Short hair, fit but not too buff, just the way I like them. I see he’s checking me out while I put on my seat belt.We drive off. I tell him how grat...ful I am that he came by. While we drive along, I can see him looking at me when he thinks I don’t notice. He keeps glancing over, and I can tell he’s scoping out at my firm breasts. I keep waiting for him to make a move, but no, he’s a gentleman. Doesn’t say a word.I’m scoping him out too. The car is just crackling with sexual tension. I can’t. A nice-looking one at that, with those large coffee-colored eyes. To me, Cayuse was becoming a partner, maybe a friend. A dab hand in a tight spot no matter what.Someone, almost certainly from No-Name, had painted a black “FUCK YOU” on the white siding of Holy Redemption. On the front wall, facing Market Street. Sometime before the sun came up on Sunday morning. He got the ‘F’ backwards, but it wasn’t hard to work out the sentiment.These days, Reverend Venerable usually had a full house on. More

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