Page 89 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

“You’d do that?”

“I’m bored as hell, but I think the break’s actually good for me. My leg doesn’t hurt so much anymore, and those little tweaks and niggles I’ve been pushing through in the gym are fading away.”

Bella had been swimming at every stop. Dr. Blaylock assured her they hadn’t seen any aggressive species of shark around, and she often lapped whatever rock they were anchored beside. Sometimes she snorkelled. They’d even scuba-dived off Sarita so she could see the bleached coral for herself. Dr. Blaylock had stayed on board the boat, and he said he didn’t mind keeping an eye on things. Cole was pleased that so many of his customers had become friends over the years, and much of his business came from repeats. The next year would be tough. He’d have to disappoint a bunch of people.

Bella stripped off her shorts and T-shirt and flopped face-down on the bed. He loved how unselfconscious she was about her body. Gretchen used to change in the bathroom, even when Cole told her she was beautiful. Which was half true. She’d been gorgeous on the outside; the inside wasn’t so pretty. He saw that now.

As for Bella, she was a conundrum. Stunning but scarred, inside and out. Two of the scars were on her left thigh—one on the back and one on the front—plus therewas the scab from the recent snakebite on her right thigh. Another line tracked down her left forearm, long and thin and marked where she’d once had stitches. He’d never say as much, but he suspected she might be slightly clumsy.

And then there were the bruises. A yellow-green splodge on one arm, another on her side. The faint marks on her neck were all but invisible now, but he knew they were there, and he knew who had caused them. He’d tried apologising, promised to be gentler in the future, but she’d laughed off his concerns and said it was nothing to worry about. But he hadn’t missed the silk scarf she’d worn on the flight over.

More deliberate was the tattoo on her ass. He traced the outline of the heart with a finger.

“When did you get this?”

“A while ago.”

“When I was a kid, I always wanted a tattoo.”

“Why didn’t you get one?”

“I always worried I might regret it later. I mean, what if I’d gotten my ex’s name inked across my chest?”

“Always a risk, but I prefer to exist in the moment. Nobody lives forever.”

“I guess your job is a constant reminder of that?”

“Yes, precisely.” Bella rolled over, her head propped up on one hand. “But I got the tattoo when I was nineteen, before I started my current job. It was…not a dare, exactly. More a folie à deux.”

“Was alcohol involved?” Cole asked, lying down beside her.

“Usually.”

“This folie à deux thing, it happened more than once?”

“One time, we went out for burritos, but the restaurant was closed because of a health violation. So we did the next best thing and flew to Mexico.”

“Mexico, the country?”

“How many other Mexicos are there?”

“I bet you got a good burrito.”

“We didn’t get any burritos. We ended up climbing a volcano in Uruapan, and Brax twisted an ankle on the descent, so we flew back to the US for him to get an X-ray. In hindsight, it would have been better to stay in Mexico because the X-ray cost five thousand bucks, and it was only a sprain.”

Cole was still hung up on the “Brax” part. “You folie à deux’d with a guy?”

“A guy who has the Chinese word for ‘asshole’ tattooed on his right buttock. I lived with him at the time.”

“Was he the guy who hurt you?” Cole blurted. He might not have punched Delroy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to defend his girl.

“No, Brax is a good man. It’s cute that you’re jealous, though.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Bella scooched closer and pressed a kiss to his lips. “It is, but you can stand down. Ten of us shared the house—three girls, seven guys. And I think you’d like Brax. You have something in common—he works in the leisure industry too.”

“In Las Vegas?”

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