“I’m not rippin’ him off, I’m honorin’ his memory. Besides, sure there were plenty of cowboys who dressed up the same before he even got into movies. The crew got inspired from somewhere.”
He’s put thought into this, obviously, and it’s not often anyone actually puts up with his long, rambling talks about old Westerns and the finer points of cowboy culture. But seeing as there’s more important topics on the table, he manages to keep from elaborating, focusing instead on Ashe.
The boys would say they wished you were back just to reign me in. He schools his face, hoping the little twinge in his chest doesn’t translate to an outward expression. Had he been missed? He’d wondered sometimes, feeling self-centered and a little bit maudlin about it. He’d not been close to anyone like he’d been close with Ashe, but he’d had friends. They’d been in it together. How much of that old gang was even still around these days, not killed off, scared off, or arrested?
Again, off-topic. He feels the truth of what she’s saying without even having to consider it: she doesn’t need him to be successful, but she might just need him to stay alive long enough to reap the rewards. As for whether he’s willing to do that… well, he doesn’t have to consider that either. Looking into those ruby-toned eyes, he knows the answer.
Say what’s on his mind? Hell, does he even know? Does he want to ask a question, or make her a promise, or say something he shouldn’t? Like how pretty she is when she blushes, the warmth of her cheeks offsetting her eyes…?
No. None of that, obviously. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
no subject
He’s put thought into this, obviously, and it’s not often anyone actually puts up with his long, rambling talks about old Westerns and the finer points of cowboy culture. But seeing as there’s more important topics on the table, he manages to keep from elaborating, focusing instead on Ashe.
The boys would say they wished you were back just to reign me in. He schools his face, hoping the little twinge in his chest doesn’t translate to an outward expression. Had he been missed? He’d wondered sometimes, feeling self-centered and a little bit maudlin about it. He’d not been close to anyone like he’d been close with Ashe, but he’d had friends. They’d been in it together. How much of that old gang was even still around these days, not killed off, scared off, or arrested?
Again, off-topic. He feels the truth of what she’s saying without even having to consider it: she doesn’t need him to be successful, but she might just need him to stay alive long enough to reap the rewards. As for whether he’s willing to do that… well, he doesn’t have to consider that either. Looking into those ruby-toned eyes, he knows the answer.
Say what’s on his mind? Hell, does he even know? Does he want to ask a question, or make her a promise, or say something he shouldn’t? Like how pretty she is when she blushes, the warmth of her cheeks offsetting her eyes…?
No. None of that, obviously. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
“You hungry?”