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Noah is still as Louie secures the final buckle across his chest. Fingers linger a moment on the smooth leather before he limps back.
“Snug. Can you still move okay?”
Noah twists, left right, crosses his arms over the vest and then thumbs the thongs holding the revolvers in place. He nods, a smile ghosts across his lips. Louie immediately ducks his head, wipes his palms across the rough wool of his trousers.
“Good. Good.”
A warm hand wraps around the back of his neck.
“Thank you, Louie.”
Their foreheads touch. The moment stretches, breath commingling, and then the shop door closes soundly behind Noah’s deadly straight back.