"Hold your damn horses." It ain't like he's expecting no one, but he knows who he hopes it is. A little afternoon delight wouldn't be out of the question; he's sure he could muster the energy for that.
When he looks through the peep-hole he smiles, even though it ain't Mata Hari waiting for him on the other side. It's Freckles and it looks like she brought the beer, and that's just nice and fine by him.
"How do, Ghost Rider? Come on in."
He eyes her: she's pretty, Freckles. Some might take her for sweet, but he knows better. She ain't been sweet a day in her life when she meant it. Beneath that smile and those big puppy dog eyes of hers, she ain't nothing but calculating.
It's a good thing to know about a person.
"Beer for me? You shouldn't have." He doesn't give her the choice: as he ushers her in, he helps himself to one. "If I knew there was gonna be a party, I would have brought the chips. What brings you to my humble abode?"
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When he looks through the peep-hole he smiles, even though it ain't Mata Hari waiting for him on the other side. It's Freckles and it looks like she brought the beer, and that's just nice and fine by him.
"How do, Ghost Rider? Come on in."
He eyes her: she's pretty, Freckles. Some might take her for sweet, but he knows better. She ain't been sweet a day in her life when she meant it. Beneath that smile and those big puppy dog eyes of hers, she ain't nothing but calculating.
It's a good thing to know about a person.
"Beer for me? You shouldn't have." He doesn't give her the choice: as he ushers her in, he helps himself to one. "If I knew there was gonna be a party, I would have brought the chips. What brings you to my humble abode?"