Page 15 of The Long Game

When asked, Grady happily confirmed—again—that his schedule would allow him to attend all the hockey clinics. He didn’t think Jack was conscious of how his thumb kept sweeping over Grady’s knuckles, but it was a safe bet everyone else in the room noticed.

Barnaby looked distressingly hopeful, which meant Grady might finally have to talk with him and Travis about their unsubtle matchmaking. Garrick, on the other hand, looked utterly exasperated. Grady wondered what was up with that.

When they’d finished their beers, Garrick started cleaning up. Even though it meant relinquishing Jack’s hand, Grady rose to help and followed Garrick into the kitchen.

Garrick spoke in a low voice. “We need to get Jack’s truck and settle our dinner tab. Thank god Sandy was working. I told her we had an emergency and she told me to come back when I could.”

Grady was relieved their abandoned dinner bill wouldn’t be an issue. “I can help with that.”

“No,” Garrick said. “I think one of us should stay here.”

“I’m sure Barnaby wouldn’t mind.”

Garrick looked like a man trying very hard not to roll his eyes. “I’m sure he wouldn’t, but since his car is also back at Quigley’s, it makes more sense if he comes with me.”

Grady opened his mouth to point out it didn’t, in fact, make that much more sense, but then closed it again. He wanted to stay with Jack, so why argue? If he left the house at all, he’d be tempted to search for John Babcock. And if hefoundhim, he’d—

“You good?” Garrick asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Grady sighed. “I just wish I could do more. Usually when shit falls apart, Jack is the one out fixing everything while the rest of the world spins their wheels.”

Garrick chuckled. “True. At least we can return the favor this time. He’s retrieved my car more than once.”

That was the thing about Jack. He’d rescued cars or keys or wayward siblings and spouses and friends and who the hell knew what else for almost everyone in this city. If the rule was six degrees of separation from the rest of the world, then Jack probably had no more than two degrees from every single person in New Brunswick.

“What are you guys talking about?” Jack asked as he poked his head through the door.

Garrick jumped guiltily.

Grady shot him an unimpressed look before facing Jack. “Just making a plan to get your truck back.”

“You guys don’t have to do that. I can—”

“Nope,” Garrick said cheerfully, cutting Jack off. “Barnaby and I are going right now and you’re staying here.”

Jack made a face at his dear oldtactlessfriend.

Grady grinned. It was hard not to like Garrick.

Barnaby was waiting by the door, holding out a hand for Jack’s keys while Garrick promised they’d be back shortly. As soon as the door shut behind them, Jack threw the deadbolt and slumped against the door.

“You good?” Grady asked. Despite his concern, he didn’t soften his voice. Jack wouldhateto be babied.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Grady arched an eyebrow and followed Jack back into the living room.

Jack huffed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I suck at this.”

“At what?” Grady asked. He considered his usual chair, then sat on the couch again.

Jack returned to the spot next to him.

“Talking about shit.Obviously,” Jack said, his laugh self-deprecating. “You’ve probably noticed that before now.”

“It’s come to my attention,” Grady allowed with a smile. “But you know I’ll always listen.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully while his hand brushed back and forth over his sternum. He’d recently developed the intensely distracting habit of rubbing his own chest and belly, and Grady assumed it was divine retribution for thinking about Jack while he jerked off in the shower.

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