Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
TATTOO 2
9
CHRISTIAN
The house is already clean, but Hutch is doing another run-through, looking for clutter we might have missed, even though I could still use his help in the kitchen. The fettuccine is simple, but we’re also searing chicken, roasting asparagus, making a salad, and heating rolls. Earlier, we made tiramisu, which is chilling in the refrigerator.
“You’re going to a lot of effort, aren’t you?” Zipper says, when I enlist him to cut carrots and tomatoes. When I don’t answer, he says, “You know this is a bad idea.”
After washing and drying a cucumber, I set it in front of him along with the vegetable peeler. “Keep your doom and gloom to yourself. You don’t have to be here tonight if you don’t want to.”
He’s quiet after that, and when the bell rings, he starts for the door, but Hutch beats him to it. Zipper looks like he does any day of the week, with a t-shirt and jeans, but the rest of us have nicer shirts on, and Hutch, with a light blue dress shirt, looks like he’s dressed to go to a fancy restaurant rather than eat at home.
I hear him greeting Rose, and her melodious reply, and I can hear her smile before I see her. Finally, she appears, looking even more beautiful than usual. Her silky hair lies in soft waves on her shoulders, falling over the thin straps of a tight black dress that hugs her curves in a very enticing way.
Her lips are a pretty pink, matching the blush on her cheeks. Her eyes are wide with what appears to be nervousness. “I brought wine,” she says, holding up two bottles, one in each hand. “I hope you like wine?”
Hutch hurries to take them from her, looking like he hadn’t noticed them before, and I can understand why. The way Rose looks is very distracting.
“Chardonnay. That’s perfect,” I tell her when Hutch sets the bottles on the kitchen counter.
He offers to show her around, and I watch her follow him down the hall, loving how her legs look in her high-heeled shoes, and how her dress clings to her perfectly-shaped ass.
Though spacious, our house isn’t enormous, so it’s not long before they’re back. If it’d been me taking her around, I might have given her an extended tour of my bedroom—specifically the bed.
“It’s good that your house is close to your shop,” Rose is saying as they reach the kitchen.
“Yeah, we weren’t necessarily planning to live together when we moved to the island, but when we found this place, with room for all of us, we decided it was the easiest thing to do,” Hutch tells her.
“Nice, quiet neighborhood, too,” Rose says.
“Also, the beach is right at the end of the street,” Mace says.
Rose’s pretty eyes widen. “Really? I didn’t realize. What a bonus.”
“Maybe we can walk down there after dinner,” I say, as I split my attention between Rose and the butter I’m measuring out for the alfredo sauce.
“Do you need any help?” she asks, turning those beautiful brown eyes on me.
I’m tempted to tell her yes just to have her close to me here in the kitchen, but it wouldn’t be very nice to make a guest cook, especially when there are four of us men here to do it instead.
“No, thanks. You can relax. How was the coffee shop today?”
“It was good, though I missed delivering to you.”
“We figured we’d wait since we’d be seeing you tonight,” Hutch explains.
Rose wanders over to the couch, trailing her hand along the back of a chair as she goes. “I like your house.”
“Do you?” Mace asks. “We haven’t done much to it.”
“It is a little bare, I guess, especially compared to the walls full of art at your shop.”
“I guess you’re right,” Hutch says thoughtfully, as if he’s never noticed the empty walls here.
“It’s funny that you live and work together,” Rose says, “because it’s like that for my brother and me, too.”
“Is that right?” Hutch says.
Zipper, who’s sitting on a stool at the counter, pipes in. “I don’t recommend it. Some space would be good.”
“We have enough space here to each keep to ourselves,” Hutch says, sounding tired of Zipper’s negativity.
If I could reach Zipper, I’d kick him, because Rose had started looking more at ease here, but he’s made her uncomfortable again. She looks nervous as she sits on the couch, but as I watch her, her face changes, shifting back to her usual bright smile. Does she put it on intentionally? “How did you all meet? In the military?” she asks.
“The army,” Hutch tells her. He’s back in the kitchen with me, helping with the final details.
“Where were you stationed?”
“Iraq.” Zipper’s tone is flat, which isn’t unusual for him, but Rose’s expression tells me that she takes this as a cue that we don’t care to discuss the details of our duty, which is correct. I like her smile, and stories of our experiences in the desert would wipe it off her face for a long time.