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I’d also packed up the extremely expensive leftover “I hate gay people” shirts and tried to hide the evidence deep in the bowels of the storeroom under other boxes that looked like they hadn’t been touched since 1974. And for my efforts, I knocked over an old tripod, then tripped and fell on it, breaking off one of its legs, and it tried to stab me in the thigh. Whatever. I could buy Red a new one if he really needed it, but I doubted he did. The tripod looked older than the rest of the junk in the back room and had been covered in cobwebs. Whatever Red used it for, it probably wasn’t even compatible with modern technology.
Rye thought for a minute, chewing on the end of a ballpoint pen with Red’s slogan “Hike it Red Wild Style.”
It reminded me how dumb the slogan was, but it got me thinking about style.
Red had none.
I looked around the store. I had no idea when Red had opened it, but the customer-facing part looked like it hadn’t been updated or reorganized in a decade at least. The place was a scrambled mess. He sold clothing for different outdoor activities, but the racks were spread out everywhere. There should’ve been a designated clothing section, just like there should’ve been a designated camping section, a fishing section, and a gun section. I could’ve done without the last, but still. It seemed stupid to me that the guns were displayed on one wall and the bullets were in a case all the way at the other end of the store. That made no sense. When people walked into The Red Wild Outdoors looking to spend their hard-earned money, they needed to be able to find things easily.
I could help with that, and the fact that it might make Red mad if I rearranged his store only spurred me on and got my organizational juices flowing faster.
* * *
Abey walked into the shop at 4:45.
Rye and I had been working all afternoon on our restructuring plan, and we hadn’t had any customers since lunchtime, so both our heads popped up when the bell on the door clanked and jingled.
“Abey Lee!” A wolfish grin broke out over Rye’s face, and he took three big strides across the store to hug her, lift her straight off the floor, and twirl her in a circle. “How you doin’, baby girl? It’s so good to see you.”
“Rye!” She grunted, trying not to smile and holding onto her hat. “Put my ass down. I’m packin’ two guns, not to mention a Taser and pepper spray.”
“Oh, ho, ho, you’re the big woman on campus.” He set her on her feet, and she glanced at me over her shoulder. She tried not to smile, but Rye had a way about him.
I was kind of surprised all the single ladies in town hadn’t stopped in to flirt with Rye. The two female tourists who had come into Red Wild and shown an interest in the rugged, good-looking sporting goods salesman, with a smile I knew could make panties melt all over town, had been shot down quickly. He had been polite, but it was easy to see his interest was elsewhere.
Interestingly, he watched every time Aubrey George walked past Red Wild on her way to work, sometimes during her lunch breaks, and every evening on her way home. He never asked about her or said anything, apart from his first day here, but each time, I watched the way his whole face lit up. He still hadn’t talked to her, though, at least not that I’d noticed. There had to be history there. I didn’t know what it could be, but I bet it was juicy. It wasn’t my business, though, unless he brought it up.
Besides, I had my own shit to figure out.
Finally, Abey gave up the fight. She grinned at Rye, and her brilliant smile and the color blooming across her pale cheeks caused a reaction in all my secret spots. They warmed and tingled, but then I remembered what I’d said to her the last time I’d seen her and what she’d accused me of.
Her attention was pulled back to Rye when he slung an arm over her shoulders, and she punched him playfully in the ribs. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“Just came to help,” he said.
“I haven’t seen you in forever. How’s your dad?”
“He’s good. He’s old, but he’s still workin’ the ranch. He’ll never die. He’s got plenty of help this year, so I was able to come help Uncle Red.” Rye made a face. There was more to that story too. He seemed fine about helping his uncle, so maybe the look of grumpiness had been about his dad or their ranch.
Abey laughed, and it was the softest thing I’d ever heard come out of her mouth, like the warm ringing of a windchime in the afternoon sun. “Tell him I said hello, will ya?”
I’d always thought she was hot, since the first time I’d seen her, before I even knew she was a lesbian, but in the moment, with that rosy blush spreading across her cheeks, making her blue eyes sparkle, she was beautiful.
Absolutely stunning.
Even though I knew how tall she was, I marveled at her height every time I saw her. Probably ’cause I was about the same height as a fifth grader. I was obsessed with the color of her hair too. Having naturally black hair all my life, I’d always been a little jealous of blonds. Jealous of the variation of color in her subtle highlights. Her white-blond curls made me want to twirl them around my finger, but she wore a hat so much that it tamped down the curls and turned them into subtle waves. But when it was hot and humid like today, those shorter wisps framing her face curled and twisted underneath the brim of her hat. I’d never seen anything more adorable.
Her hair had grown a bit since our night together, but every time I’d seen her since, I had been complaining about Red or whatever else and hadn’t noticed. Today, it fell down her back to her shoulder blades. She hadn’t pulled it back into the low ponytail she usually wore.
No. Today, her hair lay loose, free, and gorgeous.
She pulled the hat off, shook her hair out a little, and ran her fingers through it, and I wanted to touch her, just to know if the blush on her cheeks made her skin warm. I wanted to see if it spread beneath her work shirt, wanted to follow it with my tongue. How far down did it go?
Looking back up into her eyes, I wanted to kiss her. Who cared if she wasn’t out? I mean, did I really?
“Devo.” She nodded in greeting finally, pressing her lips together, and Rye looked at me, then back at Abey. She cleared her throat, and it was the first time I noticed the long column of her neck. It was sexy and smooth, and logically, I knew it led down to cleavage, but she’d never let it show when she was working.
It didn’t stop me from imagining moving my lips over the soft skin there and lower, taking in an eyeful, and hopefully handfuls, of her ample breasts. Just seeing them hidden beneath her shirt, and probably a restrictive sports bra, turned me on.
