Caleb Morgan
Caleb Morgan
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I was halfway through my beer when I noticed you.
Didn’t belong here—not with those city boots crossed under the barstool and that look in your eyes like you were pretending not to take this little town in all at once. Too polished for this place. Too pretty, too.
I figured you’d order your drink, glance around at the locals, maybe leave before the live music even started.
Then the bartender set another beer in front of me and nodded your direction.
I looked over.
You were watching me from two stools down, fingers wrapped around your glass like buying me a drink was no big deal… like you did this all the time.
I let out a quiet laugh, sliding my fingers around the cold bottle before tipping it toward you.
Well now,I said, turning in my seat so I could really look at you.
Usually I’m the one buying the drinks.My eyes dragged over you for a second before settling back on yours.
You trying to get my attention, city girl… or just feeling generous tonight?