest and eye the charm.
     
    “I don’t need much sleep,” he replied with his eyes still on the silver rose. I dropped the rose and lowered my hand to my lap. “I stayed here for a while last night and the little lady behind the bar had to show me the door. Drove out to the middle of nowhere, fired a few rounds and watched the sun come up.” His rough voice was slightly arousing. I found I liked listening to him speak. His accent was slightly southern but sounded closer to those on the east coast rather than from around here. I made a mental note that he carried a gun. I hadn’t expected anything less.
     
    “I did laundry,” I replied and smirked as I sipped my beer and watched his lips peel back over his flawless teeth. His grin held the promise of wicked things
     
    “Is that what they are calling it these days?” Wandering grey eyes slid to my rose again and then to my eyes.
    “Desert rose,” he said in almost a whisper. I nodded and didn’t offer him the story behind the charm. It wasn’t his business. I shifted my gaze to the bar as I turned up my bottle and finished its contents. I heard the sound of shifting leather as he moved but I didn’t turn to watch him. I didn’t want him to get the idea that I was jumpy or wary. I could feel this warmth as he leaned forward in his seat to get closer to me. I slightly rolled my eyes, now watching the television behind the bar. I was sure he was going to use the excuse of looking at my charm to get a better shot of my chest.
     
    I shifted my gaze to find he wasn’t that close to me at all and his eyes were closed. I watched his nose flair as I had the evening before. He was taking in my scent again. Tilting my head, I watched him for a moment and also wondered how he radiated such heat. He lowered his head and sat back in his seat again. Big hands reached for the Marlboro Reds on the table and fished one out. I watched as his Zippo appeared and lit the cigarette. He tossed the lighter to the table top and I could see the image of a howling wolf engraved on its side.
     
    “Would you like to check out the shop this afternoon,” I asked him trying to sever the tension building silence between the two of us. “I don’t take customers on Fridays. I usually work on my own truck but I would love for you to get the feel of the shop before I open on Monday.” He took a long drag and blew the smoke away from me. I appreciated that.
     
    “Sure thing, babe,” he replied and I felt the heat. The heat confused me because it was radiating from both my temper and my sexuality. I hated it when men gave women little pet names. I was the typical woman who would give a man a black eye for calling her “baby”. Well, I would probably shoot off his pinky toe. And at the same time the way he said “babe” sent a ripple through my middle. I’d save a bullet today and he would keep his little toe. I almost wanted to hear him say it again. Confused with myself and my sudden attraction; I exhaled heavily and pouted in an attempt to avoid biting my lower lip. I watched him shift slightly away from me as if my emotions were reaching out for him and he smirked.
     
    “Care to follow me back or can you find it on your own,” I asked and glanced at my empty bottle. One beer was enough this early in the day. I sat the bottle down and climbed to my feet. Standing before him, I felt his warmth even more as my knee brushed his. He sure was one hot natured man. He turned his eyes up to meet mine and I noticed a