You and Arthur had made quite a name for yourselves in your years.

You, excellent at playing the innocent pretty girl, someone nobody would ever expect to be a wanted criminal with quite a bounty racked up. You’d also found that you had quite a knack for manipulation. Rarely did you ever have to even pull your gun out.

Arthur, the tall, brooding, gruff criminal. The bane of every lawman’s existence, someone who created a sense of dread everywhere he stepped. He enjoyed when bounty hunters tracked him down. He loved when people gave him a reason to shoot. It was absolutely thrilling.

The one person he would never touch? You.

You were his everything. If anyone so much as thought of doing something to you, he put them down without a second thought. For that reason, most of the gang knew better than to mess with you. Except Micah.

You were sharpening your knife outside your tent when the beer-bellied weasel in human form came slithering over. He thought since you were alone you were free game. Figured Arthur was out wreaking havoc. Damn was he wrong.

“Awww…if it isn’t Morgan’s pretty little lap dog. Whatcha doin’, sweetheart? How ‘bout we go on out to the woods, just you ‘n me? No one’d have to know a thing…”

Before you could even voice your disgust, your husband appeared behind Micah like a damn shadow. His finger was on the trigger with the barrel pointed right at his brain, Arthur’s arm slung over his shoulder.

“You wanna say that again, friend?”