Page 16 of Three Reasons

Shaking my head with frustration, I’m about to speak when Eli beats me to it. “Not sure being the most sought-after tattoo artist in the country is a failure.”

Startled by their presence, Margo spins around. She eyes them up and down critically, deciding their financial worth with a single glance before responding to Eli, “Of course,yousay that; you’re cut from the same cloth as her.”

Callan’s snort of derision, or maybe it was laughter, draws Margo’s attention to him. Oh, lord, the poor man. His faded jeans, henley, and boots make him look mighty fine, in anI want to tear his clothes off with my teethkind of way.

My sister, however, eyes him up with more appreciation than I’d like. Especially considering she’s supposed to be happily married.

“You look like you might have some taste. A touch of respectability. Surely, you should see the problem with my sister running a place like this?” The snotty tone makes me want to pull her hair like when we were children.

“Running?” I ask, correcting her, “I own this place.”

Walking around me slowly, he swipes his bottom lip with his thumb. “Yeah.” His husky voice makes me want to squirm. “I see the problem.”

“What damn problem?” I glare at the man as I’m ignored again.

“Finally!” Margo throws her hands up. “Please enlighten Grace, then, because she is clueless about how unattractive this whole inking her body thing is. She doesn’t understand how disgusting and shameful it is for a woman of our pedigree.” If I bite my tongue any harder, I won’t have it anymore.

Callan steps closer, grabs my hand, turning it over to see the daisy tattooed on my wrist. Tracing it with a finger on his opposite hand, he brings it to his lips to kiss. “Shameful,” he murmurs. His fingers move up to the stars on the inside of my bicep. “Sexy.” He lifts my arm and kisses all three stars before turning me around and licking across the black dove on my shoulder. “Sheer perfection.”

I’ve utterly melted for Callan and how he speaks to me. Touching me. Crowding his body into mine from behind, with his harsh breathing, and the feeling of his heart hammering through his chest into my back makes me wish he’d toss me over his shoulder, onto the nearest surface, and have his wicked way with me.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Margo glowers at us, and my libido takes a nosedive.

Sighing, I hate to do it, but I know I must. “Tell me why it’s so damn important, Margo, or leave and don’t ever come back.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “You don’t mean that.” I’m obstinate, so I wait her out in silence. “Dad’s got someone he wants you to meet,” she concedes in a muted whisper, knowing I won’t want anything to do with it.

Surprised, yet not, I demand, “What do you mean meet, and who?” The tension in Callan intensifies as his fingers dig into myhips, where he’s holding me close. Eli rigidly stands close by, too. I didn’t realize I liked the possessive type of man, but these two make it hard to resist.

Blowing out a breath, Margo meets my eyes. “Dad is about to make partner at his firm, but Henry Malcolm’s son would like to meet you before they commit to including Dad.” I’m not sure if Margo’s annoyance is because Henry’s son wants me and not her or if she thinks our father is finally taking things too far.

“So, he what…wants to marry me off to some rich boy I’ve never met?” I laugh, but when she doesn’t, I realize how serious this is.

“I don’t fucking think so,” Eli growls, gripping my hand in his and stepping halfway between us. My heart melts even more from his protective stance, and I can see how restless he’s becoming. The lines in his handsome face are stressed, his brows are drawn together in anger, and he has this tick in his temple I want to kiss.

Secretly sneaking a glance up at Callan, I’m caught in the snare of his intense gaze like a Venus flytrap—trapped until the end. Callan is no less pissed, no less annoyed than Eli over Margo’s sudden appearance and news tonight. Anger rolls turbulently through his expression, and it takes me a few minutes to realize how much he hates the mere suggestion of me being with someone else.

How in the world that’s possible, I’ll never understand. We hardly know each other. Lust is a powerful thing, and it seems to have overtaken each of us. What they believe they’re signing up for is more complex than any man would ordinarily be willing to become involved with. I’m not worth the trouble this will likely cause them, but I can’t deny I enjoy how invested they already are in me.

“Two men, Grace? Seriously, even for you, that’s outrageous.” Margo’s intrusive words piss me off.

“It ismylife,” I retort, barely resisting the urge to pop her in the mouth for the disgusting glare she sends towards us.

“You can’t keep pulling this crap. We get it, you’re a rebel, a wild child. The black sheep of the family, but truly, that’s nothing to be proud of. Everyone is ashamed of you. We don’t even like to acknowledge that you exist most of the time.” That stings horribly. “You need to accept that life is bigger than just you and what you want. You have a responsibility to this family, and it’s time you get over yourself.”

I’m speechless that she…thattheythink so little of me. It’s not as though we’re living in the fourteenth century and marrying me off would be to tie families or land or riches together. This is the twenty-first century, where I can do and be who I want, with who I choose.

Not to sound like a spoiled brat, but… “He can’t make me.” I’m at a loss for words over how to defend myself here.

Margo rolls her eyes at me, and before she makes some remark that will piss me off again, I talk over her. “Look, Margo, I already said no. If Dad wants something from me so badly, he can explain himself, but I’m not marrying out of duty to family. I’m not some fucking puppet for them to string along however they please. I’m a human being with a damn good life, and I have no interest in being used.”

Her mouth drops and forms a perfect ‘O’ shape, and if I had a tennis ball, I bet I’d land it right between her perfectly polished white teeth. I fail to understand why she’s always so shocked about me laying down the truth. My family spent eighteen years listening to me stand up for myself and refusing to listen to any of it. This isn’t new.

Gathering her wits, Margo stomps a foot, making me wonder who the child is, before screaming, “You’re so frustrating, Grace, and you’re going to regret this,” as she storms out of my shop, muttering more nonsense I can no longer hear.

Blowing out a deep breath—one I was apparently holding—I drop my head to my chest and attempt to fight off the embarrassment of this night. I hadn’t wanted either of these men to ever see this side of my family, but now that they have, I’m terrified they will be done with me before we even begin.

Eli

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