of inked images, leaving not an ounce of natural flesh up to his collarbone and out to his wrists. The man is a walking tattoo. It would take me a very long time to look at each artistic display etched across his body. Maybe that’s why he did it, so girls would look at him for a long time. I’m not one of those girls though, mister. Nope, I’m…is that a naked woman hanging from a pole? Oh my goodness, no, I’m not looking anymore. “I just decided not to go back to Boston. Is that okay with you?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, kind of staring through him, lost in my own thoughts. About his tattoos and tan muscles.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
“I’m fine,” I lament. “It’s just that…they…” I point to the wall, the love wall Cali, Tango and I shared last night.
“They fuck like bunnies, I know,” he laughs. “Lucky shits. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
“Pardon me?” I snap upright.
“I’m sorry, where are my manners? Ma told me never to swear in front of a Southern belle if I was to ever meet one, and here I am in the presence of one, and I’m swearing like a sailor.”
“Wait,” I interrupt him. “First of all, I’m from Texas, but I’m not a Southern belle. Secondly, Cali told me you were in the Navy, so—”
“Ah, you got me. I do swear like a sailor because,” he cups the back of his hand to the side of his mouth. “I was one.” He leaves that statement behind with a wink and a crooked little grin.
“Wow,” I say with a shocked drawl. “So, like, did you live on a boat for a long time?” I know I sound like a ditz, but I’m going with it. This guy needs to be taken down a notch or two.
“The Navy has ships, not boats. You must have us confused with the Coast Guard. And no, I was a medic for the Marines. I hung around the Devil Dogs while in combat and picked up a lot of broken pieces…we’ll just leave it at that.”
A serious answer to my not so serious question. Darn it. Plus, I’m not sure I understand what he means by that, and I’m guessing I might not want to know. “I see,” I say, but I don’t see.
“Anyway, sorry for barging in here. I lost my phone charger and my phone died on me this morning. You haven’t seen it anywhere, have you?” he asks.
I almost forgot he had been the one occupying this bedroom for the two nights prior to last night. The couch was a far better idea for me and I should have just slept there last night. It would have been more peaceful. Better yet, I should just go home and pray that Landon doesn’t come back for me. “Can’t say that I have. Plus, the only outlet I’ve managed to find is unreachable when the wall is shaking.”
Jags places his hands over my arms and scoots me to the side so he can switch spots with me. He ducks down into a push-up position and glances under the bed. I shouldn’t be looking, but for some reason, the only thing I can focus on are the grooves in his forearms. Granted, they’re covered in ink, but my goodness this man is endowed with a lot of muscle. Makes me wonder where else he has muscles like—what am I thinking? Oh my gosh, I just got out of a six-year relationship with a man who I’m pretty sure wanted to kill me for money. My mind must stay focused on anything but men right now. Especially men like Jags.
But those muscles. He’s been holding himself in that position for way longer than it should take to look for a charger so naturally, my gaze drifts to his head, which I now see is angled toward me and not under the bed. With a slick grin lined against his lips, he mutters, “You like my muscles? They’re kind of cool, right? I got them on sale a few weeks ago. I figured they’d give me that beefy look chicks like.”
“That explains the markdown written all over your arm?” I quip.
Get it? The tattoos are a markdown? Come on that was funny. Why aren’t you laughing? You think you’re the only one who can tell a joke? Arrogant fool.
“They look pretty real, don’t they? Go ahead, touch