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"Do you work out like all the time?" she asked.
"Most days I get a workout in."
She was trying not to look, but her gaze slowly came back to me and her toes wiggled. "Did it hurt when you got those tattoos?"
"Some more than others." I shrugged. She was very curious all of a sudden.
"Why did you get them?"
Good question. I pointed to my left bicep. "This one's the SEAL trident, stars for my fallen brothers. And this," I showed her my forearm, "a Mardi Gras mask from my hometown. This one's for my mom. She died when I was eighteen." I flexed as I turned, revealing the flowers on my other arm. "My sister Sylvie's favorite. And here," I shifted to show her my back. "Hurricane Katrina."
She listened quietly, total amazement on her face. I had to admit it was not unpleasant having her eyes on me. "Wow. Lots of life experience. I want to know the whole story behind each one."
"That's confidential and it's late. You should get some sleep."
"I'm all jittery." Her hands trembled as she reached up to push some loose hair back. "Keep hearing those gunshots you said weren't even there." She set her shoulders back andtried to hide her shaking hands, but I'd already seen it. "Let's talk more. I've always wanted a tattoo, but my grandfather was strictly against it."
I took a step closer to her and looked her over head to toe. "I'll tell ya somethin'. You got pristine skin right now, apart from the wounds from the glass that will heal, but I don't see no need to make it prettier with ink, so I'd vote for no tattoo for you if I had a say in it, which I don't."
"You think I have pristine skin?"
I chuckled and went to my bag to get a tube of unscented Vitamin E lotion. I found a green tee for me and slipped it on. Once I was fully dressed, I kneeled beside the bed and took her hand. "I do, and I don't like seeing these marks on it."
Her cheeks reddened and she looked down, but she didn't pull her hand away. "I like your skin too."
That sat nice in my chest. "Thank you. People don't think about it until you're downrange with trench foot or blisters. Healthy skin is preventative care." I placed a dab of the lotion on her wrist and started working it in. The divots weren't too bad. Just small impressions that would fade quickly. No broken skin or bruising. "You ever dated a Black dude before Gavin?" My thumb worked the lotion in small circles. She had such delicate wrists, and I hated that they felt good in my hands, like I was holding something precious and fragile.
She shook her head as she watched my fingers caress her arm. "I hadn't dated much at all because I was taking care of my grandfather and running the bakery. He was sick for years before the cancer finally got him. He put up a good fight." Grief tinged the corners of her voice as it grew softer.
"And what would he have thought of Gavin?"
She looked up at the ceiling and pursed her lips. "I don't know, honestly. We didn't really talk about it. I think he expected that I would marry someone Chinese, but I always wanted to be open about it. I didn't like limiting my future like that. But I grew up in the States and he didn't, so we disagreed on a lot of traditional things. I think he would've been resistant to Gavin at first, but eventually, he would've come around. What about your family? What will they think when they find out I'm Chinese?"
"They won't think anything negative about it. With our background, we've seen a lot of things, and we know good people when we meet 'em no matter what. They'll be shocked Gavin ended up with a girl as pretty as you but not that you're Asian."
She blushed and cast her gaze down again. So shy. "They sound like very nice people."
"We got our pluses and minuses." It wasn't long before her eyes were on my face, her pupils dilated and her mouth soft. Just like the first time I saw her, a vibrant heat oozed in my chest. A yearning, an unmet need. Lust. My dick was hard again, but I'd gotten used to that when I was around her. My physical attraction to her was my problem, not hers.
We were quiet for a moment as I worked the lotion higher up her arm to her elbow. Luckily the glass didn't hit her here. "Who owns this house?" she asked.
"You've got lots of questions all of a sudden." I released her right hand and started on her left. She was still wearing Gavin's cheap ring on her finger. A reminder that she was hisbut also that he'd treated her badly. She deserved so much better.
"I've told you a lot about me, and now you're finally offering up details about you. I want to hear it."
Fair enough. I'd purposefully kept things from her, but now she needed to know. "Alright. Knight Security owns it. It's a safe house. We have several of them throughout the country. It's just a secure place to crash or lay low while you're working a job or if you need to hide someone. It has state-of-the-art doors, cameras, alarms, windows. There's a panic room in the center that's even more protected."
"Interesting. So what if no one needs it? It stays empty?"
"Yeah. We have someone who manages them. Keeps them clean and stocked. Once a year, we do an inventory."
She leaned forward and her mouth dropped open. "Do you know how much rent is in LA? You could make so much money if you rented it out."
"We can't rent this place. Too many weapons stashed here."
Her eyes went wide, and she looked around the room. "I don't see anything."
"Exactly. Well hidden."
