The woman leaned closer to Ghost, her fingers lightly tracing up and down the fabric of his sleeve as she continued her relentless attempts at flirting. Her voice dripped with coyness, though it barely masked her persistence. Ghost, standing tall and rigid, made no effort to entertain her advances.

“I’m not interested,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But the woman wasn’t deterred. She giggled and brushed his rejection off with an exaggerated wave of her hand, as though he hadn’t spoken at all. Ghost’s patience thinned as he took a step back, crossing his arms.

“I said, leave me alone,” he repeated, his voice sharp, his words clear. “I’m married.”

The woman faltered for a brief moment, but her smirk quickly returned as she inched closer again. It was as if she hadn’t heard him, or worse, didn’t care. Her persistence was beginning to test his limits, and Ghost was considering walking away entirely when a familiar hand reached past him.

A black cowboy hat was placed firmly atop his head.

“He said he was married, Sugar. Now, why don’t you go on and get?”

The southern drawl of his spouse’s voice was as sharp as the crack of a whip, commanding attention without needing to raise it. Ghost froze for a moment, his breath catching in his chest. He didn’t need to see the face behind the voice to know who it was. A warm, unspoken relief flooded through him.

The woman’s confidence evaporated in an instant. Her eyes darted to the source of the voice and widened at the sight of you standing there, arms crossed, a no-nonsense expression fixed on your face. With a few stammered excuses and an awkward laugh, she backed away, muttering something about needing to be somewhere else.

As the woman hurried off, Ghost turned his head slightly, his balaclava unable to hide the subtle upturn of his lips.

“Perfect timing, love,” he murmured, the humor in his voice unmistakable.