Swiping the wipe across the wound has her wincing. “Sorry. Got a lot of dirt in the wound.”
“Mm-hmm. Sure.”
What? She doesn’t believe me?
Tough shit.
She remains still while I clean her scratches. Squeezing some antibiotic cream onto her arm, I cover it with a piece of gauze and wrap it with some of that rubbery tape shit. “There. Good as new.”
She mutters something as she lifts her arm to inspect my work. “Thanks, uh…”
“Nate.”
“Well, thank you, Nate.”
“You’re welcome.” I snap the lid shut on the kit and return to her rim. “Now that we’ve got you patched up, let’s see if we can straighten this thing out.”
I make fast work of the rim but not quick enough. The guys have started to trickle into the shop, and all eyes are on me and this woman. They’ve all made a point to get close enough to catch a good look at her. I don’t blame ‘em. She’s a looker. Still, I growl with every “Mornin’, Nate” that comes my way.
Several of them have even addressed her with shit like, “Mornin’, ma’am.”
Don’t these young assholes know women hate being called ma’am? And honey, apparently.
ChapterThree
Prudence
“What the hell happened to you?”Laura, my best friend, boss, and owner of The Shop on the Squaresays the second I limp in the front door of her boutique. The one that specializes in everything from home décor to jewelry to shoes.
She opened the place right out of college with some money her grandmother left her. It was her dream to own a store, so she found a building in the square of this mid-sized town and just did it. It’s evolved into what it is now because she started out selling candles and knickknacks, but over the years, she’s added more and more.
She’s even expanded the shop itself, buying the building next door to add to her square footage. That was where I came into the picture. When I told her I was done with Travis, that I was filing for divorce, she was thrilled because she’s always thought Travis was the douchebag of the century, and she’d know because we all went to high school together. I’ve known Laura since first grade but Travis moved to town in tenth grade so we didn’t know him as long.
Anyway, when I told her I was done, she offered me a job helping her run her new, much larger shop. I jumped at the chance because I needed a fresh start, and that included being as far away from Travis, the jackass, as possible.
Wait… I don’t want to talk about him. Not right now.
It’s been nearly eight months since I moved to Oakbrook, and I haven’t regretted a second of it. Well, maybe one second, like the one today where I wiped out on my new bike and made a total and complete ass of myself in front of the motorcycle jerk.
“I wrecked Baby Blue thanks to those stupid flucking toe clips.”
Laura covers her mouth in an attempt to hide her laugh, but I know what she’s doing.
“Don’t you dare laugh. It’s all your fault.”
“Myfault?” she’s smirking. “How is you being a klutz my doing? But…” She raises both her hands and claps, which confuses me. Is she clapping because I hurt myself? She’s such a witch sometimes. “I’m happy that you were out on your bike. And bright and early too.”
She’s right. I set out on my ride at about 7:30 this morning since I didn’t have to be at work until eleven. “I like riding early.” I roll my eyes. “Or I did until this happened.”
“I told you to practice.”
“I did.” I swear to you. I did exactly as she and the guy at the bike shop instructed me. I put the bike in a doorway and sat it on while holding myself upright and practiced unclipping my feet over and over. “It’s just when it came to actually doing it while I was riding, it didn’t work.”
“Oh, Pru.” Laura sighs. “It happens to everyone until you get used to them.”
“You––why didn’t you say that before?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
