Page 7 of Handy

Griff makes a rumbly sound in his throat that I think is supposed to be a laugh. It’s cute as fuck, but not as cute as his full-on wheezy, creaky laugh I got to hear this morning.

“I don’t know all the ins and outs, but it doesn’t usually work like that. They’ll usually cover it unless they consider it due to neglect, like if you saw the leak and didn’t report it before it got worse.”

I groan and flop back dramatically. “Well then I’m fucked, because I saw it and figured it wasn’t a big deal.”

He grunts thoughtfully.

“You don’t have to hang around.”Please, please stick around. “Thanks for hearing my screams and coming to the rescue.”Like a knight in shining armor. Swoon.“But I’m going to lay here and groan pathetically for a while and I don’t require an audience for that.”

Griff makes another one of those not-quite-a-laugh sounds and shuffles his feet, looking around the living room then back at me. After a minute, he grunts again and walks away. Instead of heading for the back door though, he goes towards the front. Ifight the urge to whimper and beg him to come back and watch me groan pathetically on the floor after all. The front door creaks open and I wait to hear it close, but it takes longer than I’m expecting.

Even more surprising, when the door finally does bang closed, it’s followed by the heavy sound of Griff’s footsteps again.

“I’m hoping this is your raccoon and I didn’t just bring a wild animal into the house.” He holds TP up awkwardly with both hands around her chest as she squirms for freedom, her little bell jingling.

“That’s her. Thanks.” I stand up and brush my pants off uselessly, soggy plaster clinging so hard it might as well weave itself right into the denim.

Griff sets TP down and she immediately scurries towards my bedroom where it’s presumably still dry. I’m sure this whole ordeal interrupted her sleep schedule. She’s no doubt going to burrow into my bed and catch up on some sleep so she can spend the night chewing through the drywall in the kitchen like usual.

He rumbles and nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking around again. I don’t even actually know this man, and it’s obvious he’s not the most social person alive, but he came running when he heard me scream and he made sure TP was safely inside instead of just leaving me to deal with it. I’m going to blame the emotional trauma of the flood for the fact that I launch myself at him without warning, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his soggy shirt.

He makes a startled sound. He smells like sawdust and his body is so warm and sturdy. We’re about the same height, but I feel weirdly safe in his arms as he awkwardly pats my shoulder, holding himself stiffly for a minute, like he’s trying to get away from me without being rude, before relaxing into the hug. His chest vibrates with a sound too low to actually hear, and for just a few seconds he curls himself around me and purrs like a cat.

Oh my god, bury me in this moment because I am fuckingdead. I force myself to let go of him before he can decide I’m a total freak, file a restraining order against me, and move far, far away.

“Thanks again.” I drag my hands through my damp hair, no doubt leaving streaks of drywall in it.

He nods, then clears his throat. “If you need help getting this place back in order, I’ve been working construction for twenty years.”

“Seriously?” I grimace and look at the wrecked floors, already starting to swell and warp, and the massive hole in the ceiling. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not.” He shrugs. “As long as you don’t mind that it’ll take a little time, I can come over in the evenings and work on it. I’ll take care of the pipe tomorrow so I can get your water turned back on, and then I can go from there.”

The cost of everything starts running through my head again. I still have a little bit of the money my grandpa left me. Unfortunately, being a park ranger doesn’t exactly pay well, and I was hoping to keep a little bit of a nest egg for emergencies. I guess this is an emergency though.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me pay for your labor with sexual favors, would you?” I’m going for cheeky, but as soon as the words leave my lips, heat rushes through me and I’m sure he can see the flirtation written all over my face. Hey, it works in porn.

Griff makes a strangled sound and then coughs like he’s trying to cover it. “Careful with jokes like that. You have no idea how long it’s been.”

Oh, shit, is this actually going to work? I lick my lips and inch closer again, dragging my index finger over the spot where his wet shirt dips into the cavern of his belly button. He shivers and chokes back a groan but doesn’t move away.

“Is that a yes?” My cock starts to swell as I wait for his answer and my heart thunders wildly.

I figured he would give me a gruff ‘no’ and leave, but if I actually have a shot, I don’t mind tipping the scales a little. I inch my finger lower, trailing it over the soft bulge of his belly until I reach the button of his jeans. I tease and flick it the same way I did with his belly button. His green eyes darken, holding mine as his breathing speeds up and his nostrils flare.

“Okay,” he growls, then he grabs my wrist and moves my hand away, “I’d better go.”

My cock throbs at the touch, and it takes everything in me not to throw myself at him again. I bite my bottom lip and nod.

“See you tomorrow.”

Chapter 4

GRIFF

My dick has beenhalf-hard since Ledger flung himself into my arms last night without warning. I hadn’t realized until his warm body was pressed up against mine, his hot breath fluttering against the crook of my neck, how long it’s been since I’ve touched another person. Outside of brief pats on the shoulder or back from the guys at work, of course. I shiver and bite back a groan, my cock thickening again and my balls aching at the memory of how good Ledger felt and how nice he smelled, like moss and sunshine and flowers.

My stomach flutters as I pour my morning cup of coffee. Was he serious about his offer? I was going to do the labor for free because why the hell not? It’s not like I have anything better to do in the evenings or on the weekends, so I might as well make myself useful. Is it taking advantage to take him up on it if he’s the one who offered?

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