Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Shane

The general store was their destination. As far as Shane was concerned, it'd be an in-and-out visit, the way he'd always done it. He didn't see why Milo being with him on this particular trip would make that any different.

Shane took a glance around as they pulled into the parking lot. It was quiet. Nobody was making the trek on foot or even risking a drive. With the snow piled up, it wasn't strange to find the town at a standstill. Or see the store empty with no other customers. Shane went straight to the front counter while Milo dawdled to look around at the shelves.

"I need some supplies," Shane huffed as he slapped down a small sheet of paper torn from his measurements notebook.

"G'morning, Mister Harding! I'm surprised to see you back so soon…and see y'all together. Hi there, I'm Jessie Mae. Who might you be?"

Milo stopped his curious browsing. He walked up to the counter and stood close to Shane. Too close. Shane froze in place as Milo beamed beside him.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Milo Dawson. I just got into town. Moved in next door to this big guy right here." Milo's smile shone so bright he could have melted all the snow outside, but it did nothing to chase away the icy grip of fear that'd taken hold of Shane.

Jessie Mae cozied up to Milo's chattiness. "Oh, up on Wildberry? It's beautiful out that way."

Milo might have had city-boy looks but he had small-town manners. He offered his hand out to Jessie and she took it for an enthusiastic shake. Shane watched to see if the combined strength of their sunny dispositions would burn the place down.

"It's wonderful to meet you. So, what are you gentlemen doing today? I'm surprised y'all even made it down here."

Shane didn't fall for the attempt at more small talk. "The supplies," he insisted.

"Okey dokey," Jessie Mae picked up the list with both of her hands and squinted at it. To be fair, Shane's handwriting wasn't the easiest to read. More chicken-scratch than cursive. And he'd always known his numbers better than his letters.

"Um. I'm real sorry, Mr. Harding. I won't be able to fulfill this right now. The storm means deliveries are delayed all over. It could be weeks until we get all this back in stock."

One damn thing after another. Shane's jaw worked side to side and his nostrils flared. He made a sound, something suspiciously close to a growl, as he struggled to swallow his frustration.

"His roof caved in, can you believe that?" Butter wouldn't melt in Milo's mouth. "Shane is staying with me until he gets it fixed."

That grip of fear had claws. Shane turned his head to cast Milo a look of disbelief. What in the hell was the boy trying to do? He should have known better than to blab about Shane's personal business. Nobody needed to know they were shacking up together, even if the shared living arrangements were innocent.

"It really ain't that bad," Shane muttered.

"Oh no, it really is. He's being so brave about this disaster." Milo gave Shane a quick nudge with his elbow. The boy tilted his body to the side and tossed Shane a sly wink before he turned back to fully face Jessie Mae and feed her another spoonful of the sob story. "And I don't mind Shane staying with me, of course, but it is almost Christmas. Can you imagine not being in your home on Christmas morning?"

Shock spread across Jessie Mae's face. "No, I've never been anywhere else for the holidays. That would be so horrible."

"That's not even the most horrible part. When the roof fell in, it destroyed Shane's tree!"

"My goodness," Jessie Mae gasped.

Okay, that was a little too far and a bit too much embellishment. Shane couldn't bear to look at Jessie's Mae expression of anguish. Milo might as well have said Santa had been run over by a sled of reindeer.

"It's fine, really, I can…chop down another tree before Christmas."

"Are you and Pumpkin okay?" Shane cringed at her big, sympathetic eyes.

"We're fine," he answered, "but we'll be much better when I can get my roof fixed."

"Right, yes, of course," Jessie Mae nodded. "Let me make a few calls. I might be able to pull some strings and cash in a few favors. I should be able to have your stuff within a week. Is there anything else I can help y'all with?"

Milo jumped at answering that question. "We need to grab a few things while we're here, but don't mind us."

Shane opened his mouth to tell Milo he'd go wait out in his truck while Milo shopped, but Milo grabbed hold of his elbow. "Show me where the soap is."

Shane, too shocked by how touchy and bossy Milo could be, played tour guide. They went from one end of the store to the other, down every aisle. Milo couldn't take two steps without seeing something he wanted to look at or talk about.

The general store sold a little bit of everything and Milo seemed to need a lot of everything.

Jessie Mae watched them while she was on the phone. Between calls, she offered a basket when their hands got too full. Shane had the honor of carrying it. And goddamn it, he trailed after Milo like a shadow.

