by Wendy Vella
“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.”
He then walked off to inspect a shelving unit.
“What's he talking about?” Brad found himself saying, when what he should be doing was heading out the door.
“It's nothing. I hear you have a new nickname?”
“Do you guys have smoke signals or something?”
“Or something,” she muttered again, returning to the counter. He followed, his eyes doing a survey of the shop.
“Do you actually sell anything in here?”
Her mouth dropped open. “I can't believe you said that.”
“There's stuff everywhere.”
“What the hell do you know about setting up a shop?”
“More than you think, and this is not inviting.” He swept a hand around the room.
Macy found herself following Brad Gelderman around her store for the next few minutes, if only to give him a piece of her mind.
“I'm not taking advice from you, Gelderman. What the hell do you know about women's fashion?”
He was poking about on her racks now.
“Not much, but I know a bit about the right way to lay out a store so it looks appealing.”
Macy snapped her teeth together to stop from growling. Inhaling, she caught the scent of whatever shampoo he'd used this morning. His T-shirt stretched across his shoulders and the shorts showed a long expanse of leg lightly sprinkled with hair. His large feet were clad in sneakers.
“You have a label sticking out the back of your shorts, and for your information, people want to spend time here!”
One big hand reached around the back and pulled hard on the tag. He then stuffed it in his pocket.
“Declan chose them for him,” Newman said.
“He's got a good eye, unlike some,” Macy glared at Brad, who was looking at her scarves.
“How do you know if I have a good eye or not?”
Macy wanted to take a step back as he leaned her way.
“You have that whole biker boy look going on. Scruffy hair, ripped jeans, worn boots and T-shirt. It's hardly a fashion statement,” Macy said, knowing she was lying, because he looked hot as far as she was concerned, but she wasn't letting him know that.
“I wore suits for years, I like this better” was all he said before returning to her shelves.
“I'm sorry, that was rude.”
“Honesty is never rude.”
“I wasn't being honest,” she felt compelled to say.
He turned, just his head, and gave her a slow smile, but didn't say anything else, much to her relief.
“How are people meant to see these tucked away behind the racks of clothes. They should be on display.”
Macy glared at the belts he held in one large hand.
“I've been busy lately, and haven't had time to make changes. Stocks come in and—”
“You only get one shot to hook a prospective purchaser, Macy, and isn't summer your busy season?”
“Always busy here, TJ.”
“You stick to perfecting your pizza sauce,” Brad said to Newman.
“You just need to roll with it. The more you protest, the more they dig their heels in,” Macy told him.
“Roll with what?”
“The locals giving you a nickname.”
“It's a weird kind of parallel universe here, I swear.” He picked up a handful of scarves. “The world as I know it exists beyond the borders of Lake Howling, but once you’re here....”
“Couldn't have worded it better,” Newman said. “I leave often, and step back into that real world.” He was leaning on a shelving unit now, looking relaxed as only Newman could. The man, Macy thought, could look relaxed on a bed of nails. “But then I step back into this life and it's like I'm still thirteen.”
“You being sixty and all, Newman,” Macy joked.
“The point I'm trying to make here, is that we do tend to stand still here.”
“Not over the last few years.”
He nodded at her words. “True, we've had a few intrusions from the outside world.”
“What's happened over the last few years?”
“It would take a week to explain,” Macy said, following him to a set of racks.
“This needs to be better organized, Macy.”
“Okay smartass, what would you do?”
He straightened, and Macy dug her toes into her sandals to stop from taking a step backward. He was close now, and she saw the flare of heat in his eyes as he looked at her.
“You give me some time, and if you don't like it, I'll help you put it back the way it is now.”
Macy shrugged. If he was here, she could look at him, even if it was only for a few more minutes. Sad, pathetic woman that she was, she'd take that time.
He pulled down clothes and threw them on chairs, then moved racks and displays. He enlisted Newman to haul furniture, and then the counter was dragged closer to the door.
“What the hell is he doing?”
Macy, who had stationed herself by the door to intercept customers, smiled at Ethan as he appeared.
“TJ is rearranging my shop with help from Newman. Supposedly, it's not aesthetically pleasing.”
“TJ?”
“Tex junior. Jake came up with it, and Buster is pissed because supposedly he is the nickname supremo.”
“Original.” Ethan grunted, his eyes following his brother. “How the hell would Brad know what was aesthetically pleasing? I didn't even know he knew that word.”
“Damned if I know, and I'll let you know if he has a clue when it's done.”
But Macy could see what Brad was about now, and she had to agree he'd opened her shop up and made it more welcoming. The flow would appeal to a customer stepping in for the first time.
“How do you know what's aesthetically pleasing?”
Brad looked up as Ethan yelled the words at him. She saw the flash of something in the blue eyes before he lowered them and shrugged. His body had tensed with the arrival of his brother.
“Just a hunch.”
This was no hunch, Macy realized. Brad Gelderman knew what he was about.
