Matt Rider stood in the dressing room backstage feeling like a turkey getting trussed for somebody’s Thanksgiving dinner. “I look like a fool,” he added. “Nobody but a wimp or a sissy would wear these things.” Barb giggled, then bent over to run her hands down his legs. Beneath the satin britches he was showing more leg than most because of his height. “I kinda like ‘em myself. Shows off your gams.” “That’s not all they show off.” “That too.” Grinning, Barb stood up to adjust his sword. “There now, you’re absolutely perfect.” “This is a damned crazy idea, if you ask me.” “Brick and Helen did ask you, and you said it was a great idea.” “That’s because I didn’t want to hurt their feelings.” “You’re a sweet man, Matt Rider.” Standing on tiptoe, Barb kissed his cheek. “Don’t you go telling anybody. It would ruin my reputation.” “Seal my lips.” He meant to give her a light kiss but once he started, he couldn’t stop. If somebody hadn’t knocked on the door, he knew what would have happened next.
