Did the mayor bully everyone like this? Or just him? Maybe the rest of the town took it, but Ethan was done.
“I’m doing my best. Just last week, I met two nice young mothers at the park. You remember, you were there. And then there was that friendly visit from Melvin from Animal Control. Wait. You know about that too, don’t you? Since he was delivering a message from you.”
Calloway’s smile twitched. “A word to the wise is never amiss. Better you heard it from me than someone less understanding.”
“Animal Control?” asked Carrie. “What’s going on?”
“The mayor has concerns about my dogs,” said Ethan.
“Not me,” Calloway responded, his hands up. “I’m simply trying to avoid conflict. Big dogs and small children don’t mix and Amanda Frankel is like a mama bear with her cubs. You don’t want her for an enemy.”
“I don’t want enemies, period.” Ethan felt his jaw click. “Like I’ve said before. This is home.”
Clinton chuckled, clapped a meaty hand on Ethan’s shoulder and stepped back. “Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it. You have a good day, now.”
He flashed Carrie a grin, patted her arm and went off, already waving at someone else.
“Let me guess,” said Carrie. “He’s the reason you can’t take your dogs out.”
Frustration burned in him. He might not want enemies, but Calloway clearly intended otherwise.
“He’s not a fan,” he said.
“Of the dogs? Or of you?” Carrie glared in the direction of the mayor. “What did you do to him, anyway?”
Ethan huffed. “Nothing. I don’t know.”
“Then let’s ignore him,” said Carrie, taking him by the elbow and drawing him into an aisle. “He’s an ass. Couldn’t make it in real politics so he’s stuck here. Thinks he runs this town.”
“Unchallenged, I’m guessing. Who’s next? This is fun, growing my fan club.”
Ethan put his hands on the cart handle and squeezed until his knuckles were white. A dull ache arced up to his temple and he forced himself to unclench his jaw.
Carrie huffed. “I’d have expected a thicker skin from you.”
He peeled his fingers off the cart handle, surprised at her words. Surprised and disturbed to find that she was right. This kind of reaction wasn’t like him.
“Out of practice, I guess,” he muttered.
“Well, here’s a few pointers.” She turned to him, her hands on her hips. “Make eye contact. Don’t stand like you’re waiting for a drill sergeant to rap your knuckles. And for God’s sake, smile.”
“I smiled,” he protested.
“Right. Like you had a mouthful of lemons, and you were talking to someone selling used watches.”
Carrie had the sexy schoolmarm thing down pat. A guy could take a lot of righteous scolding from a girl like that.
She tugged him to the side as another shopper made their way past them in the aisle and he found himself surrounded by the fragrance of fresh air and sunshine. Surely that couldn’t be shampoo or fabric softener he smelled. It was too natural-smelling. Too real. It had to be her.
“Over there.” She looked up and the sternness disappeared, replaced by cheerful determination. “Follow my lead.”
She wheeled the cart over to an affable-looking gentleman wearing an orange apron emblazoned with the store logo.
“My favorite hardware store manager,” she called, her voice sweet and flirty. Ethan guessed the man to be on the north end of sixty, but his eyes lit up at her approach.
“Carrie Logan, my favorite girl with a camera.”
He walked out from behind the counter and took her hands in his, smiling down into her eyes. “Pansy told me you’d been having some business troubles. I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“No, no,” Carrie hastened to reassure him. “But it made me realize I need a burglar alarm. My friend, Ethan, here is installing a security system for me. Ethan Nash, this is Scott Norman, owner of this fine store and a family friend since before I was born.”
“Good to meet you, son,” said the older man. His grip was firm and dry. “Any friend of Carrie’s is a friend of mine.”