Taming His Stallion [BWWM]

33_Affinity

Paege

"Paege?" A vaguely familiar tenor floated over from somewhere in the background, stopping me in my tracks on the way to my destination.

That voice.

I spun on my heel, flipping between individual faces among the stream of bustling bodies moving up ahead, to and from the sidewalk in front of me. None of which I recognized.

When none of the immediate influx of pedestrians sought me out to investigate further, or at least confirm their suspicions, I thought maybe I'd imagined it.

Whoever had called out to me seemed to be long gone by now. Or, at least, no longer at the mercy of a line of inquiry that rippled a wave of curiosity and nudged them–whomever they were– demanding that they uttered my name aloud and earn my gaze.

Despite seeming resigned, however, resonance stirred up tangible innate memories. A whisper of the near distant past I'd overcome before finding my footing and engaging my current line of work.

It wasn't just hearing my name that set me back a bit, but the disbelieving manner in which they said it that seemed to suggest an acquaintance at the minimum.

Sweeping a glance one last time, I settled in a scrutinizing gaze on a stationary figure no more than a few yards away. The enquirer, I assumed.

My eyes narrowed to slits, squinting for more coverage as I tried to get a better look of the man from a distance, and against the dazzling glare.

The sun, at its midday peak, obscured his features no less. And it didn't help that he wore a Stetson that further concealed his face. But from his silhouette, I surmised that he stood about five feet eleven.

That voice couldn't hide though, despite my inability to decipher whom it belonged to more readily.

Instead, it rattled something in me, jarring loose the distinct notion that I'd heard it before.

His Stetson was drawn low, likely to shield his eyes from the glare, and as a result, cast a shadow over his face, concealing most of his physical attributes from view.

Adjusting the tip of his hat with his forefinger, probably to aid my resolve, he folded his arms, evidently waiting patiently for my memory to knock something loose.

See? Even his mannerism towards me suggested some sort of affinity on his part. So I had not imagined it.

Extending my arm, and granting my eyes some relief, I placed my palm flat and downward between my eyebrows.

After a moment of adjusting to the lighting, I managed to identify a few features of the man standing before me.

Then it clicked. It had been a while since I'd heard that timbre. Ages to be exact. And now I knew why.

His gaze held a trace of recognition, a mischievous glint, long before my eyes shot wide in wonderment.

I stood there in apparent shock, my jaw lulling slightly in a stupor.

"Casey?" A slow smile spread across my face.

From head to toe, Casey was dressed in a pair of dapper navy blue jeans and a grey and white pinstriped shirt.

He nodded in confirmation. "It sure took you long enough," The cowboy teased, flashing an amused grin while closing the gap between us in a few strides to embrace me in a bear hug.

I returned his gesture, wrapping my arms around him, genuinely surprised and happy to see an old friend.

Standing back in astonishment, I regarded him from head to toe and back again with a stupid grin on my face. "Well, isn't this a nice surprise. Casey, look at you!"