Your mother always taught you to be cautious around men, especially crazy men. She taught you that criminals are not dating material and will only end up hurting you.

This Cole Cassidy was not ordinary criminal. He was precise, sloppy at time, but a skillfully man. Before you met him, you were the quiet christian girl, too scared to even speak one curse word.

Now, you were almost as crazy as him. A gunslinging maniac who never lost. Glued at the hip. You were crazy about Cassidy. As was he. You’d cross your heart and hope to pass before you’d lie to him. In the end, it’s him and you.

“Jesus, sugar. Forgot how good you were with that piece a’ metal.” He chuckles, putting a cigar between his lips.