Page 34 of The Boy from Half Moon

Every time I’d seen him, he’d worn the exact same clothes, and yet the look may as well be camouflage, considering how I’d stopped noticing how he dressed. What he wore to cover a physical work of art didn’t matter. It’s what was underneath that drew my desire.

I wondered if he ever wore shorts or a T-shirt. Probably not. I noticed through the window that he’d unbuttoned his top buttons on the white shirt, deciding then and there that I’d never seen whiter fabric.

The overhead doorbell rang the moment I entered the store. Luke had disappeared into the back before I’d finally built enough courage to get out of the car and enter. I was thirty-two and Luke was nineteen, but I’m the one who’s acting like a teenager.

“You’re here to shop for furniture,” I mumbled, checking my reflection in a free-standing, full-length mirror, mentally adding it to my wish list for my bedroom. Breath, Tate.

Maybe ten seconds passed before I heard Luke stepping through the swinging doors from the backroom. I watched as he looked around, and past, different furnishings, sweeping the room with his blue eyes, searching for the customer he’d heard come in.

“Hello, Luke,” I said, raising my voice to let him know where I was. “Over here.”

Luke came around the free-standing kitchen cabinet I wanted to purchase and stopped dead in his tracks. He appeared shocked to see me standing there. “You came back,” he said. “I didn’t think you would.”

“I’m hoping to finally get some shopping done,” I said. “Your furniture is perfect for my loft.”

He seemed confused for a second. “You live in a loft?” he asked. “Like above a barn?”

His innocence made me laugh, but not in a mean or taunting way. His question was charming and supported my perception of him. He was sheltered and far removed from the crazy world around him.

“A loft is basically just an apartment with a fancy name, so they can charge you more money for it.”

He nodded in understanding, a small grin on his face. “The loft I was talking about wouldn’t fit a man of your sort,” he said. “Plus, it smells real bad.”

He’d referred to my style before, so I knew what he meant by your sort. He often studied me from head to toe when we were around each other. I guessed he may have compared our differences and decided I was different than him in many respects.

“I need some furniture, Luke,” I announced, tapping my hand on the huge cabinet I liked. “And I’d like to start with this piece.”

“That’s a fine choice, sir.”

I tilted my head to side-eye him. “I thought we were past the sirs. Please call me Tate.”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” he asked, hiding his hands behind his back and looking at his feet. “I didn’t figure I’d get to see you again, so I best apologize to you now regarding what I did to your friend.”

The memory of that night and how focused he looked while he gripped Tyler’s hand, bending it back at the wrist, popped into my head again. The person in front of me was absolutely not the same man I’d witnessed through the glass door that night. I hadn’t wanted to rehash that visit, but he’d brought it up, thinking I was mad at him, so why not?

“That was not your fault, and I’m sorry for how my associate acted.”

“He isn’t your friend?” he asked.

“Well, sort of a friend, or an associate, but sort of not, as things turned out,” I admitted, making a meal out of a simple yes-or-no question. “Tyler worked for me then and wanted to show me your store.”

“He comes in often,” Luke said, surprising me with his news. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I’ve been here full time a month now, and I’ve seen him three times already. The others said he came in a lot before I started full time.”

“Wow,” I muttered. “I didn’t know that.”

“He never purchases anything. I thought that was kinda odd,” he admitted. “I have my own thoughts about it, but why do you suppose he stops by so often?”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” I lied, knowing full well why Tyler frequented the store, doubting my reason was anywhere near his. “Maybe he’s saving up to buy one of your beautiful pieces and enjoys looking at them.”

Luke said nothing after my take on Tyler’s drop-ins. I wondered if he was truly that naïve, but then again, he probably was regarding the real reason Tyler was such a regular guest of his establishment.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he acknowledged. “Maybe you can tell him I’m sorry for what I did?”

“You hurt him?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t seen what I’d seen.

“I know you saw me through the door, Tate. You don’t need to make excuses for me,” he said, still shuffling his feet and barely managing to look at me. “Your friend was being inappropriate toward me the last time I saw him here with you.”

“How was that?”

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