But how? And more importantly, what would he tell Darian?
Lost in thought, Stacy let the jigsaw slip. The blade hit the work table beneath the plywood, jarring his arm. “Pay attention,” Jennifer growled. “You want me to do it?”
“I want you to shut up,” Stacy muttered. The design he’d been carving was ruined—the jigsaw had snapped through a thin piece of the wood, almost breaking it off. It hung on by only a few scant splinters, nothing more. Turning off the jigsaw, Stacy cursed, “Shit. Look what you made me do.”
“Me?” Jennifer asked, incredulous. “I’m just standing here. You messed it up.”
Before Stacy could reply, a strong hand touched the small of his back, and then Darian’s voice rumbled above him. “What’s going on?”
With a guilty start, Stacy replied, “Nothing.”
Jennifer pointed out the broken plywood. “His mind’s a million miles away.”
“A million miles away from you,” Stacy grumbled under his breath.