Page 211 of Scatter the Bones

His eyes dart back to Jigsaw. “How the hell did you two get together?”

Jigsaw growls low in his throat, the sound warning and dangerous. “What’s that tone implying, son?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Griff says, all swagger and sunshine. “I’m outright asking,” he says with all the confidence of a man who just won his first pro fight after everyone said he didn’t stand a chance.

Jigsaw works his jaw from side to side, probably deciding where to punch Griff first.

I jump in before testosterone starts flying. “We met at a wedding,” I offer, keeping it simple. “I accidentally ate a pot brownie. It knocked me on my butt and Jigsaw was kind enough to watch over me.”

Griff shakes with laughter. “Had to be Teller’s wedding and Sparky’s brownies, right?”

“That’s the one.”

Griff glances at Jigsaw again. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you.”

“You’re about two seconds from getting the last surprise of your young life,” Jigsaw mutters, voice low and flat.

Griff rolls his eyes. “I came over to thank you for having my back in Vegas, but I’m starting to rethink my gratitude.”

Jigsaw’s shoulders lose a fraction of their tension. “You’re welcome.”

Griff reaches out and clasps Jigsaw’s shoulder. “Seriously.” He flicks his gaze to Rooster. “Both of you. Thanks for sticking with Molly while I was busy training. Appreciate it.”

Jigsaw nods. “Not a problem.”

“Griff!” someone shouts.

“Come on. Join the party.” Griff waves and jogs toward the picnic benches.

“Why are you so hostile to him?” I ask after Griff’s out of hearing range.

“Who?” Jigsaw lifts both eyebrows, the picture of mock innocence. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

He shrugs. “Told you—I’m not a nice guy. Only one I’m nice to isyou.”

Rooster bobs his head in agreement. “And Shelby. You’re definitely nicer to her than you are to me.”

“Shut your bearded piehole.” Jigsaw clamps a clawed hand over Rooster’s face.

“Proving my point.” Rooster flings his arm out, knocking Jigsaw’s hand away.

Shaking my head, I slip my hand from Jigsaw’s and march ahead, lifting a hand to wave at Shelby.

Heavy footsteps slap over the asphalt behind me.

Two seconds later, thick arms lock around my waist, hauling me off the ground. I squeal as he spins me in the air.

“Where do you think you’re going, little lady death?” he growls against my ear, voice rough with laughter.

I kick and squirm, laughing too hard to put up much of a fight, even as his iron grip keeps me caged against his chest.

He sets me down and pats my ass, taking my hand again.

Still laughing and only a tiny bit embarrassed everyone saw me shrieking like a nutjob, I follow him into the closed-off patio area.

The table Shelby’s sitting at is full, so I say hi to everyone, then join Jigsaw at the next table. Shelby extracts herself from the picnic bench and slides into the space next to me, slinging her arm around my shoulders. “How are you?”

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