Page 8 of Live Love Lasso

He waves his hands frantically, looking at the ceiling. “I know, I know! We don’t like to discuss the Keeper! I get it! Calm down.”

As if the words “calm down” ever calmed anyone, much less our persnickety downtown.

Elegant nostrils flare as the woman turns to me, holding out a hand. She’s scenting me. It’s such a damn vampiric thing to do, and it raises the tiny hairs on my nape. Vampires are drawn to dark elf blood more than almost anything else, and the way she’s lookin’ at me with a hint of predatory drive has me straightening in defiance.

“Nice to meet you, Furyon. I’m Lemon.”

Lemon.

Like the fruit?

She rolls her eyes but laughs. “Gods, you’re about to ask why my name’s Lemon, I suppose. My father says it’s because I always looked like I was sucking on one as a baby. And I did cut my fangs on one, so he’s probably right. But, honestly, it’s unique, and I love that, so here we are.”

I reach for her hand and shake it, noting the warmth of her fingers as she curls them around mine. She’s beautiful up close like this. The crimson of her eyes is dotted through with gold and silver specks. Blonde hair in every possible shade is perfectly combed and curled, delicate waves accentuating how sensual she looks.

Of course, she’s a vampire, so everything about her is meant to attract prey and those willing to let her feed.

I push the welcome book toward her as Echo joins me, dropping onto the stool next to mine. “My welcome committee status is unofficial, but feel free to give me a ring if you’ve got any questions as you get acquainted with the Gulch.” I wave at the bar around us. “PG’s a little different from other havens, which you’ll notice pretty fast. Our downtown’s got a mind of her own, and she makes her opinions known often and loudly.”

On cue, the rafters above my head creak out a sound between welcome and warning. Lemon glances up, grinning. The move highlights those tiny twin fangs of hers.

Stop looking at her mouth, Furyon.

I watch as she takes the book and flips it open. “What brings you to town, Lemon?”

“Job at Glimmer.” She flips through the first few pages of the book.

When she says nothing else, Echo shoots me an irritated look.

“Most folks who end up here are lookin’ for something—wide-open spaces, escapism, a little romp in the hay with a country boy. You thought about what you wanna get out of Pine Gulch?”

She looks up at me, nostrils flared. “Most definitely not a romp with anyone. I’m just here for a short-term work thing. I’m not sticking around.”

I drum my fingers on the welcome book’s cover as I offer her my most charming smile. “Too bad, Miss Knox, the Gulch is a lotta fun. Anyhow, the first page inside that book is a scavenger hunt of sorts. You can go through it on whatever timeline you want to. It’s something I insisted on as a way for newcomers to learn more about us. It’ll take you to nearly all corners of the haven and all of the businesses. The Gulch is a welcomin’ place, and folks’ll be glad to meet ya.”

She stiffens, glancing at Oz then back at me, seeming suddenly uncomfortable.

I cock my head to the side. “Everything okay?”

A pleasant mask falls down over her face, and she smiles again. “Everything’s fine, thank you. I’ll be sure to muddle my way through the scavenger hunt right away. Can you recommend a good starting point?”

She’s asking the right questions, but they don’t seem entirely sincere to me. She’s on guard for some reason. I make a mental note to ask Oz later since she looked at him. The facts are that we don’t get a ton of new residents in the Gulch, so when we do get them, it falls to me to give them a nice welcome, suited as they may or may not seem to country livin’. If I were gonna judge a book by its cover, I’d say this woman’ll last all of ten minutes here. But I, more than most, know looks can be deceiving.

Dark lashes flutter against high, round cheekbones. “Any advice for a PG newbie?” She waves around at the rustic bar. “I’ve never been out of the city, if I’m being honest.”

I point at the sparkly boots adorning her feet. “Yeah. Start at the Buxom Bodice and get you some boots that’ll suit you a little bit better. Pretty as those are, they'll be ruined in two minutes out there.”

She stiffens again and lifts her chin, a challenging move that stirs my blood. Next to me, Echo snorts and grumbles something under her breath.

The vampire shoots us both a haughty look. “Not everything has to be practical, you know. Sometimes things can just be pretty.”

Above us, the bar seems to freeze and everyone holds a collective breath. You could hear a coin drop. Half of me wonders if Whiskey Biz might just toss this woman out now for the insolence or if the town’ll love it because she, too, is insolent.

I bite my tongue to hold back the first words that come to my mind in response to the woman’s comment.

Somehow, she seems to know what I must be thinking.

She waves at the microphone still in Oz’s hand. “Maybe my next number’ll be ‘My Give a Damn’s Busted.’ I’ll go old school human country music with that one.”