Free The Magic in Your Touch by Sara Bell

same guy who trashed your apartment. Atlanta P.D. has no record of a Detective Wade, and neither do the surrounding counties.”
“Did the apartment manager tell him anything?”
    “No. One of our deputies briefed him about giving out information on you. The manager was able to record the call on his answering machine, but I’m afraid the recording isn’t very clear. Before we go to lunch, I’d like for you to go by and listen to it anyway, just in case.”
“Whatever you think is best, Bran.”
    Nate stood up and grabbed his jacket. As they were leaving the office, Brandon said, “Before I forget, Grandma wants us to come to dinner two weeks from Sunday after church. The whole family is going to be there.”
“Are they all like her?”
     
“No. Most of them are worse.”
     
* * *
    Listening to the recording proved to be a waste of time, just as Brandon suspected it would. Even though the tape was garbled, it was clear that the caller was using some kind of device to disguise his voice. Nate actually took it better than Bran probably would have. He just shook his head and walked out of the office.
    Brandon drove them to Hailey’s Café for lunch. As usual, the place was packed. Hailey Johnson, the owner, was an old school friend of Bran’s. She was also one of the best cooks in the county. The four-star food was no match for the spectacle provided by the handsome sheriff and the mysterious new doctor, though. The minute Brandon and Nate walked in, all eyes were focused on them.
Nate said, “Do I have something in my teeth?”
    Brandon laughed as the waitress seated them and went to get their drinks. “Malcolm Davis over at the Reed Dailey Courier did a three page write up about the attack on you, complete with pictures of your apartment and office. The idea was to show that the folks here in Reed are not going to tolerate gay bashing. I think all it really did was make everybody in town want to know more about you.” Nate glanced up from his menu. “I knew word had gotten out somehow. My office was packed this morning.”
    Brandon was just about to say something when their drinks arrived. Instead of being brought out by Selena, the waitress who took their order, the drinks arrived by way of Shane, a twenty-one-year old stud who’d been eyeing Nate since the minute they walked into the restaurant.
    Shane flashed his perfect teeth in a brilliant smile that made his dark green eyes crinkle at the corners. His hair was a lighter shade of blonde than Nathan’s, gelled into tousled order. From where Bran was sitting, it was obvious Shane was on the make.
    “Afternoon, Sheriff,” he said in a husky voice that made Brandon grit his teeth. “Here’s your coffee. I know you take yours black, but I wasn’t certain about your friend, so I brought milk and sugar just in case.”
“He takes his black, too.” Brandon did his best to keep the irritation out of his voice, but it was getting damn hard to do.
     
“So what can I get for you, Sheriff?”
     
Brandon ordered his usual: a BLT, fries, and a glass of sweetened ice tea. Then it was Nate’s turn.
     
“So what can I get for you. . .I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
     
Nathan extended his hand. “I didn’t, but it’s Nathan. Nathan Morris.”
    Shane shook Nate’s hand a little bit longer than necessary to Brandon’s way of thinking. “I’m Shane Haskins. You’re the new doctor everybody’s talking about. I heard you were cute, but no one told me you were such a babe.”
Much to Brandon’s disgust, Nate actually blushed. “Uh, thanks. I. . .I think I’ll have the same thing Bran is having.”
     
Shane said, “Good choice,” but made no move to leave the table. “So, I guess you haven’t had a chance to get to know many of the folks here in Reed, what with being new in town and all.”
     
“Not really, no.”
     
“Well, if you aren’t busy Friday night, maybe you’d like to—”
     
“Shane, do you think you could put