"You need new boots." Shane pointed to a rack that Milo passed without a second glance: a selection of winter wear. He stared at the last pair of men's boots left. They were so small that Milo's dainty feet might be the only ones in town that'd fit.

Milo wiggled his nose in displeasure as he looked down at the boots. Shane could have pinched it right off. "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing, it's just they're a little…that's not really my style, you know?" Milo looked down at those loafers. They sure were fancy. And very wet. "I'll get another pair of boots later, somewhere that has more of a selection."

That wouldn't do.

"These are good boots," Shane told him. He grabbed the boots and a pair of socks too. "These shitkickers will keep your feet warm and dry through anything. Thought you liked it rustic?" he called out over his shoulder.

"I think we're done," Shane said as he hauled Milo's haul onto that counter. They had to be done, they'd been there for far too long and bought way too much shit. "You can put the boots and socks on my tab."

Shane had to do something to repay Milo for his generosity and for the little white lie he'd told about Shane's misfortune. It seemed like Milo had a silver tongue to go along with that golden face.

"No, you won't," Milo said directly to Jessie Mae as he plopped down a few more things. "Thanks for offering, Shane, but I got this. I'm hosting you. All you need to do is be a good guest."

Shane didn't know what to say, so he said nothing at all. He only grunted. At least he'd gotten his way with the boots.

"Y'all seem like such good neighbors and the very best of friends already," Jessie Mae chirped with a glimmer in her eyes as she rang them up.

"And we're upgrading to roommates," Milo agreed with a gentle touch to Shane's elbow.

Friends? That word stuck itself into Shane's brain like a sliver. He didn't need friends. Not anymore. Not ever again. He'd learned a bitter lesson on that and had never forgotten the taste.

Milo's sweet introduction into his life wasn't enough to change the bitter past. Though his presence did make the present a little easier to swallow.

Shane didn't need a friend…but he wanted Milo.

As they left the store and returned to the truck, Pumpkin woofed to greet them. Her snout mushed against the cracked window of the passenger door. They hadn't gotten what Shane needed to fix his cabin, but at least they'd gotten some supplies for Milo's house.

And the boots.

They had those boots.

Shane didn't put them into the storage of the truck bed. He grabbed them, along with a towel that was clean enough, and held open the passenger door for Milo. "Sit down," he instructed, "both of you. Pumpkin, back, and you — let me see your feet."

Milo hopped into the seat, but he turned so his legs were poking out of the truck. "What in the world are you doing?"

"Gotta dry your feet first, then you're putting on your new boots. Gonna give yourself frostbite if you walk around anymore like this."

Milo tilted his head to the side and watched Shane, those big beautiful brown eyes gleaming with open curiosity. "You're being awfully nice. Be careful or people might think you're capable of liking somebody."

Or liking Milo, specifically.

Another growl itched at the back of Shane's throat. "Take those worthless things off. Socks too."

Milo outright giggled as he followed Shane's directions. Pumpkin too participated in the proceedings with avid interest. She sat behind Milo and pushed her head through the slot of his arm to watch Shane's work.

He dried the boy's feet for him. Shane did the task with devoted efficiency and ruthless quickness. First the left foot and then the right foot. Milo wiggled his toes when Shane was just about done and let out a bell-like burst of laughter as Shane threw the cloth at him in retaliation.

"Why'd you do that?" Milo asked as Shane rolled on the new socks.

"It needed doing," he answered.

A simple truth, if not the whole truth.

After the socks were on, Shane helped Milo slip his feet into the boots and then tightened them. There. The job was done. Despite the cold, Shane's palms had started to grow clammy. He wiped them off on his jeans as he stood up and took a step back.

"How do they look on me?" Milo asked as he clicked his heels together.

Fashion didn't have shit do with it, the important thing was function, but Shane bit his tongue rather than ruin Milo's fun.

"Looking good." Shane couldn"t fight off the blush that spread across his cheeks.

He tried to tell himself he only complimented the way Milo wore the boots. It had nothing to do with the rest of the boy. Not his sunny smile or his big eyes. Not his slender wrists or delicate bones. Certainly not his dainty feet or plush rump that was all too visible due to the tight fit of those skinny jeans.

Not his…everything else either. The sum total of Milo. Everything that made him a dollop of summer standing strong despite such a harsh start to winter.

"How do they feel?" Shane asked.

"It feels good, feels…right."

Silence followed Milo's declaration. It was a comfortable sound and the realization that came with it was downright cozy.

They weren't only talking about the boots.