Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Life was truly amazing.
Sean and I spent a lot of time with his girls, splitting weekends with Val and alternating weekdays, based on everyone’s schedules. Hair by Shayla was picking up thanks to word-of-mouth, leaving me to cut back on my hours at Whitecaps.
I was still able to pick up a shift once or twice a week, which kept me happy. I loved that job, and not only because I had a mad crush on the cook.
Working with my friends-turned-family was always part of my dream. And now with Sean, his girls, and my salon, I felt like I had it all.
I was applying my lipstick—the deep ruby color Sean liked so much—when I heard the front door open and close, and then Sean’s heavy booted feet getting closer until he filled the doorway of the bathroom.
“There you are. You better hurry up and get ready,” I told him. “Reservations are in thirty minutes.” I pushed my nail along the edge of my lower lip to sharpen up the line, then I capped the lipstick and looked over at him. “Where you been anyway?”
Sean had his shoulder pressed to the doorframe, leaning into it, as his eyes slowly canvassed the little black dress I had on. “You wore that the night you couldn’t spell for shit,” he murmured. “Didn’t get to tell you then ’cause I didn’t know if I could, but that dress.” His eyes lifted and met mine. “Fuck,” he growled.
My skin tingled. Best compliment yet.
“You like?” I teased.
“Oh, yeah.”
I grinned. “Wouldn’t look half as good without this going with it.” I held up my left hand and showed him the ring.
That got a grin out of Sean to beat all grins, equal parts beautiful and breathtaking.
And holy Lord, was it sexy.
“Shit. Go get dressed before we miss these reservations altogether.” I laughed, guiding him out of the bathroom with me. His arm draped over my shoulders, and I looked up at him as we entered the bedroom. “Where were you? I thought you got off two hours ago?”
“I did,” he answered. “You look at that stupid snap app today?”
“Not recently. I did this morning. Why?”
“Go look at it.”
I tilted my head. “Did you do something on Snapchat?”
No fucking way. He hated that app.
Sean didn’t answer me, and when he still didn’t answer me after I narrowed my eyes and inched closer, I squealed, spinning around and snatching my phone off the trunk he used as a night table.
I ignored his breathy chuckle as I unlocked the screen and clicked on the app. When I pulled up my friends, my mouth dropped open.
Sean had a story.
“No way,” I whispered, smiling now as I made sure my volume was turned up before clicking on Sean’s icon, which didn’t give any hints to what his story was about. I could barely make out the tiny image, even when I raised the screen closer to my face.
I didn’t need volume for Sean’s story after all. It was a still image of his ribs, and a tattoo-gun pressing into his skin. I gasped and looked up.
Sean had pulled his T-shirt off. His chest and arms had bandages on them. The kind of bandages that obviously covered tattoos.
I dropped my phone on the bed and walked over. “Sean,” I said, taking hold of his hand when he reached out for me.
Staying silent, he pulled me in front of him and slowly peeled away one of the bandages, revealing the design underneath that hid the word I could no longer make out, even upon close inspection.
“You got them covered up?” I asked, looking into his face.
He nodded, smiling a little, then kept peeling away bandages and revealing more designs that were beautiful because of the way they looked—roses with soft shadows around them—and because of how well they concealed what had been there before.
Sean would never see those words again.
“Oh, my God, I’m so happy,” I whispered, not even caring about the tears in my eyes ruining my makeup job.
Who the fuck needed reservations anyway? We could just go eat at Frank’s.
The last bandage remained on his rib, and Sean left it there.
“You do that one. That’s yours,” he said.
My breath caught in my throat. Oh, my God.
“You…that’s my tattoo? You got one for me?” I asked.
“Told you I would.” Sean grinned and took in a deep breath, then he pushed his hair out of his face and held it back, keeping his fingers interlocked behind his head. “Fuck, I hope you like it. I like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it if you like it,” I said.
“Go ahead. Take it off.”
“Okay.” I gave him a smile, and with excitement warming my blood, I reached forward and gently peeled away the bandage on Sean’s rib, revealing the word I’d written there all those weeks ago in black marker, but now, that word blended with another, so there were two words mirroring each other, and depending on where you focused determined which word you’d see.