Bob Belcher Mustache Novels & Stories

She was with another man. He could see the pair easily through the diner window. They sat in a booth next to the glass, oblivious to the stream of people passing on the sidewalk, oblivious to the pair of dangerous men observing them. The guy was big and mean looking. Every bit as rugged and confident as Rob. He was tall and muscular with a full head of hair and a dark beard. Every visible inch of the guy's skin was tattooed. He looked like a biker. Someone Rob might hang out with if he didn't intend to kill the guy first chance he got. Veronica's small hand was sitting casually on top of the stranger's hand, as though touching was the norm for these two. The guy looked enthralled with whatev

He used to call it Fender. Its hair is low fade cut. It no longer has piercings on the chin, nose and lips. Its face that used to always go to war, is the opposite now. It was like an angel who had just descended from heaven with the super intelligent aura of his face. Add to that that they wear glasses when they go out in public. Sometimes he thinks, it’s exhausting points. Literally jaw dropping changed its face that even their neighbors who are students in secondary, make the man cute. Sometimes, even grandmothers. "I'm still not used to calling you Caleb," he complained, "Can't we just Fender?"

I craned my neck over the sea of faces bearing board of the name of their families, loved ones and others. It didn't take me long to see my name, KELVIN boldly written on a white board, held by a man in Black suit. I studied the man closely. This man was a mountain of black flesh and muscles. He was the biggest man I had ever seen. He had tremendous broad shoulders that was impressive and a face as ugly as a gorilla. His head was shaved and there was a knife scar that ran down the right side of his face from his eyebrows to the back of his chin. I didn't like the looks of him. He looks a lot more gangsta and dangerous.

Balthazar looks like a Dobermann. "Until when are you going to stare at me?" he asked, scratching his jaw where his beard would grow. "Damn, I haven't had to shave in ages so I've thrown away all my tools," he grumbled in great annoyance. Still amazed I stared at Balthazar's new face. Unlike me, his face changed completely because the distance between the ages of teenagers and adults was quite far. So her cute face also faded, replaced with a ferocious face. "Why ... have you changed too?"

Bella’s hand shook when she set the empty glass on the bar. The bartender, a tall guy named Rico with a gold tooth, grabbed it without looking up. “VIP booth already?” he asked. “Damn, girl. You just started.” She wiped her palms on the tiny skirt. “He asked for me.” Rico glanced toward the back booth and his smile dropped fast. “That’s the boss.” Bella’s stomach flipped again. “The owner?” “Yeah. Mikhail Lobanov.” Rico leaned closer, in a row voice. “Listen well. You see him on the floor? You keep your eyes down. You don’t stare. You don’t smile extra. You don’t talk unless he talks first. Got it?”

He politely took off his sunglasses and asked, "Is Bella here?" "Um... she's... here..." Bonnie was truly stunned this time. The man in front of her had handsome features, a straight nose, and thin lips forming a determined arc, exuding mature charm from head to toe. Devon was the best-looking man she had ever seen, but compared to the man in front of her, Devon seemed lacking in masculinity, let alone his appearance and physique.

“Nav, this is perfect. Coming home, eating, listening to music. You take care of me like... ah, a wife from the 1950s. He leaned forward to slice the pie, and there was an odd note in his voice as he he said: “That's what friends are for. “However, when he looked up, he was with the same quiet smile as always, half hidden by his mustache and beard. “I really wish you'd shave off that beard,” I said, for the zillionth time. I I was dying to see what his face looked like under all that curly black hair. With the beard, his face had a rounded, youthful shape, more like cute than cute. beautiful. Of course he could be disguising a weak chin or acne scars. “You're too obsessed with appearances. ’

I held the urge back to roll my eyes. But what really caught me off guard was how attractive the guy in the middle was. He had dark brown hair and a stubble. I shocked myself, thinking how soft his hair would be if I had let my hands through his hair and rough beard. His hair was like a wavy mess; tousled. He had light blue eyes, I could see slight annoyance in them, but he quickly masked it with an expressionless face. Something told me was a man who doesn't show expressions, for some reason that fact annoyed me. Why business men always had such a face, I never understood.

“Calvin!! Every parent loves each and every child, no matter how different they are. So, throw that question out of your mind and heart, okay?” “Okay, Mom.”, Calvin nodded. “Please tell us more about dad. Does he keep a beard and mustache or clean shave?” “Beard and Mustache?” Sophia chuckled. “He hates that and always keeps a clean shave.” * On the other side, a person with a big mustache and beard lifted the sheet from his body. * “He keeps short trimmed hair.”, Sophia explained. * On the other side, that person rolled his long brown hairs, onto his chest, into a bun.

No one paid any attention to Conner. From his new vantage point, he had a better look at the preparations for the next bit to be filmed. He recognized the tall, athletic figure of Bart Braverman, a.k.a. Detective John Hustle, huddled together with a much shorter, gray-haired man. Braverman was a good-looking guy in his late twenties, with long, neatly shaggy golden hair that hung over the collar of his dark brown blazer, which he wore over a light T-shirt, sort of retro Miami Vice look. No one on either side of the law would ever mistake Braverman for a cop, and Conner was reminded of Alexa Cline’s comment about his own appearance. He smiled to himself—maybe he should go into acting.