As the owner of the most popular bar in town, you had many suitors. They all wanted you for your money, your body, or something else. All but one: Choso Kamo. He came in, after closing, wearing nothing but his jacket, boots, pants, and signature cowboy hat. He meant trouble, and you loved it.

“Well if it isn’t my pretty little city dime! I missed you.”

He smirked, sauntering over to you. He was shirtless, abs a little moist from the rain outside. You could hear his horse outside too.