Page 161 of Between Hate and Desire

“Hmm okay.” He holds them up and looks at them with deep consideration. “The pink one is obvious since it’s a girl, but this one…” He holds up the other. “This one says I’m a badass.”

“That’s pretty insightful for nail polish,” I mock. “Teal it is.”

Hunter hands it over, and I prop one foot up on the coffee table as I shake the bottle. Once I open it, I lean over as far as I can, struggling to reach my foot. When I can’t, I lean my arm around my belly and try that way.

“Well, shit.” I groan.

“I think there’s an error in your hypothesis,” he quips, clearly holding back laughter. “Belly circumference is bigger than arm’s reach.”

I glare, a smug grin painted on his chiseled face. “Thank you, Einstein. I realize that now.” Doesn’t help that my back was hurting earlier. “I can figure this out,” I say, more to myself than him.

I lean my leg slightly outward, keeping my foot planted on the edge of the table, and stretch my arm out as far as possible. Barely reaching my big toe, I manage to paint half of it. It’s half-assed, but then I realize I can’t reach the next one.

“Ugh.” I surrender, slouching.

Hunter clears his throat, causing me to look at him. His arms cross over his broad chest and he gives me his infamous shit-eating grin.

“What?”

“Here, give me.” He holds out his hand, and I furrow my brows.

“For what?”

“You want your nails painted or not?”

My shoulders fall as I hand it over. Hunter sits down on the coffee table, takes my foot, then places it on his knee. I watch as he meticulously paints my nails, one by one, and even holds up my foot and blows on my toes to dry them faster.

“What do you think?”

“Well, if the construction biz doesn’t work out, you have a plan B,” I tease, smiling at how pretty they turned out. “How are you so good at that anyway?”

“Years of carefully tearing shit down, measuring things, and fine-tuning blueprints. It’s not much different,” he explains. “All meticulous tasks.”

He motions for me to give him my other foot, so I do. Again, he focuses intensely on my nails and does a great job. Hunter blows on them, and once they’re dry, I stretch my legs out and admire his work. Hunter takes his phone out and snaps a picture.

“What’re you doing?”

“Sending a pic of my handiwork to Hayden,” he says with a chuckle. “He’s gonna give me so much shit.”

I snort at the fact that he’s willing to send his brother a picture, knowing he’ll be teased. His phone vibrates. Hunter shakes his head with a smile after reading it.

“What’d he say?”

He gives me a side-glance and pops a brow.

“What? Tell me.”

He inhales a deep breath, then chuckles. “He said I’m whipped.”

“Hey! Did you tell him it wasyouridea!”

“No.”

“Great. Now he probably thinks I’m a blood-sucking villain who makes you paint my toenails and wait on me hand and foot.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t think that.” He shakes his head, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Thank you, Hunter,” I tell him. “You’re a man of many talents.”In and out of the bedroom.

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