Page 11 of R for Rough

I…what?

“Acted what way?” I had to know.

He cleared his throat. “Act is the wrong word. How youare. Your love for small towns, your passions, your opinions… Whatever.” He made a face and averted his gaze again. “When he and I got together, he sang a different tune. He wanted to live here, he wanted to be more carefree, he wanted me to teach him to fish, he…” He waved it off. “Doesn’t matter. It was all bullshit.”

Okay, so…

I scratched the side of my head, and I had to look around us. Was I being pranked?

“I observed you at work,” he went on quietly. I snapped my gaze to his, like a rubber band refusing to stretch farther. His stare was still unreadable, but it was intense as fuck. “You pissed me off because you made me lose my energy to fight for him.”

Whoa.

“Uh—”

“No, not like that,” he cut in. “I wasn’tsupposedto fight for him, but I can be stubborn. And seeing you running around at Coho, all playful and getting along swimmingly with everyone—it made me bitter, all right? Because you were everything he claimed he wanted to be, and it made me realize…I don’t know.But whatever we had was never as real as I’d once hoped it would be.”

I swallowed hard. It felt like I’d just been slapped, but not in a bad way. I shuddered at a cold wind and stared at him. Was he saying that he’dwantedsomeone…like…me?

He took a final drag and then put the smoke out under his boot. “There you have it. I don’t hate you—and we can work together and share the community. But if you don’t mind, I’ll keep my distance.” He put the butt back in the pack. “I won’t get in your way, and you won’t get in mine. Deal?”

Allow me to repeat: “Uh.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he replied firmly. It was clear that he was looking for an exit. Maybe he felt too exposed, and who could blame him? I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard.

Was he shitting me?

Griffin didn’t say anything else. He just went back inside.

But, but, but, but!

What the fuck?!

CHAPTER 4

Tracy Judd

“Doesn’t this changeeverything?” I picked up the next crate of vegetables and placed them on the bench.

“It sure sounds like it,” Alessia responded urgently. “So what did he say after that?”

“Just, like…no, I don’t hate you, Tracy, blah, blah—but if you don’t mind, I’ll be keeping my distance,” I answered. “Then he went back inside the bar, and he didn’t go near me for the rest of the night. He stuck to Ryan and Jameson and a few others, while I was mostly with Madigan and Abel.”

“Dio…” She beamed and put a hand over her heart. “Oh, I’m so happy for you,ciccio!” She threw her arms around my neck, and I laughed, both nervous and frazzled. A combination of feelings I’d struggled with all weekend. “You know what this means, yes? You have to flirt with him.”

I grinned and shook my head, and she eased back. “I don’t want him to go back to glaring at me and calling me punk.”

“Pshh! Helikesyou,” she insisted. “He’s just…” Her expression softened, and I could see the sympathy. She adored Griffin too. “He’s jaded. I think he needs a push.”

Trust me, I’d considered it. Alessia was essentially parroting Abel, so I’d already heard this.

Make a move, man! He clearly wants to hit that!

I wasn’t sure I had the guts to gostraightto flirting, but I did intend to make my presence known when I finished filling out my form. It was Tuesday today, so they had to be returned to Mister Madigan tomorrow. And if Griffin happened to be standing next to me when I added my limits and preferences, maybe he’d feel inclined to show a little interest?

One could hope for a slight reaction, at least. Then we’d see if there would be a next step. If he got angry, the last thing I’d do was flirt. But I did want to find out if there was a possible pressure point that might crack an exterior.

My grandpa had once taught me all about pressure points.

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