“It's the way he does it. Gentle yet forceful.”
Brad nodded. “It's like being beaten with a foam roller.”
“So, you’re staying around for a bit, Brad, to see what's the deal with the Buchanan place?”
“Maybe.”
“Ethan's flying some of us in. We thought we'd see what's what and make sure nothing’s happening. We don't want these bastards getting a jump on us. So if you're around, we'd be happy for you to join us, especially now you got the shorts for it.”
“Sure, maybe.”
DJ O'Donnell was back, with the gray shorts this time.
“Mac put you on a retainer yet?”
“Working on it, Newman,” the Irishman said.
Brad found himself at the counter soon after with his purchases, which now included a pair of gray shorts.
“I'll bag those jeans for you,” the proprietor said.
“Sure, thanks.”
When he was outside on the doorstep of the general store, he looked skyward.
“What the hell just happened?”
“It's the place, man. People just kind of step into your life. You'll get used to it, and believe me when I say that it's all well-meaning.”
Newman fell in beside him as Brad started walking. He stopped outside a women's clothing store.
“Macy owns this?” Brad saw her name on the sign.
“Yup, you want to come in and help me fix up some shelves for her?”
Looking through the door, he saw Macy serving a customer. She wore her hair pulled back today, and her head was lowered as she concentrated on bagging the customer's purchase.
“I better get back.”
“To what?”
“Stuff,” Brad said, even as his feet followed Newman inside, then stood to one side until the customer had left. Looking around, he noticed the store was full of things, clothes and accessories everywhere.
“Hey, you two.”
“Macy.” Newman kissed her cheek. Brad just nodded, and pushed his hands into the pockets of his new shorts and tried not to stare. She hadn’t met his eyes yet, and he knew she was uncomfortable with him there.
“You want me to fix those shelves today for you?”
She wore a short, tight skirt in red, and another floaty blouse that sat off the shoulders exposing the soft, creamy skin of her upper chest and arms. Strappy red sandals finished the outfit, and he noted the polished red toes. Her nails were small, and he had the ridiculous urge to drop to his knees and touch them.
“I told you I was fine, Newman, so you don't need to worry.”
“About what?” Newman looked puzzled.
“I shouldn't have said anything,” Macy muttered, shooting Brad a look.
“Yes, you should.” Newman was suddenly serious. “It's how this little thing called friendship works.”
