be right back. He rose to his hands and knees to fish some matches and a three-for-a-nickel cheroot from the crumpled duds on the floor with him. He got back on the sofa to light up, with the smooth leather making his bare ass feel sort of wicked as he considered women and their mysterious ways. Heâd been wondering how to gracefully get out of all this slap-and-tickle with the office punch board. So it was sort of surprising to feel relieved sheâd be coming right back. The unfair sex was forever springing such surprises on mere men. That was likely why men spent so much time considering their mysterious ways.
As he sat there blowing smoke rings Longarm idly wondered whether Miss Bubbles shared his mingled feelings of delight and distaste for such late-night slap-and-tickle atop office furniture meant for more officious government business. Heâd meant what he said when heâd told the unpredictable blonde they were asking for trouble, and Miss Bubbles had sounded sincere when sheâd agreed they ought to quit whilst they were ahead. Almost getting caught, more than once, had convinced them both, or Longarm, at any rate, that the pleasures of carefree rutting with a casual acquaintance werenât worth the risk to a good government job. But it sure beat-all how tough it was to leave that last chocolate in the box, that last peanut in a bowl on the Parthenon bar, or pass on a sure piece of ass where you worked.
So he couldnât help from grinning like a shit-eating dog when Miss Bubbles nipped back in with just one of the bound ledgers from Judge Dickersonâs desk across the way. She dropped it on the tufted leather by his bare hip and commenced to get undressed some more as Longarm reached for the heavy tome with his cheroot still gripped between his teeth, saying, âHold the thought whilst I just look one or two things up, honey. Youâll find I screw better with an easy mind. All the time we were at it, the last time, part of my brain was in West Texas instead of up your sweet little ring-dang-doo!â
She hung her spring frock back on the same hook and strode back to rejoin him in just her black lisle stockings and high button shoes as she told him to read all he wanted about West Texas land grants.
So he began to as Miss Bubbles sank gracefully to the floor with a bare elbow on the sofa and her hand on his bare thigh.
The rebel state of Texas had yet to win back the rights theyâd once had to store such information in their Austin statehouse. It had been the United States whoâd signed the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo with Mexico to end their war back in â48. One of the terms agreed to was that the federal government would guarantee old Spanish land grants recognized by Mexico in earlier treaties, no matter what the new states and territories of California, Texas, and the New Mexico, since divided into Arizona and New Mexico Territories, might want.
Opening the tome to a map of West Texas, Longarm mused out loud how the Deveruex-Lopez Grant had to be somewhere close to where those three Texas counties met. He added, âIâd have heard tell of it if it was half as big as that million and three-quarters Beaubien-Miranda Grant that old Don Lucien Maxwell bought off the last Beaubien heirs further north along the Pecos. But it canât be too small. You ainât allowed to divide one of them land grants up. All bets are off as soon as you commence carving up the original gift from the king of Spain and, no offense, Miss Bubbles, but Iâm trying to read these old records!â
Miss Bubbles didnât answer. Miss Bubbles couldnât answer, with her mouth so full.
Chapter 4
Miss Bubbles had to be home alone by eleven lest her neighbors suspect her of less than sheâd been up to. Longarm offered her hack fare but she seemed to feel that might call her amateur status into question. So in the end he wound up in his own hired digs on the less