A Promise of Roses Read Free Page B

door flew open. Tommy came in and dropped his burdens onto the table, oblivious to the game of cards that promptly slid out of order. Frank let out a curse, then threw down his hand. He grabbed one of the burlap sacks, dumping its contents. Six apples rolled out, along with a hunk of cheese, a slab of salted bacon, and two unmarked tin cans.
    Evan looked into the other bag and sighed. “Good thing you didn't turn this one over, Frank.” He pulled out a loaf of bread and half a dozen brown eggs tucked in a bed of straw within a small wooden crate. “Where's Luke?"
    Tom smiled. “He's a thinker, that's for sure. He done bought us all whiskey to celebrate."
    The man under discussion chose that moment to step through the doorway. He held two bottles by the neck in each hand. He'd tucked the fifth into the waistband of his tan trousers. “Drink, anyone?” he asked with a wide grin and proceeded to gift each man in the group with his own botlle .
    "None for me?” Megan asked, her mouth turning down in a pout.
    Slowly, like butter melting over hot corn on the cob, Luke pulled the whiskey out of his waistband. He tilted it toward her and in a silky-smooth drawl said, “Be my guest."
    Megan smiled, wondering if he expected her to refuse his offer. Maybe this was a test to see if she actually had the gumption to drink with them.
    She reached out and, as leisurely as he'd removed it from his pants, took hold of the bottle. “Thank you."
    She wiggled the cork loose and set it on the tabletop, then lifted the bottle in silent salute to the bandits before taking a long swallow. Her body seemed to go up in flames. The liquid burned down her throat, taking several layers of vital tissue with it. Her eyes began to water. She held her breath to keep from letting out a strangled scream.
    Luke looked at her with twinkling blue eyes.
    Megan would not let him see how much pain the alcohol caused. She blinked to clear her vision, then forced a smile. “That is the worst-tasting whiskey I've ever had.” She heard the strain in her own voice, and, before she could change her mind, she took another swig of the nasty liquor.
    "That it is,” Evan agreed after drinking from his own bottle.
    Frank grunted. “Tastes like horse piss,” he said, lowering his bottle from his lips.
    "Well, now, Miss Megan,” Luke said, removing his hat and wiping an arm over his forehead, “nobody said you had to drink it."
    Megan stared at the man. Half of her wanted to strangle him. The other half wanted to run her fingers through his sandy-blond hair. This was the first time he'd taken off his hat, and her heart did a little flip when she saw the whole of his attractive features.
    From the start she'd thought his eyes surpassed the blue of a summer sky. But together with the dark gold of his hair, they formed a package that was almost too much to handle all at once.
    The trail-worn condition of his clothes no longer hid the handsomeness of the man. Something happened when he took his hat off; it was like flinging back a curtain to fully reveal a work of art. Tan skin covered cheekbones that now seemed finely chiseled rather than menacing.
    Luke reached for the bottle. Megan let him take it.
    "Who's winning?” he asked. The question was directed at the men, but he kept his eyes on her.
    "She is,” Dougie said with a moan.
    " Meggie here is quite good,” Evan added.
    "I'll bet."
    There was a double meaning somewhere in the conversation, but Megan didn't have the energy to figure it out. Her body felt flushed, and she didn't think it was a result of only two sips of whiskey.
    They dealt Luke in and continued to play poker, their hunger forgotten now that they had liquor to fill their empty stomachs. Megan maintained her winning streak—which she pretended was beginner's luck—for well over an hour. When her eyes grew tired of concentrating on the different suits, she folded her hand, settling back to watch the others.
    Megan didn't even realize she'd fallen