Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
What the hell? He’s cut like the Hulk. All that special-ops training sure pays off.
“Couldn’t find an old T-shirt, so I guess it’s skin.” He throws me a sexy wink.
Nice.
I’ve got to give it to him, that’s pretty smooth.
“Well then”—I smile as I go back to painting—“skin works for me.”
“Skin always works for me too,” he says. “Maybe you should paint in your underwear?”
I giggle. “Oh, you’d like that?” I tease.
“I would, actually.”
You are never seeing me naked; I look like a jellyfish compared to you.
“White, eh?” Mason says as he pours some paint into his paint tray.
“Yeah, I am trying to make it all fresh and classic,” I reply.
“I love this old house.”
“Me too. So tell me about your work,” I ask him as I paint.
“I’m a Navy SEAL.”
“Have you always wanted to do that?”
“Pretty much. I loved scuba diving and the ocean when I was young, appreciated discipline, and loved to train hard.”
I can see that.
“Those things kind of went together,” he adds.
My phone beeps a text. It’s from Henley.
What’s happening?
I smirk and take a photo of Mason painting in his shorts, muscles on display. I send it to Henley.
Painting.
I wait for his reply. Nothing comes, so I go back to painting.
“So the guys you live with, are they close friends?”
“Aah . . .” He hesitates. “They are. We are close because we do the same job and understand each other. The housing is supplied through work.”
He hesitated when he said that. I’m reading it as they get on his nerves sometimes.
“Have you always lived around here?”
“From New York originally.”
“Really?”
“You seem surprised,” he replies.
“I guess I am—not many New Yorkers go into the military.”
“You’d be surprised. A lot of us just wanted to get out.”
We keep painting for a while.
“What about you?” he asks. “Did you always want to be a nurse?”
“Um, yeah.” I shrug. “I guess. I like to look after people.”
“Must be a rewarding job.”
“Some days are better than others.”
“It looks good, doesn’t it? Imagine when the entire house is done.” He smiles as he stands back to look at our handiwork.
We chat for another forty minutes while we work. Mason is actually a really cool guy.
Not my type, but a cool guy nonetheless.
“Hello,” sounds a familiar voice from the front door. I glance up to see Henley standing there. “What’s going on here, poser painting?”
Excitement runs through me.
He came home from work!
This must be love.
Mason looks at him deadpan. “I didn’t have an old T-shirt.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Henley mutters dryly as he walks in past him. “I’ve got the day off; do you need some help?”
I say yes at the same time Mason replies no.
“Maybe I should drop my pants and paint naked,” Henley replies casually as he looks around.
I smirk. That dick of his would definitely win any battle. “Ew.” I act disgusted.
Mason chuckles.
“I’ll have you know that I’ve been told before that my cock is perfect,” Henley says nonchalantly as he picks up a paintbrush.
“I didn’t know you kept chickens,” Mason replies as he paints.
“I keep cocks,” Henley replies as he rolls his roller in the tray.
“I prefer to keep pussies,” Mason fires back. “Cocks don’t interest me.”
Touché.
Henley rolls his eyes, and I want to burst out laughing.
This is perfect.
“Hello,” sounds an annoying female voice from the front door. We all look up to see Taryn standing there. “Lookee, lookee, what’s going on here?” She smiles. “Henley, I saw your car drive in, and I was coming over to see if you were all right,” she purrs.
“Nice to see someone cares about me, Taryn.” Henley smiles sweetly over at me.
Fuck off.
Fuck right off.
“What are you guys doing?” Taryn asks in an overdramatic voice.
“Playing Monopoly,” I reply deadpan as I keep painting.
Mason laughs. “Good one, Juliet.”
Henley rolls his eyes. “So good,” he mutters under his breath.
“Can I help?”
I say no at the same time Henley says yes.
“It’s poser painting, Taryn. You better strip off,” Henley says casually as he paints.
“Ha, ha. Oh, Henley, any chance you get to try and look at my body.” Taryn laughs.
Fucker.
I bite the inside of my cheek, and Henley smirks at the wall he’s painting.
“I’ll slip home and get into something more comfortable,” Taryn replies.
“This is a roller-skate-free zone, Taryn.” I smile sweetly. “Don’t want you getting hurt, now.”
She laughs an over-the-top fake laugh, and she thinks I’m joking. I’m not. If she wears her roller skates, I’m 100 percent pushing her down my front steps, and I will not be resuscitating her.
She skips off across the street, and I’m left alone with the two men once again.
One buff and half-dressed, one completely covered up and simply irresistible.
“So where are we going on Saturday night?” Mason asks Henley.
I stop painting and look up. “What?”
“We’re going on a double date. Henley and Taryn and you and I. Didn’t Henley tell you?”