Which are very, very nice. Especially the one covered in tattoos that I have yet to fully inspect in great detail, though after seeing him on my table, I know that there’s a hummingbird and bear that his sleeves usually cover. His pecs and his abdomen are free of ink but are all just as nice to look at. I haven’t been able to admire any of it close up since the day he was on my massage table. Hard.
Pulling my tank top off, I reveal my emerald and white daisy bandeau top. I strip out of my jean shorts next, exposing the matching bottoms. Wyatt’s arms drop, along with his mouth, as he takes me in from head to toe. His blatant appreciation for what he’s seeing has my cheeks flushing with heat that has nothing to do with the sun overhead.
“Bryn, you better take your boy down to that freezing water before we see something we shouldn’t,” Liam tells me from behind. “He’s gonna pitch a tent.”
“Fuck off,” Wyatt responds without taking his eyes off me. He holds out a hand. “But you should take me. Away. Take me away. Or take me. I’m yours to do with as you please.”
With a giggle, I place my hand in his for the second time in a few minutes and lead him down to the water. He follows behind me, and I have this one moment where I wonder if he looks a bit like a puppy following me around. In a very endearing kind of way.
At the water’s edge, he tugs me back towards him in a move that feels reminiscent of our dancing from the first night, my body pressing flush to his. This time there are no clothes separating us, and feeling his flesh against my fingertips has me sucking in a breath. Bringing my eyes up, his face is soft as he watches me.
“Permission for my hands to be on yourbody once we get in that water?” he asks, eyes bouncing back and forth between mine.
It has me glancing down at his lips, swallowing thickly before I nod. “Permission granted in and out of the water. Permission granted until otherwise revoked for reasons I can’t imagine right now.”
He tilts his head down until his forehead touches mine. “Thanks. I’m not sure I can keep my paws off you for much longer. This bathing suit…”
Trailing off, his lips touch mine, and I sigh into his kiss.
“Not here,” I murmur, easing away.
Turning back to the river, I lead him into the water. It’s not as cold as Liam made it seem. Warmer than the Pacific not far away. It’s crisp, given it’s still mountain water, but the summer sun helps with that as we wade in up to our waists. Across the river is a rock wall where some kids are climbing to a ledge and jumping into the deeper pockets of water.
The river flows gently along, and when I get to the point where I can’t touch, I turn to Wyatt, our hands still locked together. He must realize that I can’t touch any longer, and pulls me to him, releasing my hand to slide his down my sides and around to my ass where he lifts me. I’m already moving with him, my legs locking around his waist, my arms around his neck as he carries me down the river, away from the bustling bank of holiday swimmers.
There are still people milling about in the water downstream, but they’re fewer, and he finds us a spot closer to shore that has an overgrown tree hanging over the water. The water is shallower here, up to his waistline. He dips down so we’re both submerged up to our armpits, and I’m sitting on his thighs. It’s comfortable and warm, the sun shining down on our little semi-hideaway.
I rest my head on my arm, my forehead pressing against the side of his neck. His fingertips trace up and down my spine, and Ican tell he’s doing it to stop his fingers from wandering too far in any other direction. Even though I wouldn’t mind if they did.
From this vantage point, I study the end of a “Family” tattoo sprawled in a fancy script along the inside of his upper arm that’s just out of the water. The flourishes from the word weave into the rest of the sleeve, drawing my eye to the hummingbird with fluttering wings just below the face of a bear at his shoulder. It’s the hummingbird’s tail that makes up part of the ear of the cougar beneath it that I always see peeking out from beneath his shirt.
Lifting my head, I run my finger over a vine that starts over the “M” in family and turns into a branch beneath the hummingbird. “Your sleeve is really beautiful.”
Wyatt lifts his arm farther out of the water, standing taller so I can get a better look at the full length. The cougar below the hummingbird. Silent. Stealthy. The wolf that peers out between trees highlighting either side of his snout. Its eyes have a wisdom I can’t explain. It reminds me of Wyatt, but darker, and it has nothing to do with the shading. Again, I’m reminded of the haunted feeling, and my heart reaches out to it, wanting to help the animal.
Touching Wyatt’s arm, he turns it for me, knowing what I want. The wolf wisps away and transitions into an eagle, wings spread along the inside of his forearm. Soaring high above, free and powerful.
“Boone,” he says, pulling my eyes away from the artwork to dart to his.
He wears a small smile, nods back to the arm, and when I follow his gaze, I gasp when I see what he’s referring to. His brother’s name is written within the details of the bird. Something I hadn’t caught before. Grabbing onto his arm now, I turn it myself, looking at the wolf.
Gage.
The cougar, Beau.
The hummingbird, Mom.
Which means the bear must be his dad, and as I adjust to look at his shoulder better, I find the word written there.
“Oh, Wyatt,” I breathe, then bite down on my lip.
“What’d I tell you about your ‘ohs’ in my presence?” he teases.
I shove his shoulder playfully. “Shut up.” Tracing a tooth on the bear, my breath feels stolen by the art on his arm. “I didn’t realize this was all… them.”
“A family portrait without tattooing my brother’s faces on my arm,” he chuckles. “They’d give me so much hell if I did that.”
“Why these animals?” I ask, a finger tracing along the wolf’s long muzzle. There must be a reason he picked each one for each of them.
