Page 14 of And Then Came You

“Avoid letting people in.”

“I told you last night. People don’t want to know me.”

“I want to know you, and I’m asking the question.”

“Lexi, you are unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

“Yes, because I resemble, on many levels, a seventy-eight-year-old man. How many women do you know fit that description?”

Sam pulls out his phone with a chuckle. “What’s your number? I want to stay in touch with you.”

“I’d like that. Give me your Granddad’s number as well.”

“You’re really going to call him?”

“Absolutely. He personally requested it. Unless, you have a problem with it.”

“No problem.”

We exchange numbers as the sun dips low on the horizon. Time to head for the hotel and pack our things, returning once again to our normal lives.

“Back to reality tomorrow. For me, that’s my condo and my work in progress. What’s reality for you?”

“A red-eye flight to Bali tonight.”

“I like your reality better.”

“Sveta is meeting me there.”

“Ooh, fun times basking in a tropical paradise.”

“She’s involved in the photo shoot.”

“I’m sure she’s involved in the extracurricular activities, too.” I motion along his frame, cocking my head and praying he doesn’t kill me for my next question. “Does Sveta have a ton of tattoos and piercings as well?”

“She has a few.” Sam chuckles, cracking his knuckles. His tattooed knuckles. “I take it you’re not a fan of tattoos?”

For a moment, I consider his statement. “I have nothing against them. I don’t have any, but a few of the men I dated had tattoos.”

“Tattoos like I have tattoos?”

Hardly, considering every bit of skin I’ve seen below the neck is covered in ink. “Definitely not. They also lacked any piercings.”

“Don’t like those either, I’m assuming?”

I struggle with how to respond. “It’s not my body. It’s yours to do with as you please. Besides, judging by the scads of women clamoring to drink your sweat, I think there are plenty of women out there who find your bad boy look appealing.”

“You think I’m a bad boy, Lexi?”

“No, I don’t. But that’s the vibe you’re going for. What made you get all the tattoos, anyway?”

He leans back against the bench, a smirk decorating his chiseled features. “Honestly? I got sleeved when I was twenty. Tattoos always fascinated me. Hell, my Granddad has three himself, from his days in the Navy. Tattoos are addictive, but it’s more than that with me. I think deep down, I didn’t want to be the pretty boy. Somehow, the tattoos made me edgier.”

“So youarea bad boy?”

“Define bad boy.”

“A player. Heartbreaker.”

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