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“Oooh, she used your government name,” Jer teases, making me laugh.
“So here’s what we have,” Zach says, as he holds an iPad up, leaning forward until he’s close enough for me to smell his body wash. My brain short circuits as I inhale deeply. Why does he smell like apple pie and spice? Now I want to lick him, to see if he tastes just as good…
“Sapphire?” Jer says, sounding amused. I blink, looking up to find that both men are smiling knowingly.
“Sorry. Long day,” I lie, looking at the lit-up screen.
Two halves of a butterfly take up the entire screen, and I gasp. The left is the tattered wing. With rips, holes, and little stitches. There’s even a little spot of red, dripping in a way that looks like a rip on the monarch's wing.
The right wing is alive with color. I realize the wing is still damaged and torn, but the colors that bleed from the cracks blend together, looking like a watercolor masterpiece. I bite my lip, as tears fall down my cheeks.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, swallowing hard around the lump that's making my throat burn.
“Fuck, hotcakes, are you okay?” Jer drops to a knee beside me, taking one of my hands between his, rubbing it soothingly. Zach scoots even closer, and I draw in a ragged breath.
“Yeah, sorry. Thad hated tattoos. Said they’re trashy. This is so beautiful. It’s perfect.” I nod, smiling through the tears.
“Well, Thad is a shitty dickhead,” Zach says firmly, resting his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently.
“A poop-stained piece of toilet paper,” Jer adds, making me laugh. I’ve never heard anyone use such a random insult, and it throws me right out of my tears and into a fit of giggles. “What? Not all dickheads are bad. Some feel good,” Jer teases with a wink, making my giggles worse, and I shake my head.
“Not what I meant,” Zach grumbles but smiles.
“Come on, hotcakes, let's get you tattooed,” Jer says when my giggles finally die, and I nod.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
I hold my arms open, facing them forward as I switch from looking at them in the mirror to directly at my wrists.
“Fucking beautiful,” Zach says, and I nod in agreement until I look up to find him staring at my face. I blush bright red and quickly look away.
“Thank you,” I murmur, turning away from the mirror, so I can grab my bag, but I’m stopped. They wrap the tattoos in clear film and give very detailed directions for the next week. I can see why they are so successful. They’re amazing.
“At least let me make you dinner?” I ask, and both men agree easily, with promises to come over tomorrow night. It’s not until I get home that I remember Anton will be out tomorrow.
A loud, repetitive banging wakes me up Saturday morning, and I grumble, rolling out of bed. One look at the clock tells me it’s already ten. I brush my teeth, change my clothes, and head downstairs.
One peek out the window tells me my guess as to what the banging was, is correct. Anton and Isaiah are both shirtless and…fuck, I don’t even know what they’re doing. There’s wood and hammers, but all I can see is toned muscle. Sweaty, thick muscle under tan skin.
I get the staring out of my system before opening the front door and heading out to join the work. I’ve got bottles of water under my arm, and I’m already sweating, but not from the heat.
It’s maybe sixty-five out here today since we’re approaching winter in our small town up in the mountains.
Still, I went with jean shorts and a loose shirt because hard work always makes me sweat. I swallow hard, holding up the waters.
“Good morning,” I say, and both men stop working to greet me. Having their full shirtless attention on me is a bit overwhelming. When I’m close enough to hand them the bottles, I catch their scents. Sweaty, sexy, manly…good heavens.
“Hey there, Saffie.”
“Mornin’ Sapphire.” Isaiah nods.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking at the work area they have set up in my front yard.
“Fixing the porch steps and the missing rail.” Anton nods toward the little cottage.
“Ah. Can I help?” I offer, looking around and trying to figure out what the hell I could even do.
“I brought this,” Anton turns, showing me an electric sander. “You can sand the rest of the porch, so we can stain it all once it’s fixed?” I nod, taking the heavy thing from him and heading to the porch. I plug it in and then stare at it.
