Page 74 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

“He’s,” I paused, cleared my throat of the thickness of my desire, and tried again. “He’s cooperating so far, so he’s allowed to be free.”

“Well, you just let me know if you need someone to wrestle him into the chair for you,” he said, still smiling. “Leondro,” he said, offering me his hand. “But everyone calls me Leo.”

“Caitlin.”

“But everyone calls her Nugget,” Gav supplied, shooting me a smirk.

“Hey, don’t go spreading that around. I’ve been trying to shake that nickname since I was a teenager.”

“Well, Nugget,” Leo said, “aside from handcuffing men to chairs, what do you do?”

“Leo,” Gav grumbled, his voice holding some kind of warning, but I didn’t really understand why.

“I do grant work for a non-profit.” If I still had a job after this ‘extended sick leave’ I’d been taking since the day I decided to hold Gav hostage. But that was a problem for another day.

“That sounds—”

“Tedious?” I supplied. “Monotonous? Bureaucratic? Pick your adjective. They’re all right. But it’s also rewarding in its own way.”

“Which charity—”

“Leo,” Gav barked.

“I work for a disability advocacy group,” I said, shooting Gav a confused look. “We are currently pressuring colleges to be more handicap accessible.”

“Wow. Noble cause.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to know that something good comes out of the work at the end of the day.”

“Leo, what are you doing here?” Gav asked.

“Just checking in on my shut-in brother who was just out of town for days. Make sure you’re not going through some sort of existential crisis.”

I knew that brothers teased each other, but there was no stopping the surge of protectiveness I felt toward the man who’d been nothing but kind to me.

“Gav was a great road-trip buddy. He even relocated a spider for me at a campground bathhouse.” Gav shot me a soft look at the same time his brother sent me a curious one. “And he only lectured me about fifteen times about the lack of fruits and vegetables in my diet.”

“And protein,” Gav said. “And fiber.”

“Though I think I’m halfway into making him love pumpkin spice lattes.”

“Not a fucking chance,” Gav said, shaking his head. “We were about to head over to see Zeno,” he told Leo.

Something passed between the two men—decades of closeness making speech unnecessary. But I had a feeling it was about my father, about his connection to their organization.

“Well, I won’t keep you guys then. Caitlin, doll, it was nice seeing you again,” Leo said before making his way to the door. “I’ll call you later,” he told his brother.

I hopped down off the counter, feeling like the magic of the moment was gone, even if my body felt achy and needy still.

“Ready to head out?” Gav asked, grabbing his cell and keys.

Despite the rain, we decided to walk the dozen or so blocks to Zeno’s apartment, both of us sipping our coffee and staying dry under the umbrella Gav held for us.

“Guess who I saw today?” I asked, getting a grunt out of Gav. “That pizza guy I told you about. He looked like he’d been in a nasty fight. Then, when he saw me, he turned and ran. How weird is that?”

“Imagine that,” Gav said, hiding the twitch of his lips behind his coffee cup.

No.