Page 6 of Nicks and Cuts

Which led to the memory of Shannon saying his palm was too rough for a hand job. He clamped his teeth together, trying to stifle the embarrassment, but he failed, and heat spread across his chest and up his throat. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Shannon grinned and winked. “No one regrets me.”

Dante bit back the growl that wanted to form because it might’ve come out more like a groan. He was damn sure plenty of people had regrets that involved Shannon. Guys like him never stopped to look back at the trail of devastation they left.

He’d been one of them once. Not openly out the way Shannon was, but he hadn’t cared who he slept with. On deployment, what happened overseas stayed overseas, and as long as the guy’s wife never found out, it was all good, right?

Until it wasn’t.

No wife wanted to find out that her husband had a boyfriend while he was away. And the husband hadn’t been able to live with the fallout, though that wasn’t the official reason his body was shipped home in a body bag. It had been pure luck that no one knew he’d been the boyfriend. After that, Dante kept his dick in his pants on bases both at home and out of the country.

He was not going to be the reason someone’s life fell apart.

But when Karma was serving, there wasn’t an option to step out of the meal line. Three months later, he’d woken up in a hospital in Germany. He hadn’t even been sent home yet, though it was clear that was his next stop, when he got the call that upended his life completely.

“If that’s true, what are you doing in Foggy Basin?” It wasn’t the kind of place people came to because they were looking for a good time or a fast life. It was a small town where everyone knew everyone, the good and the bad. It attracted artisans and craftspeople and people who craved a bit of space to breathe.

“Do you want the quick answer or the long answer?”

He wanted the full answer, not the glossy brochure that left out the ugly scars that everyone had, even if they didn’t wear them on their skin, but he had to finish cleaning up the workshop and prep for tomorrow. “I’d like the truth.”

“Do I get to ask the same question and get an honest answer?”

Dante pressed his lips together. He should’ve expected that. He was surprised Shannon hadn’t heard all the gossip about the old riding school before coming out here. Or maybe he had, and he wanted to hear it from him. “If you’ve got time to waste, we can talk while I sort out the workshop.”

“I’ve been working night shift for the last three nights, so I am wide awake.”

And far too perky, but then Dante had been up since five in the morning and spent the best part of the day guiding a group of five through the process of creating their own blade. Tomorrow, they’d put a handle on it. “Okay…just remember the first rule.”

Shannon frowned. “No hooking up?”

Dante glared at him. No hooking up wasn’t usually a rule he needed, and he suspected he’d made it more for himself. “No touching.”

Shannon lifted his hands and then tucked them both into the back pockets of his jeans. “Lead the way.”

CHAPTER

FOUR

The workshop had a smell to it. Metal and wood and something else. Shannon took a seat on one of the stools so he didn’t accidentally touch something he shouldn’t—he understood as he felt the same way about people touching his ambulance setup. On the table, several half-made knives were laid out with people’s names on masking tape next to them.

A box of sticking plasters and the first aid kit sat at the other end. “Do people often hurt themselves doing this?”

“Most people get blisters because they aren’t used to the work. There’s a lot of heating and hammering involved on the first day. The second day is more about wood turning to make the handles nice. And if they get that done, they can make a chopping board to go with it.”

“Nice. It obviously pays pretty well…or did you get a payout from your injury?”

Dante laughed and shook his head. “I asked you first, remember?”

Yeah, he did, which was why he was hoping to distract and deflect for a little. “True, but it’s pretty boring. My family is all in LA. My ex is also in LA.” He wanted Dante to join the dots.

Dante, however, was wiping down the tables, as if he had no intention of interrupting.

Shannon sighed. “I was tired of everything. The breakup was several months in the making. I got tired of picking up the bills while he chased his big break and worked odd jobs. Maybe that makes me selfish.” His ex had said as much. “And I should’ve supported his dream, but when the support only goes one way it’s exhausting. At some point, I realized I’d been dating the same people since I started dating and I couldn’t do it anymore, I was done. Done with the perfect veneers, fake tans, and the incessant hope that everything is going to work out.”

Saying it out loud made him seem like an even worse person. He scuffed his foot in the dust on the floor. “I know that makes me sound bitter or jealous or something.”

Dante shrugged. “You sound burned out.”