"Oh, John," she whispered ecstatically.
Loving John this way brought stillness to the air, sweat-beads to her chest bone and the sounds
and smells of the Red River to wash over her like a baptism...:namespace prefix = o ns =
"urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office"
"John?" Her man raised his head so heaven's hue spread a golden glimmer over his brown chest.
"Who the hell are you?" Mary gasped, her eyes widening in fright.
"My name José. You embrace me as John."
She bit at her bottom lip and stared frantically at the young face. What had happened?  Where had
she picked up this stranger?
She looked around, tried to clear her mind, tried to think. She was at the beach. How had she
arrived here without knowing?
The man mumbled something as she wiggled from his grip.
"Please get out," she said, her voice weak and intimidated.
"You can't do this to me lady."
"Get out!"
His body jerked at her sudden yelling.
'Why you are upset? You pick me up, lady."
"Oh God. How could I?
"You remember? The bar? The shots?"
"You take me to my pickup, lady?"
Mary swallowed, humiliation covering her. "Show me the way."
Oh God, how had this happened!
She didn't know anybody named John and she never picked up men in bars.