Page 18 of Handy

“Alright, go ahead and rub the details in my sad, single face.” He grabs a jar out of his bag and hops off the ATV to go get a scoop of the lake water, while I scoff and pick up my clipboard to note the absence of any visible bloom on the surface of the water.

“I’m not giving you details, perv.”

Jericho recaps the jar, shakes the excess water off of his hands, then looks at me with both eyebrows raised.

“Since when are you shy? Last time you were in la-la land over some emotionally closed-off bear, you forced me to listen to every graphic detail about the hour-long rimming session you treated him to.”

I rub my jaw, getting a phantom ache at the reminder of that particular sexcapade, then shake my head. He’s right, I’m usually not so tight-lipped. Not like I go around telling strangers the details of my sex life or anything, but Jericho isn’t exactly a stranger. There’s a weirdly protective feeling in my gut this morning though, and it’s keeping me from spilling all the details about the way Griff trembled so eagerly for every touch and melted for me like he needed the attention more than he needed air. My chest aches and I bite back an impatient groan.

It’s a beautiful day and I get to spend it being paid to drive an ATV around this beautiful state park, but all I can think about is getting it over with so I can spend time with Griff again tonight.

“I know you think I’m just being silly, but I think there’s something special about Griff.”

Jericho labels the jar with the date and location and tucks it into his bag, then gives me a concerned look.

“What?” I already know what, but I’m going to force him to actually say it, not just look at me like I’m terminal or tragically misguided.

He shakes his head and puts a hand on my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

“You’ve got a big heart, Ledgie. I love that about you.”

“Ugh, with the pity that sounds like you’re trying to be nice.” I groan and bat his hand away. “Griffcouldbe different.”

Jericho chews on his bottom lip and I can tell he wants to say something. I can practically hear the gentle lecture brewing on his tongue.

‘You have a type, Ledgie. You can’t just keep going for the same kind of guy over and over and expecting the next one to be different. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.’

I’ve heard the lecture dozens of times, and I always say the same thing back.

‘I’m not going to get hurt. I know what I’m getting myself into. I’ll befine.’

My heart twinges and we just stare at each other for a few seconds in a silent standoff until he offers me a halfhearted smile.

“I hope so, Ledgie.”

Chapter 8

GRIFF

“I thought we werepicking up lunch.” I frown as we cruise right past the sandwich place I have the list of orders for in my pocket.

“We are after a quick detour,” Stone says with a smirk.

I bite back a groan. A detour Stone came up with on the spot? It could be anything from a trip to a petting zoo that will end with us leaving with a truck bed full of goats to a quick stop at the local sex shop so he can buy a dildo to throw at someone. The only thing not on my bingo card is a detour to Ink Slingers.

We pull to a stop in front of the tattoo shop and my frown deepens.

“A ‘quick detour’ to get matching tattoos?”

He cackles and turns off his truck. “Maybe next time,” he says, nudging me and nodding towards the shop next door.

Little Shop of Flowers.

My heart rate kicks up.

“What—”

“We’re going straight to the source,” he explains, shoving his keys into his pocket and hopping out.

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