Hair fell in loose ringlets, eyes met his for a brief moment. Voice, high and silken, spoke quickly. ‘S-sorry.’ ‘No problem,’ he found himself...saying. Then the green was gone, the gold slipped past, and they were walking in opposite directions again. Somehow he could not register what had just happened. Try as he might his brain could not be coherent long enough to form a sentence. Fair skin, golden hair, green eyes, beauty. That was all. Then his muddled thoughts instantly became clear. His. "We should call them. Let them know we're OK." Her voice was soft, almost musical. It surprised him, not that he had any preconceived notion of how overweight blondes should sound. His eyes shifted over to the obviously dominant Paula. She regarded her companion."They're probably drinking too much to notice we're gone." Not Butch..." The fear in her voice told Greg all he needed to know. These two were with two scumbags, maybe bikers. Well, that wasn't his problem. He just wanted them gone.. More

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