“Bull.” Ethan moved into the room and grabbed the end of the counter, which Brad had now decided needed to move a few feet to the right.
Brad's shoulders were hunched and he looked guarded.
“I thought you were into property investment with a side of helping people?”
“I have a friend's father who runs a few stores. I invested, but before I did, he made me spend some time in one.”
“What stores?” Newman said.
“What friend?” Ethan added.
Macy could see frustration written all over Ethan’s face. His brother wasn't happy to see him or about sharing any personal information.
“Niall and Leigh.”
Newman whistled.
“Why did you just whistle?” Ethan demanded.
“Niall and Leigh are high-end men's fashion. They have stores in most major cities. Surely you've heard of them, Tex?”
Ethan thought about that for a few seconds.
“Okay, maybe I have heard of them, but what involvement do you have with them?”
“I just told you what.”
“So you do this charity stuff, and are a part-time retailer on the side?”
Macy couldn’t read anything on Brad’s face. He didn't want to talk about this, or Macy guessed, anything personal, and had shut himself off.
“I ride sometimes with one of the Nialls, and he said they were looking for an investor.”
“Was he there when your friend died?”
“Mark,” Brad said. “And no, that day it was just Mark and me.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Macy touched his arm, because losing anyone close was painful.
“It’s okay now.” He shrugged. But it wasn’t, she could see that.
“Me too. Sorry that you had to be there when your friend died, Brad.”
“Sure, thanks.”
Brad had accepted her touch, but not his brother’s.
“You got lots of it?”
“It?” Brad questioned Ethan.
“Money.”
“Some. You?”
“Some.”
“Never use two words when one will do, Macy. Let this conversation be a lesson to you on man talk 101,” Newman stated.
Macy heard her cell phone ring. She didn’t want to answer it, she wanted to stand here and watch this battle of wills that was raging silently between the two Texans, especially Brad. He was trying to keep his distance, and Ethan was trying to break through the walls his brother had erected.
Hurrying through the door that led to the small rear storeroom, she found it in her bag and answered it. After all it could be Billy’s daycare.
“Good morning....” The words trailed off as she heard the deep breathing. Everything inside her went cold as it turned to laughter.
“Like a bit of heavy breathing don't you, Macy. I'm coming for you, wife.”
Two sentences, and suddenly she was back there. Once again the frightened, traumatized woman this man had reduced her to.
“You don't scare me, Brian Delray.” She fought to keep her voice from shaking. He can't hurt you anymore, Macy. Never again. “You’re n-nothing but a pathetic man.”
“Oh you’re scared, wife. You can change your numbers as much as you like, but I have ways of getting to you. I’m coming for you, and then you'll pay for what you did to me, you little bitch!”
Macy's finger shook as she disconnected the call. Dropping the phone to the desk, she then braced her hands on it. She inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
Her ex-husband was a monster. No other word fitted him better than that one. But he was locked away behind bars, so she didn’t need to panic. No need to feel the pains in her chest, or weakness in her knees. His threats were empty now.
“Macy!”
“Coming.” She forced a smile onto her face and headed back out to the shop.
Damn her ex-husband to hell and back. The very place he'd once put her.
“What do you think?”
The words were from Newman, who was standing with Ethan, while Brad stood a few feet away. Alone, like she had once been, but no more, she reminded herself. She had friends now.
She did a sweep of the shop, seeing but not really, as her head was still in the conversation she'd just had with Brian.
“What's wrong?”
Brad had come to stand in front of her.
“Sorry?”
“Something's upset you.”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I'm fine, and I have to admit the shop looks amazing.”
Ethan and Newman moved closer, flanking Brad, forming a wall of beauty before her. Her battered and bruised heart sighed just a little, which made her feel better. This was here and now, her life with men like this in it. Not him, not that monster.
“Seriously, you guys shouldn't stand like that, all that handsomeness in a line is making my weak heart skip a beat.” Macy fanned her face with her hand and forced out a laugh. No one joined her.
“Cut the bull, Mace, who was on the phone?” Newman's eyes, which usually held a smile, looked cold and flat. “Was it Brian?”
She'd never been able to lie, even small white ones, so a huge, ugly, dark one was well beyond her capabilities. Macy nodded.
“Brian the ex?” Brad asked her.
She nodded again.
“What’d he say?” Ethan barked the question.
“‘I'm coming for you, wife.’ I called him pathetic, and he said he was going to make me pay for that.”
The breath whistled out of Newman's mouth, but Brad and Ethan had never looked more like brothers than right at that moment. Blue eyes fixed and focused on her, jaws clenched.
CHAPTER NINE
“This is what Newman was talking about earlier?” Brad asked her.
Macy nodded.
“Get your bag. Newman, you man the shop.”
“What?” Macy looked at Ethan. “Why do I need my bag, and Newman is not manning my shop. I need to make money, not lose it.”
“We're going to talk with Cubby now. He's the sheriff in this town, and he needs to know what's going on.”
“He knows. After the first call, Newman made me tell him.”
