A Clean Break (Gay Amish Romance Book 2) by Keira Andrews Page A

aisle, pushing a shopping cart. She smiled absently.
    “Excuse me, I just need to…” She pointed to the rack behind David.
    “Of course. I’m sorry.” His heart fluttering, David scurried out of the way. He and Isaac hadn’t even been touching, but he felt sure she knew .
    Isaac moved as well, and they both examined the packages of socks and underwear intently. Once the woman wheeled her cart around the corner and disappeared, David exhaled.
    “David,” Isaac whispered. “Look at this.”
    The package of the underwear called briefs—a value pack, which sounded like a good thing—proclaimed NO RIDE UP , whatever that meant, and featured a photo of a man’s lower body.
    And the man’s very big bulge against the tight white cotton.
    “How can they show a picture of…” Isaac waved a hand at the package. “ That? Where everyone can see it?”
    “It’s normal to them.” David couldn’t help but enjoy looking at it. He gazed around. All the men on the packages had tanned skin and flat stomachs, their thighs muscular. “Briefs look…” Sexy .
    “Snug?” Aaron said behind them. He held out their coffees. “We should buy some underwear first so you can try on pants.”
    David sipped his coffee, sighing as the hot bitterness flowed down his throat. Just smelling the familiar aroma made his headache fade. He watched Aaron plucking a variety of packages from the display. “We need to keep track of everything you’re spending on us.”
    “I really don’t want you to worry about that, but if it makes you more comfortable I’ll file away the receipts,” Aaron replied. “Nothing here is expensive, so you can try different styles and see what you like.” With his arms full of underwear he nodded toward the end of the aisle. “Come on. Check out the men’s section while I buy these.”
    They watched Aaron go, weaving easily around the tables and racks of clothing, where garments dangled from vain hangers that were forbidden in Zebulon. A new song about blowing a whistle blared, and David took in what seemed like an acre of choices. He hadn’t been in a big store like this since he was a kid in Red Hills and they’d visited the Walmart once in a while.
    Other shoppers milled around the store, confidently pushing their carts along the aisles. Target seemed to sell just about everything, from food to clothing to lawn mowers. It was certainly far grander than the highway grocery store near Zebulon.
    Isaac glanced around uneasily. “How do you even know where to start? There’s so much.”
    “I don’t know.” David looked down at the jeans and hoodie he was wearing. “June bought my English clothes for me.” He drank more of his coffee, clutching the paper cup as though it was some kind of anchor. “Okay. We like T-shirts, right?” He pointed to a table covered in folded cotton.
      As he caught their reflection in one of the long mirrors nearby, he thought about the night before in their room, and a thrill sparked through him like a flame to tinder. David couldn’t wait to get back there. He wanted to hide away with Isaac for days.
    But he couldn’t, and as he poked through the dizzying sea of clothing—and this was only what to wear —his headache returned. His stomach churned as he remembered the letter he needed to write. On the bus ride he’d pushed it out of his mind with silent promises that he’d write Mother as soon as they arrived. But now it was his second day in San Francisco.
    “How about this?” Isaac asked, holding up a pale blue shirt with buttons up the front. “Except for the buttons, I guess it’s kind of Amish looking. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
    “I don’t know either.” David pushed a hanger aside on a rack of thin sweaters. He rubbed the material between his fingers. It didn’t feel like wool. What am I going to say to Mother? Will she even read it? Running a hand through his hair, he sighed.
    “Are you okay?” Isaac’s eyebrows