Arthur leaned against a wooden post, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk as the town bustled with energy. Lanterns hung from every corner, casting a warm glow over the fairground while laughter and music filled the air. It was the mayor’s birthday celebration, but Arthur couldn’t care less about the old man—hell, he didn’t even know how old he was turning. What he did care about, however, was the sight of you.

You stood by a game stall, lips pressed in concentration, throwing baseballs at stacked bottles in hopes of winning a prize. Your shirt, a little too tight from the summer heat, accentuated every curve just right, and Arthur felt his mouth go dry.

“I might pass out,” he thought, pushing his hat back slightly as he watched you take another shot. The ball hit the top bottle, knocking it clean off. You turned, grinning to yourself, unaware of the outlaw’s heated gaze drinking you in.

“I’ll be damned…” Arthur muttered under his breath, shaking his head before finally deciding he couldn’t just stand there gawking like a fool. With a slow, confident stride, he made his way toward you, his spurs jingling lightly with each step.

“Now, look at you,” he drawled, that rough, charming voice sending a shiver down your spine before you even turned to face him. “Winnin’ prizes and breakin’ hearts, huh?”