Reno didn’t miss their admiring glances and turned his attention to Easy. It didn’t help any that her jeans were too tight, and her hair too red, and her lips too full, so he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for his boys to hear him. “Hands off, guys.”
Easy turned around and said, “What?”
“I was just telling the guys who you were. By the way, Easy, this is Flash, Cheyenne, and Midnight. Flash there has a fast draw, like lightnin’ they say, and Cheyenne is a half-breed. Midnight there saved my life one night in a barroom brawl, so we just kind of took him in.”
As she looked at each one, she felt overwhelmed. They were easily the handsomest men—no, not men—outlaws—she’d ever seen. The dangerous, unapologetic outlaws she read about every day in her Ten Penny Novels. She wanted to
