Great.
* * *
“Wait,this is where we’re going?” Warwick asks, looking at the sign out front.
Jennings Ranch Supply.
“Yeah, is this okay?” I turn to him in my cramped little truck and damn near lose my train of thought to the nearness of his lips. I grip the steering wheel, willing myself not to run my fingers through his trim beard.
He drums his fingers on his thigh, then shrugs. “Sure, I guess so. The Goodnights have some history with the Jennings, but…”
He lets the words die off, and now I’m confused.
“Didn't y'all just spend the night in the emergency room waiting room for one of the brothers?”
“Yes, but it's complicated.”
I take off my cap and run my hand back and forth over my hair. “We can go somewhere else if you’d prefer, but Desi said to check here first for anything we need.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Said he wanted us to be known for supporting local businesses.”
He opens his mouth, then shuts it. “Alright, then. Let’s support a local business.”
That settled, we get out of the truck and walk in. The bell alerts the guy behind the counter, who does look familiar.
“Welcome to…oh, hi.” The guy, wearing a nice blue polo withJasonstitched on it, smiles, though it's tentative.
Wick scratches his beard. “So when did y'all open a supply store? Did the fencing operation not work out?”
Jason grimaces to himself. “The opposite, actually. Local distributors wouldn’t work with me, so I started going direct to suppliers. It sorta snowballed from there. Desi helped me figure out the financials, so we’re actually doing really well now.”
Wick scratches his beard. “That was awful nice of Desi to help.”
Jason rearranges the display of construction pencils on the counter. Even though he seems pretty proud of himself, he’s still struggling to look Wick in the eye. Interesting.
“And business is good?” Wick asks.
He nods. “Better than I could've imagined. I got a whole crew taking care of the fencing end of things, and I mostly stay here since this is new and I'm trying to drum up business.”
“How's Justin?” Wick asks, his questions still seeming a little pointed.
Jason shifts his shoulder, then answers. “I've got him out on one of my crews.”
“He’s leading a crew?”
I hip-check him. “Why’re you interrogating him?” I ask out of the corner of my mouth.
“Mind your business,” he responds, hip-checking me back.
“No, not leading a crew,” Jason responds, fidgeting with a pen. “We figured out that physical labor keeps him in the best headspace, but it’s early days, and neither of us is ready for him to lead anything yet.”
Wick nods as though he approves, which I find a little funny. After a beat, he pulls out his list of supplies and hands it over to Jason.
“So, do you have any of these things?”
He scans the list with his pen, humming as he goes. “Yeah, I've got all of it.”
