Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

“I fucking love it. You—” He rested his head between her shoulder blades, took a deep breath, then whispered something in her ear. A glowing smile appeared on Stephanie’s face just before she spun and threw her arms around his neck.

“I love you so damn much, Maverick,” she said.

“Love you too, babe.” Then they were kissing in a not-fit-for-public make-out session. Izzy averted her eyes. Not because of the show, nah, she was down with a little visual porn, but the depth of feeling and love between the two was more than she could bear.

She hadn’t had much experience with successful couples, and it was clear these two were one of the ones that would make it.

They loved each other.

Not infatuation, or lust, though they had that in spades, but a deep love and connection the world could see. They needed each other to survive.

And it fucked with Izzy’s mind too much for her to keep watching.

After a few minutes of pretending she wasn’t seconds away from a live sex show, she rolled her eyes. “Okay, you two crazy kids, let me get that tattoo dressed and go over the after-care before you start rolling around on my floor naked. Then I’ll be forced to clean up all the vomit that will come from my mouth because, Mav, no one wants to see you naked.”

Stephanie laughed, and it killed their make-out session. Mav didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Nor did he have the muscular bulk of his brothers. Not to say he was a slouch. No, he was definitely as hot as the rest of them, and she’d heard he was scrappy as hell. But it was always fun to kid the kidder.

“Do your thing, Iz, so I can take my woman home and fuck her.” He scratched his chin as though deep in thought. “Though I might not be able to wait that long. Izzy, you mind if we go fuck around the side of your building?”

“Jesus, Mav,” Stephanie said with a shake of her head, but Izzy didn’t miss the flash of interest in her gaze.

“Fine by me as long as I can’t see or hear anything. And as long as you don’t have her back against the wall. I get a little cranky if you mess up my work five minutes after it’s done.” Just as she finished speaking, the sky opened up and rain pelted down.

With a shrug, Mav snapped his fingers. “Oh, darn. Guess that’s out of the question. My woman’s a screamer anyway.” He winked at Stephanie who was now bright pink and trying to hide her face.

Izzy laughed as she dressed the tattoo. Spending the morning with Steph had been more fun than she’d expected. By the time the ink was covered, she’d reviewed the after-care and was ready to send her friends on their horny way. She and Steph hugged, kissed cheeks, and promised to have a girl’s day soon. Well, a girl’s day plus their respective biker shadows.

After they left, Izzy finished cleaning up, then the bell jangled and the prospect watching her popped his head in. It wasn’t someone she’d seen before, a newer guy whose name she was embarrassed to admit she couldn’t recall. “Hey, Izzy, I’m fucking starving. Mind if I run out to grab some food? I’ll be twenty minutes tops.”

Jig wouldn’t like it, but Rip was due any moment so she shouldn’t be alone for more than thirty seconds. “Nah, go ahead. It’s fine.”

“You want something?” what’s-his-name asked.

“No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

He disappeared, and she got back to her cleaning only to have the bell ring out again.

“Hey,” she called over her shoulder, “Welcome to—oh Rip, hey. Right on time.” At least she wouldn’t have to tell Jig she’d been alone in the shop.

He shuffled his way into the shop and straight to her station. “Yeah, I know. Wanted to talk to you about something for a few minutes.”

A wave of discomfort washed over Izzy. That phrase was never a good way to start a conversation. Pretty much always meant some kind of bad news.

God, was he about to fire her?

She’d never had a customer complain about her, she worked whatever hours he requested, and she never caused drama.

Rip chuckled and sat on a rolling stool. “Get that terrified expression off your face, kid. It’s nothing bad.”

“Well, maybe you shoulda started with that, old man,” Izzy said as she plopped on the empty stool. She’d never admit how relieved his reassurances made her.

“I’m moving to Montana in a month,” he said.

Izzy blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” How was that not bad news?

His eyes sparkled. “You heard me, Iz. I’m moving.”

“But, but why? Are you buying a new shop?”

“Nah,” he said. “I’m retiring.”

“You’re fifty-two.”

Rip chuckled. “I’m well aware of my age.” He shrugged. “I’ve got money saved from an old inheritance. I, uh…” His round face turned an adorable shade of red. “I met someone who lives out there, at a convention last year. We’ve kept in touch ever since, and I want to be closer to her.”