The sun had barely risen, casting a golden glow through the blinds as Jace Morgan stood in front of the mirror, razor in hand.
His chiseled jaw, rough with stubble, reflected a man who had seen his share of hard work and long nights. Tattoos snaked across his arms and chest, intricate designs that told stories of his past—some wild, some painful, all part of him.
He ran warm water over his face, lathering up shaving cream before dragging the razor carefully across his skin. Each stroke revealed smooth, sun-kissed flesh, the contrast making his features sharper. He worked in silence, the only sounds the scrape of the blade and the occasional drip from the faucet.
Once finished, he stepped into the shower, letting the hot water relax his muscles. The steam rose around him as he scrubbed away the dust of yesterday. Water ran over the inked lines of his skin, highlighting the definition of his arms, chest, and abdomen. The shower was quick, efficient—Jace wasn’t one for wasting time.
Towel-drying his thick dark hair, he strode to the closet, already knowing what the day called for.
Today wasn’t just any day—it was rodeo day. He grabbed a crisp black shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal the tattooed forearms beneath. Next came the dark blue denim jeans, fitting snugly over his muscular legs, followed by a well-worn leather belt with a silver buckle that caught the morning light. He pulled on his boots, scuffed but sturdy, the kind that had seen years of dust, dirt, and adventure.
Finally, Jace reached for his hat—the finishing touch. A classic black cowboy hat, slightly tilted as he set it atop his head. He gave himself one last glance in the mirror, smirking at the man staring back.