“But there have been other calls, haven’t there, Macy?” Newman gave her a steady look, which she refused to be intimidated by. “How many has that asshole made now, and don't lie to us?”
“Four.”
She didn't catch the word Newman used, but knew it wouldn’t have been pleasant.
“So, I know this ex is an asshole, but just not how much of one.”
Macy closed her eyes briefly as Brad spoke. She didn't want Brian to start intruding in her life again, not when she was becoming the person she wanted to be. Strong and resilient, and yes, she could at least think it: she was now a woman who liked physical intimacy.
“Go and get your bag, Macy.”
She knew they would fill Brad in when she left. Knew it, and couldn't do a thing to stop them, because if they didn't do it now, they would later.
“He doesn't need to know this stuff. He's leaving soon, and I don't want my business out there.” Macy waved her hand in the direction that she knew led to the main road out of Howling.
“Yes, because I love to gossip, especially shit like this. Hell of a story over a beer.”
Macy didn't lower her eyes as Brad growled the words at her.
“Whatever,” she said, walking away from the three glowering men. “And I don't know if you like to gossip or not, because I don't know you.” Macy said the words under her breath because she didn't know him, only that his kisses melted her bones, and when he touched her, she'd felt no fear.
When she returned, Brad was looking grim, which suggested Ethan and Newman had given him all the sordid details about Brian.
“Let's go.”
Macy tried to shake off his fingers as they wrapped around her upper arm, but he didn't release her, only softened the grip, and soon she was on the street with the Gelderman brothers flanking her.
“I'm not going to make a run for it. Neither of you need to come with me.”
“Sure we do.”
Ethan’s words were final, and Macy knew she couldn’t battle two Geldermans, so she said nothing and accepted the inevitable.
The sheriff's office was called the Lair, and it was written on a brass plaque above the door.
“The names in this town are weird like the rest of it,” Brad said, looking at the plaque.
“Not weird, quirky,” Ethan said.
Rustic-looking like other buildings in Howling, the Lair looked more like a tourist information center than police station. Walking between the two large wooden pillars, Macy tried not to stiffen up as memories of the time she'd spent in here after Brian had shot Branna filled her head.
“Well, if it isn't the town’s most handsome boy. How you doing, Tex, and this must be your little brother, TJ?”
Maureen had manned the reception desk at the Lair for more years than Macy could remember.
“Aww shucks, Maureen, I'm sure I can't hold that crown for too much longer.”
Macy made a gagging sound as Ethan leaned over the reception desk and kissed the woman on the cheek, making her giggle.
“I told you to get those eyes of yours tested, Maureen. I think they've got a two-for-one special on this week at the optometrist in Brook.”
Ethan shook his head at Macy. “Jealousy is an ugly thing in a woman, don't you think, Maureen?”
But the woman didn't answer, as she was looking Brad over. “You could be right about that crown though, Ethan.”
Ethan clutched his chest and staggered back. “I'm a broke
n man.”
Brad had watched the entire performance with his usual blank expression, although she was sure his lips tilted slightly at his brother's antics.
“Don't feel bad, Ethan, everyone knows that at a certain age your looks start to deteriorate. Present company excluded of course, Maureen.” Brad stepped forward with his soft smile and held out his hand to the woman. “Pleased to meet you, I'm Ethan's much younger brother.” He shook her hand gently.
Ethan snorted, Maureen sighed, and Macy made another gagging sound.
“Cubby in?” Ethan asked.
“Sure, sweetie, you go right on. Katie's in there too.”
“Great, thanks.”
“What the hell color is this?” Brad asked.
“Cantaloupe, from memory. Cubby said something about the previous sheriff's wife doing the decorating. It's certainly not your usual shade for a sheriff’s office is my guess.”
Macy saw Cubby bent over Katie's shoulder when she walked into his office, their heads together as they read whatever was on the computer screen before them. It was a wonderful thing that these two had found each other. They'd had a thing for so long, but both had fought against it. She was glad all that had changed.
“How come the big boss has to stand and you get the desk?” Ethan asked as he and Brad filled up the remaining space in the small office.
“She can type faster,” Cubby said, straightening. “Plus, she's hot to look at.”
He had been the sheriff of Lake Howling for many years now, and was loved and trusted by most of its inhabitants. Well, the ones who usually walked the right side of the law, anyway.
His hair was deep chestnut and he was fit and active, just like the woman he'd fallen in love with.
Katie had the McBride dark coloring and was tall and ridiculously fit, like her man. She'd been a detective in LA, but trouble had sent her home, and here she'd stayed.
“She'd be still hot standing,” Ethan added.
“There's that,” Cubby conceded, “but I also like her looking up at me, sort of puts her in her place.”
“I'll make you pay for that later, Hawker.”
The sheriff flashed a wide smile, showing off a row of gleaming teeth.
“Get used to it, TJ. Insults are how we communicate,” Cubby said when he noted the look on Brad's face.
