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I helped him off the table and out to the truck. Nacho had to sniff him up and down to make sure he was still all in one piece. When we started down Main Street, Cooper pointed out the little white house with the blue door. “Let’s stop in there.”
“I want to get you home.”
Cooper flapped his hand at me. “I feel fine. The place where she did the stitches is still numb. Please?”
I pulled into the gravel lot behind the house and helped him out of the truck. “It’s just a cut,” he muttered when I insisted on keeping an arm around his waist. “I’m hardly dying.”
“Yeah, but it’s my fault you got hurt, so I’m going to take care of you.”
Cooper stopped and turned to me. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I left the damned tripod there instead of putting it somewhere safe.”
“Isaac, it was safe. It was resting on the counter. It wasn’t sticking out or anything. I saw something move out of the corner of my eye and flailed. That’s what knocked it into a position to gouge me. Nothing about this was your fault. Besides, it was an accident. It doesn’t need to be my fault either. No fault, okay. Just… one of those things. Dumb luck. Now I’m all patched up and about to become some kind of gay interior-decorating master.” He narrowed his eyes at me and took a deep, dramatic breath. “Fear me, Isaac Winshed. For I will wield all the frou-frou magic in my power once I have… someone else’s ideas.”
We continued walking toward the building, this time only holding hands. “You kind of petered out there at the end,” I teased.
“I really don’t know my ass from an occasional table, Nine. We’re probably in trouble.”
Well, we certainly knew anything he came up with would be better than anything I picked. “You’ll do fine. I have faith in you.”
When we entered the little shop, a bell over the door tinkled and a blond-haired man popped his head up from behind the counter. “Welcome to the Nickerie. I’m Norman; let me know how I can help. Are you looking for anything special today?”
Cooper studied the man. “Your name isn’t Nick?”
“No. Is yours?”
18
Cooper
Nine and I stared at the guy for a beat until he laughed.
“Nicki is my wife. Seriously, gentlemen, what can I help you with? You’re those videogrammers, right? Is that the word?”
Being recognized for the second time today really brought home the subscriber numbers we’d been noticing. The numbers were skyrocketing, but until being recognized around this tiny town, it had only been an abstract statistic. It felt strange, but exciting.
“Vlogger,” I corrected. “But yes, that’s us. We were hoping to find some home decor magazines or books if you have them.”
I looked around the store and realized it was all very old-fashioned country. The place was packed to the brim with knickknacks, enough to make my skin crawl with unexpected claustrophobia. Apparently, I did have a preferred aesthetic—who knew?
“Sure, right this way. Nikki keeps the periodicals in a rack in the candle room.”
Of course she did. Who wouldn’t?
We followed him through the crowded house to a little room full of more stuff, most of it flammable.
“Thanks,” Nine said in an apparent attempt to release the man from his duty and free up some space in the tight quarters.
Once he left, Nine leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Norm and Nicki’s Nickerie? Really?”
I smiled and leaned back into him, enjoying knowing he was close while I still felt hurt and more vulnerable than I liked. He was such a steady presence, warm and strong, that I felt completely cared for when he was near. It was spoiling me. I knew better than to get used to this, but it was also nice to have a break from always being the one in charge. When I was with Isaac, I could let go.
“Hm,” Nine said in the same low voice. “How to Decorate on a Dime.”
I reached for the one next to that. “Flea Finds For Less.”
“Country Tweaks from Grandma’s Attic… these are not what we’re looking for, are they?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Don’t think so. Let’s see…” I reached over to a more modern-looking magazine. “Millennial Minimalism to Fit Any Budget.”
“Let’s just grab one of each and hit the road. Maybe we can find something good in them. Plus, it’ll give you something to do while you’re laid up. And you can browse online too. Delia uses that corkboard site. We can ask her for help.”
I looked over my shoulder to see his sweet eyes filled with serious concern for me. “I’m fine,” I said softly.
Nine searched my face, obviously assessing my pain level. “Please let me take you home and put you in bed. I won’t be okay until you’re off your feet for a little while.”
